The Sound of Rescue‘s Aperture is a smart fusion of post-rock and drone that strips some of the traditional slow-fast, quiet-loud post-rock tropes and instead substitutes long, thick synths to create their own songwriting logic. It takes 1 minute and 33 seconds before a recognizable guitar comes in on opening cut “Slowly, Then All At Once,” relying on synths and loping yet insistent bass to push the album into existence. The instrumental outfit does retain the song length that many outfits are enamored with; no song runs shorter than 5:41, all but two top 7 minutes, and the closer is 11 and a half.
Yet the album never drags–it’s a testament to their refined palette (this is their sixth major outing in five years) and their clear focus. There is still variation: “Footfalls Echo” almost gets up to post-metal range, as does “Falls the Shadow” before it turns out a nearly-4-minute drone coda. The title track echoes Sigur Ros’ grainy Super 8/ethereal vibe, but never dismisses it in the 6:43 of the tune. It’s a rare band that can get the hammering “Footfalls Echo” and the light-washed “Aperture” next to each other, but The Sound of Rescue is that group. Post-rock fans, pay attention.
Beach Moon / Peach Moon‘s Kite Without a String is dreamy early ’00s emo that could have been on Deep Elm or Vagrant records, paired with an artsy sensibility that wants to tug some post-rock, atypical structure sensibility into it (“Firefly Stars”). My first thought was the work of another band with an unruly name (Empire! Empire! I Was A Lonely Estate), but instead of making me want to go listen to that, BM/PM kept me fully engaged in their tunes. The vocals are wide-eyed and child-like, pointing toward the sort of intimate/widescreen tension that is going on in these tunes. Opener “Philosophy at 23/at 24” plays with this particularly well, opening with spacious reverb and an intriguing drumbeat before stripping the tune down to its bare essentials for the coda. Elsewhere the drums play a significant role in directing the sound: the meticulous rhythm that opens the “The Fog” keeps it from being a Lullatone atmosphere piece, while follow-on “Firefly Stars” balances out the low-slung guitars with perky rim-clicks. It’s unusual for the percussion to be such a big part of the sound in a dreamy work, but the pieces all work together here beautifully to keep the tunes from floating off into the ether. Instead, it’s a well-rounded, beautiful release that sticks with me.
Living Decent‘s self-titled EP also could have been on Vagrant Records in the early ’00s, but from the more punk rock side. Vic Alvarez’s latest punk rock outfit offers a contemplative (but not navel-gazing) gaze in their tunes, drawing on some shoegaze/”wall of sound” vibes (“Close Enough to Keep You Close”), pop-punk energy (“Bad Collections,” “Borrowed Bike”), and acoustic-pop sweetness (“Antique Store”) to fill in. The results are songs that feel accomplished–Alvarez has a long history of songwriting, and it feels like all those songs and all those bands have resulted in a “know thyself” sort of maturity evident here. Jimmy Eat World’s stable-yet-productive run in the mid-’00s with Futures and Chase This Light is the best analogue I can think of: both band’s songs are well-crafted, memorable, not ostentatious, and thoroughly focusing on the best characteristics of the band. In Living Decent’s case, that’s Vic Alvarez’s voice, the specific moods the trio pulls out of guitar tone and drum style, and the lyrics. The spartan yet evocative words point toward a concern with “listening,” as three of the five songs mention it–the older we get, the more important it seems to become to just listen and appreciate. If you’re interested in thoughtful punk rock with a lot of maturity in it, please go listen to Living Decent.
The Black Watch has released somewhere between 13-17 albums and somehow hadn’t come to my attention until the last couple of years. Highs and Lows is a rock’n’roll album the impressive likes of which they hardly make anymore, combining big guitars with psychedelic touches, baritone vocals that don’t veer into monotone post-punk territory (thank you, thank you, thank you), melodies that fit with the rock attack, and a backing band that just nails it. Extra bonus: the band has the ability to peel it all back for an acoustic ballad that doesn’t get maudlin (“Eleanor’s Not Hiding”). Tunes like “Pershing/Harvard Square,” “Love’s Fever Dreams” and “There’s No Fucking Way” get stuck in my head, with “Love’s Fever Dreams” in particular standing out for high praise. I could break down the tunes for you, but in an album like this that’s totally not the point. If you’re into rock’n’roll, you’ve probably already heard of The Black Watch and you’re wondering why I’m late to the show. If on the off chance you’re new here like me, you should jump on this one for real.