The Saturday Sound — Week 5

From Indian Lakes — Absent Sounds

Gavin Dransfield
The Herald
3 min readOct 6, 2019

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By Gavin Dransfield

Courtesy of Pixabay

The very first sound you hear when you turn on Absent Sounds is that of a piano’s cover being opened, a dull wooden knock resonating against the walls of a spacious room. Two chords are played, the second of which rings out gently and continuously, morphing gradually from a sustained piano to a rich, foggy drone. A distant, whispering guitar fades in. A quiet kick drum begins to pulse with a seemingly disjointed rhythm. For a moment, it seems like this is all the song is going to be; a hushed, static atmosphere, accompanied by faint traces of instrumentation. It’s the quietest moment to be found on the whole album.

Then, before you can even brace yourself, a pounding beat swells its way into the mix, and a deceptively smooth voice begins to sing:

“Come in this light / You only need to feel loved / But you let the dark in / When you open up the door.”

That voice belongs to Joey Vannucchi, the founder and curator of the project known as From Indian Lakes. And this song, “Come in This Light,” lays the framework for an album that is just as nuanced, atmospheric, and gorgeous as its gentle introduction.

Anyone who has been around me long enough has surely heard me talk about From Indian Lakes. On top of being one of my favorite bands, they’re criminally unknown, with a sound that changes between releases, but constantly remains beautiful and wholly unique. Absent Sounds, their third full-length release, is no exception. The middle ground between their emo-infused Able Bodies and their chilling Everything Feels Better Now, Absent Sounds is the band’s most well-known and easily approachable work, with songs that are immediately pleasant on the ears, yet piercing to the heart nonetheless.

Take the next track, “Label This Love,” for example. The song begins much more aggressively, with fast and exhilarating drums which are completely unaccompanied until a chorus of guitars fades in, ascending into a crash of climactic sound. A few minor chords are played before Vannucchi’s voice then replaces the guitars, singing over the stark drums with a haunting timbre:

“Label this love / Put it in a jar and deliver / Cradle my heart / Get the beating out and let it sleep.”

The whole album, much like this song in particular, ebbs and flows, seamlessly shifting between moments of loud passion and moments of whispered heartbreak. There are upbeat songs such as “Breathe, Desperately” and “Am I Alive” intermingled with hushed, almost eerie tunes such as “Awful Things” and “Runner.” And there’s a breathtaking air of aggression permeating “Ghost” and “Fog.”

Luckily, Vannucchi’s voice rings with relentless and sincere emotion across every differing volume. At the end of “Awful Things,” the instruments drop out of the mix without warning, leaving his voice bare and nearly inaudible, groaning the final line of the song with a strain that almost sounds painful. The same thing happens at the end of “Label This Love,” but instead of whispering, his voice is left yelling near the top of its range with what sounds like a desperate yearning for comfort. Both instances are a gut-punch in their own right, proving Vannucchi’s mastery of diverse expression. And his voice just so happens to be quite beautiful as well.

There’s something for everybody on Absent Sounds. It’s likely that it’s different from anything else you’ve heard, but it’s even more likely that you’ll thoroughly enjoy it and find yourself relating to its themes of fear, loneliness, and the search for and misunderstanding of love. These are common emotions, but From Indian Lakes confronts them with an uncommon fervor, as well as a series of captivating nuances: the shifting time signatures of “Breathe, Desperately,” the distorted, ambient guitars that open and close “Sleeping Limbs,” the reversed synth notes of “Search For More,” the electrifying guitar solo at the end of “Fog.”

The list goes on and on. Whether you’re listening intently or just casually, these elements won’t pass under your radar; in tandem with Vannucchi’s incredible singing, they form the heart and soul of a gorgeous, moving, and awe-inspiring album perfect for the gloomy autumn days that are starting to move in.

Stream the album:

Spotify

Apple Music

Google Play

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Gavin Dransfield
The Herald

A junior and liberal arts major at Southern Virginia University. Curator of The Saturday Sound.