More Reviews Late Oct.
hi hi everyone! Another round of reviews coming in. Circuit des Yeux has probably one of the most commanding voices I’ve heard in recent memory. Her record is worthy of your full attension. The War on Drugs was introduced to me a very special time in my life. Their music represents eras of past lives, and I already have a feeling this record is gonna feel the same way. If you like what you’re reading, plz follow me on Twitter @wyldkard_ on this page, and sub to Qobuz. anyho — onto the reviews.
Circuit des Yeux -io Matador Records, October, 22nd, 2021 | Key Tracks: Sculpting the Exodus, Dogma, Argument
Limbo: the prevailing doctor or waiting room-esqe space characterizing the underlying energetic propulsion towards somewhere “else.” Yet, being in these suspensive spaces offers a unique chance to ask: “where did we come from?” and “where the heck are we going?” Haley Fohr’s — performing as Circuit des Yeux — steadfast, unafraid, and sublime bravado ushers a 10-track opus on this precarious idea of suspension. Across the entirety of i>-io, Circuit des Yeux wrote, arranged, produced, and performed with a 24-piece orchestra to bring these firmly fundamental ideas to life with rich, textured, mellifluous detail. Recorded during the depths of 2020 lockdowns, -io embraces its thematic gusto to a perfect T and showcases an artist guiding an audience to places we never thought we’d go and back again. Buckle up — it’s a wild ride.
Circuit des Yeux’s voice is equal parts storytelling and world-building instrument. Enriched with a range of rich baritone touches to warbling falsetto whistle tassels, her voice shares pertinent mystical lyrics for our journey, and seamlessly blends in as a member of the bombastic musical backdrop. The album’s cinematic ambitions are clear from opener “Tonglen | In Vain.” Hushed breaths emulsify into an orchestra’s warm-up whirl. Dissonant strings swell and swell until a brief pause leaves us in a pinch; the sweet release of “Vanishing” and taut operatic rock groove of “Dogma” strap us in as Fohr offers bleak condemnations on the paradox of modern life. “Argument” flexes the record’s true ambition. Split into three movements, Circuit des Yeux weaves muted trumpet blares, 6/8-time rollicking guitar lullabies and demonic bass-enriched vocals pondering, “Is this the end?,” all in a fiery 5-minute specter.
In both lyrics and sonic soundscapes, -io embodies the idea of the perpetual. “It is a place where everything is ending all the time … where mothers have vertigo, gravity is God, and grief hovers just below the atmosphere,” Fohr says. “It is also the place that lent me the ability to openly explore the spiral of fear, sickness, death, and grief.” What can these edges of our comprehension teach us about the moments of life where we’re stretched and our tethers begin to buckle? On -io, we’re called to steep in that space, let go of the paradoxical expectations built into our culture, and connect with a deeper, if not essential, part of our being. This record does that and more, and in brilliant Hi-Res audio, requires your full attention and multiple spins for its richness to realize. © William Card for Qobuz
The War on Drugs I Don’t Live Here Anymore Atlantic Records, October, 29th, 2021 | Key Tracks: I Don’t Live Here Anymore, Change
It’s been almost four full years since The War on Drugs graced us with their meticulously constructed Grammy Award-winning A Deeper Understanding in 2017. The subsequent tour, captured on 2020’s Live Drugs was a victory lap that crystallized this group’s electrifying performance prowess. Yet, it might be an understatement to say a lot has changed since then. An altering global string of events, frontman Adam Granduciel’s newly-minted fatherhood, and an irrevocable shock to our relationship to live music. What’s the journey of digesting change, and when do we amend? It’s these very questions that provoke the resulting dynamism in this band’s latest album I Don’t Live Here Anymore — a cerebral, soul-slicing anthemic rock proclamation. With taut, sculpted hooks, and burly melodies, Granduciel has built an album exploring the ruffled and soothing energy of self-reflection.
With previous releases featuring decadent serpentines of shoegaze guitar echos, and groovy up-tempo long-form jams, Granduciel melded the best of both these worlds into this new record. From the opening track, “Living Proof,” folksy strumming and staccato piano jabs glide above Granduciel, who recounts the strife in realizing the paradoxical swirling of an altered relationship: “I know the path/ I know it’s changing/ I know the pain.” “I Don’t Wanna Wait” grapples with predicting life’s changing tides. A metronome-like drum machine marches underneath fluid phase-y guitar fuzz with Granduciel’s voice, drenched and reminiscent of a shotty phone connection calling out, “I don’t wanna wait/ When I’m running to you” before continuing: “Show a little faith/ When I’m running to you.” The album finds a triumphant peak in the title track “I Don’t Live Here Anymore” where propellent, stadium-sized arpeggios ring out over a rock-solid drum groove. Granduciel, backed by the enchanting harmonies of folk duo Lucius, proclaims his unrelenting desire to make things right notwithstanding everything that’s displaced (“I’m gonna walk through every doorway/ I can’t stop/ I need some time, I need control/ I wanna find out everything I need to know”).
Built equally for the headphones and for the arenas, I Don’t Live Here Anymore stirs a universal truism and does so in kick-ass rock stylings: wrestling with the shifting tides of life is a constant, and the effort we make in spite of change makes all the difference. With sturdy lyrical themes and righteous melodic euphoria, The War on Drugs have crafted an album for taking the first step forward, which, while complex, is undoubtedly worthwhile. © William Card for Qobuz
