Deafheaven is back and edging away from their harder beginnings. The music is slower, builds more, has more singing, has less growl, is more lighthearted. That said, it still can kick into high gear. If you were a fan of old Deafheaven, which some might describe as black metal (and I would describe as gentle metal or wall of sound metal) then this might not be your top pick from their catalogue.

It's still a stellar album. There is a lot of echo, reverb, empty space on this album. There also is a lot of fuzz, but it's tender fuzz, fuzz like the outside of a peach, fuzz like moss on a tree. Deafheaven have crafted an impressive indie rock album. Though on a first listen it can feel generic and uninspired at times, on repeat listens there's a lot to unpack and enjoy. From the calm opening to the sprawling, swelling closer (clocking in at eight minutes) Deafheaven shows off their range. The drums are tight and crisp, the fuzzy, splashing guitars lend to anthemic fist pumping choruses (musically, not in the singing department). They dabble in gentle post-rock guitar licks. The middle of the album has an ambient lite track that feels like music that might float behind the last scene of a movie where the protagonists watch earth drift from view on a space craft. It's closer to ambient than guitar rock, but fits the albums structural style. It's good, but also, hey, don't name a song “Lament for Wasps.” I get it, you're artistic, you're philosphical, but no one is here for your lyrics guys. You used to shout and growl. This album is a strong effort in a new, bright direction, and, like its album cover, a grainy, pointilist blue on black, has a calming and focused energy. Way to go Deafheaven, way to go.

Not Worse Than 311

3/5