Alvvays by Alvvays
A thick humid summer’s day interspersed with some trippy naps, apparently.
Alvvays got their start through the college radio scene and describe themselves as jangle pop, but definitely with some Celtic influences as well. Hailing from the maelstrom of cultural crossroads that is Toronto, Ontario, the plucky band with an almost niche sound seems rare in today’s musical day and age — and the abrupt statement opening this paragraph suddenly makes a bit more sense. Their origins and explanations and prior musical persuasions don’t really matter, so don’t try and make sense of it — just listen. And listen I did.
Alvvays’ self-titled EP has its own vibe going in a simplistically capturing way. The tracks all seem to coalesce and meld in a way I can only compare to multicoloured crayons melting on a canvas. Some colours and tracks stand out a little in places here and there, but overall it all blends together in a way that neither completely separates the individual pieces nor allows them to blatantly stick out. The vocals echo heavily and reverberate noticeably in a fashion that toes the line between pleasantly ethereal and jarringly overdone, but still somehow remains minimalistic and even evangelical — listen for the drones of Ones Who Love You to help grasp the adjective-heavy nonsense I’ve just realized I’m spewing. The guitars effortlessly swing in and out of songs, lending their voices without imposing or interrupting the gradually crafted development. Even the 80s-resplendent synths and lo-fi production lend themselves to the lazy, hazy tones of the album that are still incredibly danceable at times or delicately beautiful at others (the dichotomy between Dives and Adult Diversion are good examples of each).
I’m almost hesitant to look up the lyrics of the EP — the tone of the vocals are airy and easy, but the words you can actually make out seem morbidly dark and, to be honest, I don’t want to spoil the thick warm-tinted illusion. The tracks connectively feel like a drawn-out ballad, a swan song dedicated to an unknown scorned lover — the heavily marriage-themed overtones help to reinforce this suspicion. In the end, Alvvays sounds like it would fit in place in some cerebral super-spy romantic tragedy flick, à la James Bond meets Drive with a dash of Big Lebowski dream-sequences. Even more straight-forward indie rock tracks like Atop A Cake, while feeling out of place between trippier tunes, sweats out that warm and fuzzy haze that happily envelopes the whole album.
Verdict: Truth be told, I hated the first single I heard from this album until several listens (and weeks) later. It still swings me the wrong way when I’m not in the right mood, but if you are in the state of mind, then Alvvays works wonders.
