A ROLLICKING RETURN FOR ALVVAYS, ONE OF CONTEMPORARY GUITAR MUSIC’S SHINING LIGHTS.
A year on from the unwanted introduction into all our lives of the novel coronavirus, genuine worry began to spread among the online fandom of Canadian indie darlings Alvvays.
Just what had become of the immensely likeable band whose brace of albums, released in 2014 and 2017, had been such potent cultural antidotes to the creeping malevolence of socio-political life in the proceeding decade?
Happily, the fears of their most fatalist fans were assuaged in October 2021 when the band showed up to finish their rescheduled March 2020 tour supporting The Strokes, capped off with a solo billing at San Francisco’s August Hall.
Performing in public again after so long, singer Molly Rankin, guitarist Alec O’Hanley and keyboardist Kerri MacLellan came armed with a new rhythm section and three unreleased songs which, in their recorded forms, now comprise the backbone of Side One of Blue Rev.
Easy On Your Own?, debuted in 2019, is classic Alvvays: melancholy, wise, empathetic, anthemic and somehow free from cliché.
The majority of the recording for Blue Rev took place immediately prior to those October gigs, in Los Angeles with in-demand producer Shawn Everett (The War On Drugs, The Killers, Kacey Musgraves). Keeping eventual singles — the burst of swirling melancholy that is album opener Pharmacist, the provocative Very Online Guy and the stunningly accomplished Belinda Says — under wraps for now, they opted to premier After The Earthquake and Many Mirrors for their audiences.
The former was a fitting choice, serving as a kind of microcosm of the album they would end up making. Initially sounding like something off either of their first two albums, with that warm indie-pop sound conjured by interwoven guitar arpeggios clearly referencing Smiths-era Johnny Marr, the tempo becomes breathless and the musical backing grows denser until the mix threatens to become overwhelmed by it all.
There is a sudden breakdown, leaving only a keyboard playing the first beat of each bar and Rankin singing in a hushed voice recorded close to mic before the full arrangement comes crashing in again for a crescendo of screeching guitar — far from the only time this trick is heard on Blue Rev.
Many Mirrors on the other hand retains the sweetness of Alvvays’ earlier work, with Rankin addressing her bandmates in a relaxed and compassionate vocal style reminiscent of Courtney Barnett.
Rankin tries on numerous different voices across the 14 tracks of Blue Rev: on the thrillingly punky stomp of Pomeranian Spinster she largely dispenses with her light-as-air falsetto, opting for the sassy vocal stylings of someone like Chrissie Hynde, while on the descending harmonies of Tile By Tile she croons like Lana Del Rey, mimicking the latter’s gift for sensuous role playing through carefully constructed phrasing.
Barring some noticeably off-key singing on Tom Verlaine, Rankin continues to equip herself brilliantly as a vocalist, conveying fragility and self-assurance as and when the songs demand it.
Take for instance the mocking character study Very Online Guy: the majority of the song is sung in languid legato, as if reflecting the brain rot and complacency of the song’s subject, but when Rankin herself appears to enter into the narrative for the bridge, her singing is rendered utterly heartrending in its vulnerability.
Presumably the main reason behind another year having elapsed between Blue Rev’s initial recordings and its eventual release is due to Everett’s meticulous production process. The press release for the album states that, having instructed the band to record each track live over the course of two days, Everett then, ‘spent an obsessive amount of time alongside Alvvays filling in the cracks, roughing up the surfaces, and mixing the results’.
The production is certainly bold in comparison with Alvvays’s previous albums: guitar pyrotechnics abound, vocal tracks are many and often heavily processed, and MacLellan’s keyboards are awarded more space in the mix than they have had previously.
The effect is such that when Abbey Blackwell’s bass playing is heard prominently for the first time on the comparatively sparse Bored in Bristol, the album’s 12th track, it comes as a surprise.
Consequently, some listeners may find the initial experience of listening to Blue Rev to be needlessly overpowering. Ultimately, time will tell whether these songs are helped or hindered by their production. For now it is enough to simply celebrate the return of Alvvays, and their creation of another exemplary collection of songs.
May their next album be sooner in arriving, but just as abundant in ideas and performed with the same gusto that is found here.