While she’s stripped back the distortion over the years as Waxahatchee, Katie Crutchfield has brought depth through the amount of herself she’s been pouring into records as of late. Though it’s not the most complex or infectious record in her discography, Crutchfield takes a dive into dense arrangements and harmony here that lets the more personal side of her work shine. There’s a brooding fire as the album warms up on “3 Sisters” with a guitar shaking throughout like a sunrise, and the vocals and instrumentation expand as Crutchfield finds more power in her words. The natural flow between Crutchfield and MJ Lenderman on “Right Back to It” makes for a soothing duet, and one that cuts to the core in its reflections on how a good-fitting love never gets too bent out of shape. “Bored” has a fun, low-key growl to it, wailing out in the frustration of living through moments that feel like purgatory. There’s a resignation to the words and honest harmonies of “Crimes of the Heart,” with Crutchfield seeming like a voyeur on the life of someone who’s passed her by, and just encouraging them to continue destroying.
There’s a revelling in the downturn of life on Andy Penkow’s “Bottom Shelf,” mixing a cutting loose anthem with a lot of grim realities in the background details. While the track can sound like a celebratory take on your decompression time, there’s equal parts depressing lyricism to how Penkow describes the chronic nature of all his drinking trips. By the same token, the song celebrates how easily a cheap liquor can massage out the troubles of a hard day and come as a simple comfort, but also serve as a reminder of your place on the ladder while you’re already down. Intentional or not, there’s a power to that duality that lets Penkow’s writing soar as a bleak but soothing song.
Marie Ringheim made such a splash on her last few releases that she’s created a wide-open space to go all out and crazy on her pop productions now. Bursting with some of the most eccentric, vibrant and exhilarating layering in pop right now, with the intense and heavy emotional backing to make it stick, Girl in Red is confident and poised on this newest album. There’s a fun mix of angular and rhythmic drives on “DOING IT AGAIN BABY” that turns the whole track into a mountainous sonic explosion, constantly changing its colours and shape, almost like an “Everything Everywhere All at Once” of sounds. Despite the melancholy of “Too Much,” there’s an off-kilter joy in its sporadic bursts of hyperactivity and kinetic production, showing Ringheim’s true secret edge is that constant unpredictability and need to keep her music like a blender. “You Need Me Now?” takes a straighter pop route in terms of writing, letting Ringheim’s detailing and overall acoustics become the star, and allowing the quick feature from Sabrina Carpenter to be more playful, and drop with an insane deluge of hooks to dance with Ringheim’s own vocals. The looming roars on “New Love” keep a darker menace alive on the track, and despite the deep sense of romanticism, the feeling of self-doubt and hunger is inescapable.
From that kick off, “Lock & Key” bounces in with an upbeat joy and swagger, sent to a burning high with its massive brass chorus. Built around the renewed love with a partner after time away on the road, the track has a wonderful meta quality to it. The grooves provide a steady churn on the song, giving Jeff Rogers all the room he needs to belt out lines and really build momentum to make each chorus pop. This hits a vicious tempo on the sparse break, where Rogers names off perfect pair after pair, till the guitars and band are practically melting with tension. While it really peaks in the solos that come off this moment, there’s a great controlled chaos in the final moments of the track, where the band is taking a more free-flowing approach and throws enough hooks to polish off the finale with their finest flare on the whole track.
Not every band came out the other side of the pandemic unscathed, in fact, Chastity Belt seem to have taken it to heart, and need to work through some things. While this makes their latest record a rather heavy and sometimes slow experience, it feels like taking therapy with good friends. There’s a cold glow to “Hollow” that aches with the pain of knowing there’s something to reach out to, but never being able to truly grasp it and bathe in its joy. A general malaise and grunge-laden weight takes hold on “Chemtrails,” as the band create a kind of sonic parallel to the intense loathing and dissociation in its story, finding something in the instrumentation to take over where words fail. There’s at least a kind of bliss to be found on “I-90 Bridge,” as our narrator takes us on a trip through a whirlwind fling, but one that still isn’t bound to last very long. An uplifting swing eases the mood on “Laugh,” as the focus turns to trying to move forward, and resting your sense of brutal existential and emotional dread to the thought that accepting life’s negativity is the only way we can find our way to the positives.
