5 new releases we love: Brittany Howard goes solo, Vivian Girls return to form, and more
Vivian Girls, Memory
[Polyvinyl, September 20]
While noise-pop bands Wavves, No Age, and Sleigh Bells focused on slapdash volume and metrics of trendiness in the late 2000s, Vivian Girls were busy solidifying what made them them: a sense of self, an indifference toward fame, and a nagging need to be the best they could. Since reforming following a five-year hiatus, the trio give off the air that nothing’s changed. While on paper quite a lot has changed, like playing in other bands and starting families, not much has in their music—and thank god, because Vivian Girls nailed the beauty of low-key noise-pop early on. It’s the little details that make Memory a polished version of their original sound: hazy vocal harmonies on “Something To Do,” an ominous new-wave vibe in “I’m Far Away,” the way they build intensity while remaining quiet on “Lonely Girl.” It’s wonderful to have guitarist Cassie Ramone, bassist Katy Goodman, and drummer Ali Koehler working together again, if only because it sounds so instinctual. [Nina Corcoran]
Pixies, Beneath The Eyrie
[BMG/Infectious, September 13]
Black Francis doesn’t have the same fire in his belly that he did as the 22-year-old whose shrieks launched a thousand bands with 1987’s Come On Pilgrim, but for the third Pixies album since its 2004 reformation, that’s actually a good thing. The prior two—2014’s Indie Cindy and 2016’s Head Carrier—suffered by comparison to the band’s original run of albums, aiming for the fierceness of youth but sounding winded in the process. Beneath The Eyrie comes on more subtly, though with songs that have more staying power. To say it’s more mature sounds like a backhanded compliment, but it isn’t: Grown-up just sounds more authentic for a 54-year-old recent divorcee. (You don’t have to listen super closely to hear that event’s influence on the lyrics here.) Which isn’t to say Under The Eyrie is a snoozer, either: “Catfish Kate” is an undersea adventure that slinks and wails before giving way to a poppy chorus, while “On Graveyard Hill” has that Doolittle crunch, though a more refined air. Like the rest of Eyrie, it nods to the classic years without bowing to them. [Josh Modell]