You’d be forgiven for thinking Choir Vandals fell off the face of the earth shortly after releasing their second EP ‘At Night’ in late 2014. The St. Louis, Missouri-based quartet emerged from hibernation last November, teaming up with Alcoa to release a split EP. They made the most of that two-year gap, refining their sound at their leisure and spending time figuring themselves out. Their side of the split featured ‘Lucifer Yellow’ (which made the cut for what would become ‘Dark Glow’) and ‘The Center’ (which didn’t). Their debut album is Choir Vandals’ first real chance to make an impression after four years of build up, so how do they fare?
The spirited drums and muscular guitar riff of ‘A Place to Hide’ make for an ideal opening statement. The lyrics clash with the major-key melodies, however, hinting at the band’s exploration of ennui and struggling with myriad emotions. “Sneaking out for liquid healing / Bored but recklessly appealing / Everyone’s gone mad waiting around”, vocalist Austin McCutchen declares. Listeners seeking miserablism should direct their ears elsewhere, though.
As its title suggests, ‘Dark Glow’ explores the human condition in all its peaks and troughs: ‘Holiday Girls’ recounts formative experiences in “basements filled with wonder” and struggling to establish your sense of self. ‘Head in the Oven’, meanwhile, is a breakup song given an introspective twist, lurching between different tempi as McCutchen explores the effects that mental ill-health can have on a relationship (“Honest, I had good intentions; got caught up and forgot to listen”).
The opening tracks highlight the band’s chemistry, with a particular focus on the rhythm section. Bassist Josh Cameron and drummer Wil McCarthy assert themselves on ‘Keep It Under’ & ‘The Gardener’, the latter of which doffs its cap to mid-’90s Britpop and provides one of the album highlights in the process.
Having made their presence felt, Cameron, McCarthy and second guitarist Micah Kelleher allow McCutchen his moment in the spotlight with a gut-wrenching plea to his ‘Mother’, now home alone “battling demons” as her son has moved away: “I know your nest feels abandoned … I know I heard you cry in the mirror / Don’t give in to your fears.”
It’s a stark and unsettling song that bleeds into the plodding sturm und drang of ‘Sequencer’ in a way that is undeniably disorienting; the stylistic shift should not work, yet somehow, it does. ‘White Gloves’ is a much more conventional affair, its breezy indie rock helping the album recoup some lost steam before starting the home stretch, with ‘Lucifer Yellow’ and ‘Hard to Hold’ playing to the band’s strengths. That pair of songs does a fine job of summing up McCutchen’s lyrical conceits on ‘Dark Glow’; the latter is about how romantic relationships can toy with a person’s feelings, and the former deals with the fear of being alone in an uncaring world.
This is an intensely personal set of songs that are simultaneously universal and deeply relatable. Come for the hooks, stay for the lyrics and leave with the sensation that Choir Vandals have put your emotions through the ringer. Hopefully they won’t be disappearing again any time soon.
GARETH O’MALLEY