Sorry: nowhere but here is the album review

where sing SorryAsha Lorenz and Louis O’Brien used to stand starkly alone on the band’s second album, North London, anywhere but hereoften hitting a wave of bubblegum backing vocals, framing bitter musings and unsettling hooks in the shape of a dream oh and ghostly aaaas. These unsung accompaniments, lifted straight out of the classic pop songwriting toolbox, may have once sounded too traditional for a band like Sorry. Their great songs were known for their screams, gulps, and electronic gargling. but on anywhere but hereThey incorporate these nods toward pop history into their music with reverent fidelity, without losing their ability to surprise.

With her signature tongue in cheek, Lorenz said in 2021 an interview that the band was leaning toward “more songs, ’70s arrangements”, and elsewhere they referred to the influence of songwriters such as Carly Simon And the Randy Newman. anywhere but here– which was produced by Lorenz and O’Brien along with producer/engineer Ali Chant of Bristol and portishedAdrian Oatley – He might be sitting next to a punk pop Mika Levy‘s Mikachu and shapesor Alex JRomance is out of the ordinary, from “You’re so absurd.” But she manages to weave classic techniques into the band’s grotesque world with a sense of humor that never slips into far-fetched irony. The results of some of Sorry’s most accomplished songs to date.

They unfortunately played for a long time with self-awareness Musical clichesbut on anywhere but here, Their dough is injected with true pity. “Scream in the Rain” is a dystopian duet in which O’Bryen and Lorenz sound really weak, their voices gently flashing over shabby guitars and a grim piano finale. Lorenz, in particular, physicalizes her performance: There’s a long, rough breath she takes after she imagines someone else putting an arm around her ex in “Key to the City”; The change between haunted whispers and the explosive tones halting on the “willow tree”; The way, in “Again”, her voice fades as she sings, “The world shone like a chandelier / Lost forever.” These deep details tell a story, even when she shows a disgruntled tone – as when she cries over “Key to the City,” “I don’t care!”

Likewise, the magic of Sorry’s devices lies in the smallest, most rigorous detail. They always created a great deal of space in their productions, allowing the most contrasting and persuasive elements to take the lead. Baltimore’s stand-up song begins eerily, with a few piano solo punches, a creepy guitar pickup, and a bass wobble. Like an intervening “step,” it oscillates back and forth between the verses and the quieter choruses arriving at a noisy and frantic conclusion.

There is not enough time to rest in a sorry song; It can be hard to predict what comes next. The album’s weakest snippets are those that use familiar formats such as the twisting beats and city life notes of “there are too many people who want to be loved”. But at its best, lamentable tunes for sloppy couples and insightful earnestness with unsettling moments that shake you awake. Take the opera’s flourishing adding drama to the pessimistic “I miss an asshole,” or the fact that “closer” is less about physical or emotional intimacy than the feeling of slowly creeping yard (“closer to ether, closer to worms,” Lorenz and O’Brien sing gently in harmony silent). The stark way they marry these unexpected elements, and their disarming lyric poetry, is often funny — but it’s never a joke. where 925 He was sensationally imaginative, but often kept the listener on guard, anywhere but here He uses tactile storytelling and intimate vocals to bring us closer.

All products featured on Pitchfork are independently selected by our editors. However, when you buy something through our retail links, we may earn an affiliate commission.

Leave a Comment