The Frights – Everything Seems Like Yesterday
(Epitaph Records)
Reviewed by Tim Gruar.
With Covid-19 the best thing, if there is anything to be positive about, has been the opportunity to stop and refresh the batteries and get stuck into a few albums that have been sitting around crying out to be listened to.
One of these comes with an ominous title to boot. ‘Everything Seems Like Yesterday’ is the handiwork of home studio vocalist and guitarist Mikey Carnevale, frontman for ‘The Frights’. Most of the material was written back in the autumn of 2018. Carnevale was originally going to release everything as a solo album, but then he changed his mind after playing the new material during shows in San Diego and L.A. The reception was overwhelmingly positive and the decision was made to make this a band album instead, taking an acoustic turn in the process. To produce the album, Carnevale brought on-board bassist, Richard Dotson, to produce and the two headed off to record at Carnevale’s nanna’s cabin in the scenic backblocks of Idyllwild, California. That setting certainly gives you a feeling of angst and cabin fever and frustration – ironically suited to our current situation.
The duo was quick to lay down the tracks, in sequence over the course of just one week, and included a wide array of ambient sounds and the use of real-life objects around the cabin as instruments; glasses with water in them, leaves, pots and pans, a ringing phone etc. Again, it really feels like this was made under lock-down conditions, even though the USA is currently floundering about on that very issue at present.
Let’s be clear. This album isn’t the usual surf punk we’re used to from The Frights. Sadly, that signature aggro indie twang is missing in action this time around. But on the other hand, how much of the same good thing do we want?
Cast your mind back to the band’s second album, ‘You Are Going to Hate This’ – full of intense garage rock, mixed with vintage surf hooks. That was the epitome of mosh pit chaos. This record is the complete opposite. It starts with a song called ‘24’, about being a ‘painfully oblivious’ 20-year-old boy. It’s edgy and uncomfortable, soft, melodic. A piece about lost love, with nostalgic overtones that sets up journey of this album.
Then we move to ‘Kicking Cans’ and ‘Simple and Strange’, which are also about looking back on poor decisions made. There’s a heavy dose of regret in this mix. But by the time we get to ‘Echo In the Corner Of the Room’, the story’s getting a bit tedious – same-old, same-old. The chords, notes and lyrics just seem to repeat over and again – “I was kicking cans, I made a thousand different plans, and nothing’s changed/I still retain” (Kicking Cans)
Lyrics are the same as other Frights records, yet without a full band effort they just seem a bit dull. ‘Love Grows Cold’ is a good example: “Love grows cold and if it does that’s fine / The cold brings me closer to you.” Sure, that’s a great line and shows understanding of the transition between lovers to friends. Underneath, that’s it, the rest of the song has nothing new to say.
Initially, I was open to an acoustic album. A chance to get inside the writer’s mind. However it wasn’t long before my interest started to wane. The problem with entirely acoustic efforts is the challenge of providing enough variety to keep it all going, and I just didn’t think that was going to happen. All ten songs essentially sound too similar. Sure, you get a harmonica every now and then, but that’s it.
This is not a bad record. Vocals are nice enough, melodies ok. Not really memorable though. Stacked up against the Frights’ back catalogue, it’s definitely lacking. In the end, this is a onetime listen, not really worth a return visit.
Although this was a good stab at a stripped back, emotional piece of work, it just fails to get up my interest. Nice try, come back next year.
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