Whether shoegaze's enduring cross-generational appeal and TikTok meme-ability had anything to do with Drop Nineteens reactivating and dropping their first record in 30 years, one can only speculate. But it's been fascinating to see the Boston shoegazer's 1992 debut Delaware steadily rise in estimation and notoriety these last few years, seemingly plucked from obscurity by a cohort of younger fans eager to sink their teeth into under-appreciated indie rock.
Delaware is no doubt a great record, and one that managed to propel the band to MTV video plays and shows with Radiohead and PJ Harvey back in the early '90s. But they burned fast and bright, their lasting influence a mere wisp compared to canon touchstones like My Bloody Valentine and Slowdive. Following the release of 1993's poorly received alt-rock pivot National Coma — crucially recorded without founding guitarist and co-vocalist Paula Kelley — the group disbanded.
Acknowledging Delaware's long shadow in their short discography, the band — now reunited with Kelley and founding guitarist Motohiro Yasue — has been marketing Hard Light as the proper follow-up to that acclaimed debut. But in choosing to silo only the most palatable parts of that searching and unwieldy album, Drop Nineteens closes off multiple avenues that could've led to a more vibrant second act. Notably, the reformed band seems intent on chasing the power-pop sugar-rush of their 1992 hit "Winona." As such, most of Hard Light's highs feel like cozy, defanged takes on that song's acidic fizz.
Lead single "Scapa Flow" is a perfect encapsulation of Hard Light's strengths: gauzy, pillowy guitars riding a wistful two-chord progression that feels like "1979" as performed by mid-'90s Yo La Tengo instead of the Pumpkins. Singer-guitarist Greg Ackell's vocals are anachronistically boyish and enthusiastic, bolstered by Kelley's tight harmonies. The song soars in no small part due to bassist Steve Zimmerman's graceful, gliding bass lines; his deeply expressive low-end reveals itself to be the album's secret weapon, giving many of the album's best songs their uncanny drift. A tasteful bass arpeggio churning in lockstep with Pete Koeplin's insistent high-hats drives the melancholy thrust of "Gal," whereas the blissful swirl of "Another One Another" culminates in a gorgeous four-string refrain that would normally be relegated to chiming guitars.
Unfortunately, the album's detours into experimentation are somewhat less successful. The album's self-titled opener recalls recent Slowdive compositions, casting crystalline interlocking guitars and downcast vocals against a gently burbling sonic backdrop. "Time is of the essence," intone Ackell and Kelley, no doubt nodding to the band's decades of lost time. While lovely, it feels like scene setting for what's to come rather than a fully realized song. Elsewhere, "The Price Was High" blares out the gate with a fuzzy, Bowie-by-way-of-the-Cure goth strut, but Kelley's solo vocals don't quite manage to carry the song, hampered by some odd mixing choices that leave them scooped and thin.
And so Hard Light's back half ends up feeling too slight and polite compared to its propulsive side A. "Rose with Smoke" is an inessential mid-album instrumental that nearly kills all momentum, while a pair of acoustic indie-pop songs in "Lookout" and "Policeman Getting Lost," impede any possibility of recapturing the record's magnetic initial run, despite being perfectly pleasant.
Closer "T" thankfully ends the record on a strong note, synthesizing everything that works best about the 2023 incarnation of Drop Nineteens. At seven minutes, it's the longest song on the record by some measure, luxuriating in beautifully sung verses by Ackell and Kelley before dissolving in a sea of effervescent pastel guitar noise buoyed by Zimmerman's incredible bass lope. Here, the band triumphs by chasing beautiful excess; And though it makes a compelling enough case for Drop Nineteens' return, nothing on Hard Light sears and smoulders the same way Delaware's coarser passages did.
No nine-minute instrumental distortion odysseys punctuated by spoken-word digressions in the vein of "Kick the Tragedy," no unexpected blood-curdling screams like those that cleaved the fuzz-doom of "Reberrymemberer" in half. In shearing off that thorniness, Drop Nineteens have returned as a highly competent, often lovely, and perhaps less interesting version of themselves.
(Wharf Cat Records)Delaware is no doubt a great record, and one that managed to propel the band to MTV video plays and shows with Radiohead and PJ Harvey back in the early '90s. But they burned fast and bright, their lasting influence a mere wisp compared to canon touchstones like My Bloody Valentine and Slowdive. Following the release of 1993's poorly received alt-rock pivot National Coma — crucially recorded without founding guitarist and co-vocalist Paula Kelley — the group disbanded.
Acknowledging Delaware's long shadow in their short discography, the band — now reunited with Kelley and founding guitarist Motohiro Yasue — has been marketing Hard Light as the proper follow-up to that acclaimed debut. But in choosing to silo only the most palatable parts of that searching and unwieldy album, Drop Nineteens closes off multiple avenues that could've led to a more vibrant second act. Notably, the reformed band seems intent on chasing the power-pop sugar-rush of their 1992 hit "Winona." As such, most of Hard Light's highs feel like cozy, defanged takes on that song's acidic fizz.
Lead single "Scapa Flow" is a perfect encapsulation of Hard Light's strengths: gauzy, pillowy guitars riding a wistful two-chord progression that feels like "1979" as performed by mid-'90s Yo La Tengo instead of the Pumpkins. Singer-guitarist Greg Ackell's vocals are anachronistically boyish and enthusiastic, bolstered by Kelley's tight harmonies. The song soars in no small part due to bassist Steve Zimmerman's graceful, gliding bass lines; his deeply expressive low-end reveals itself to be the album's secret weapon, giving many of the album's best songs their uncanny drift. A tasteful bass arpeggio churning in lockstep with Pete Koeplin's insistent high-hats drives the melancholy thrust of "Gal," whereas the blissful swirl of "Another One Another" culminates in a gorgeous four-string refrain that would normally be relegated to chiming guitars.
Unfortunately, the album's detours into experimentation are somewhat less successful. The album's self-titled opener recalls recent Slowdive compositions, casting crystalline interlocking guitars and downcast vocals against a gently burbling sonic backdrop. "Time is of the essence," intone Ackell and Kelley, no doubt nodding to the band's decades of lost time. While lovely, it feels like scene setting for what's to come rather than a fully realized song. Elsewhere, "The Price Was High" blares out the gate with a fuzzy, Bowie-by-way-of-the-Cure goth strut, but Kelley's solo vocals don't quite manage to carry the song, hampered by some odd mixing choices that leave them scooped and thin.
And so Hard Light's back half ends up feeling too slight and polite compared to its propulsive side A. "Rose with Smoke" is an inessential mid-album instrumental that nearly kills all momentum, while a pair of acoustic indie-pop songs in "Lookout" and "Policeman Getting Lost," impede any possibility of recapturing the record's magnetic initial run, despite being perfectly pleasant.
Closer "T" thankfully ends the record on a strong note, synthesizing everything that works best about the 2023 incarnation of Drop Nineteens. At seven minutes, it's the longest song on the record by some measure, luxuriating in beautifully sung verses by Ackell and Kelley before dissolving in a sea of effervescent pastel guitar noise buoyed by Zimmerman's incredible bass lope. Here, the band triumphs by chasing beautiful excess; And though it makes a compelling enough case for Drop Nineteens' return, nothing on Hard Light sears and smoulders the same way Delaware's coarser passages did.
No nine-minute instrumental distortion odysseys punctuated by spoken-word digressions in the vein of "Kick the Tragedy," no unexpected blood-curdling screams like those that cleaved the fuzz-doom of "Reberrymemberer" in half. In shearing off that thorniness, Drop Nineteens have returned as a highly competent, often lovely, and perhaps less interesting version of themselves.
