| ⭐⭐ |
I mean, come on. They practically teed me up…
The fifth studio album from this Baltimore-based hardcore band sees them continue even further into their newly-developed dream-punk sound. Established on their 2021 highlight ‘Glow On’, this fusion of the ethereal and the visceral saw them writing their catchiest and most exciting material to date.
4 years later, and Turnstile seems perfectly content to coast on prior success. Their latest here essentially being a carbon copy of their last. The title track reeks of the grungy ‘Glow On’ opener ‘Mystery’, staccato riffs from a track like ‘Blackout’ pop up again and again like a crutch. There’s some D-beat to be found in the bowels of the record. Even the soca rhythms from ‘Don’t Play’ are replicated identically on the horn-backed ‘Dreamin’. This time though, something is severely lacking.
For one, frontman Brendan Yates’ vocal presence seems to have diminished significantly. Where once upon a time he sounded spritely, projecting righteousness in his trademark sneer, he feels no longer a part of the music. Where he should be standing centre-stage, the vocal mix mostly has him sitting in the bleachers. There are exceptions, like ‘Birds’ for instance, ‘Sunshower’ being another. Unfortunately, they feel more like an oasis than the standard.
This would be enough of a complaint on its own, but a large portion of the tracks here sound dreadfully underdeveloped as well. Either they hammer the same kinds of punky riffs ad nauseam, or they pad the tracklist with inconsequential ambient interludes. Or they just loop a really forgettable verse and chorus section in order to extend a track beyond the 60 second mark. ‘Dull’ is the biggest offender of this.
This is all without mentioning the band’s cheesy attempts at writing quote-unquote pop songs. They seem to forgo hardcore completely, like on the second lead single ‘Seein’ Stars’, or the very clean-toned ‘I Care’. It becomes apparent quickly that Turnstile are trudging through uncharted territory. Their ambitions as a softer indie band not quite being captured by the awkward execution of these lighter moments. On the flipside though, the six-minute long ‘Look Out For Me’, which sees the band trying to extend a song’s length, falls flat because the band doesn’t seem to know where they want it to go. Rather than a cohesive build, they tack totally disparate sections onto each other and call it a day.
It’s one thing for a band to build upon a change in sound and experiment with it. It’s another to essentially tread old ground, subject your fanbase to musical déjà vu, half-attempt some poppy crossovers and call it a follow-up. The gutsy line-blurring of ‘Glow On’ is not complemented here. Which is a shame, because it makes that album seem like a total fluke.
Dan Will Review 