Within the span of two weeks, some of indie rock’s biggest stars—Parquet Courts and Snail Mail—released follow-ups to their previous, acclaimed records, Lush and Wide Awake! respectively. Parquet Courts’ Sympathy for Life, which came out on October 22 to coincide with their tour of eastern America, and Snail Mail’s Valentine, which was released on November 5 to praise from Pitchfork, DIY Magazine and the New York Times, are two of the fall season’s most talked about independent albums.
Jumpstarting Sympathy for Life with a thumping, four-on-the-floor dance rhythm, “Walking at a Downtown Pace” operates within all of the New York dance-punk band’s strengths. Its simple chord structure is given a bounce from Sean Yeaton’s trademark bass lines, which mirror the melodies of vocalist Andrew Savage and complement his shout-along vocal style. It’s vibrant, critical of human’s absurdity and smoothly structured—the same qualities that made the band’s previous release Wide Awake! so infectious and acclaimed. Elements of percussion are slightly panned across both ears, creating an atmosphere that first shocks and then, half a second later, lassos its listeners.
However, following this song, the album’s momentum almost gets lost. Parquet Courts take stabs at upbeat punk songs like “Just Shadows,” but the dull mixing and lack of layering leave behind a lazy, empty space, instantly killing any energy they could inspire. The simplistic bass lines add no counter melody or movement, and the songs linger irritatingly on one chord progression, providing little structure.
The lead single “Plant Life” is absent of any rhythm guitar and substitutes a smacked snare drum for digital handclaps. The song focuses more on synth melodies, which are uninspired and feel pointless, than acoustic instruments, inspiring no tonal variation. For instance, in the background, an 80s-inspired, resonant synth pad cycles up and down a major scale in uninteresting quarter notes, repeating for the track’s duration: it’s a grating addition that emphasizes Parquet Courts’ lackluster songwriting on Sympathy for Life.
The precise, philosophical lyrics of songs like “Violence” from Wide Awake!—”Violence is the fruit of unreached understanding that flowers from the lips of scoundrels”—are reduced to uninspiring descriptions of a dystopian society that read more like a pseudo-poetic political tweet. On “Homosapien,” a sappy, nihilistic satire of modern life, Brown sings, “What a time to be alive: a TV set in the fridge, a voice that recites the news and leaves out the gloomy bits.” The contrast in quality should be painfully apparent to the band’s dedicated fans.
The album is split distinctly between the band’s singers: Austin Brown and Andrew Savage. Savage’s style, aggressive and unique given Savage’s deep voice, lunges the album forward, exciting listeners, whereas Brown’s timid delivery and repetitive lyrical structure, while providing contrast and helping to avoid monotony, changes the album’s course tonally in a manner too drastic to feel natural.
Although Sympathy for Life may falter in other areas, its exploration of uncharted genres provides listeners a fresh experience. The album’s closer, “Pulcinella,” is a relaxed alt-country song that highlights Savage’s introspection. He recaps the effects of his personal relationships in a stream-of-consciousness style: ”I drag a chain of faces and names, some I’ve cut off, some were lost, some will always be locked to me.” His attempts to process the complexity of love are blocked by a feeling of inhumanity expressed through metaphor: “And it feels like my brain is the binary code’s problem now, but I’d rather be stuffed with straw than made of tin.”
The one-chord “Application/Apparatus” builds progressively, beginning with distorted 808 kick drums, a driving, eighth-note bass rhythm and short-circuiting synthesizers. As the song continues, vocal harmonies, additional percussive elements and a lead guitar riff enter the mix subtly, the focus of the song transferring to each individual component.
The track concludes with a full soundscape retracted inwards, with only a crunchy guitar and Brown’s aggressive vocals flaring, “Young people enjoying urban habitation, headlights beaming with western potential.” It’s Parquet Courts’ most realized transformation into krautrock, a type of experimental music focused on tasteful repetition; if the rest of Sympathy for Life housed this precision, the band could have fulfilled the transition. Instead, the band only somewhat satisfies their aspirations with a tracklisting that’s too inconsistent to fully resonate with its listeners.
Snail Mail’s sophomore album, Valentine, has been a long time coming. Frontwoman Lindsey Jordan has grown up tremendously since the debut of Lush, and that growth is reflected in Valentine’s sound. The 22-year-old Maryland native has been praised for her intricate guitar melodies, distinctly unpolished voice, and wise-beyond-her-years lyrics since she broke into the indie rock scene in high school.
Gravitating away from Jordan’s guitar-driven comfort zone, Valentine has a unique sound characterized by even scratchier vocals, experimental synthesizers, acoustic guitars and even a full orchestra on “Mia.” However, there are plenty of remnants of early Snail Mail on songs like “Glory,” with melancholic guitar rhythms and bittersweet vocal harmonies.
Jordan’s rough-around-the-edges vocals can be a bit of an acquired taste. On Valentine, her unpolished vocals reflect the ups and downs of young love, especially on songs like “Automate” and “Light Blue,” jumping between registers in a cohesive, purposeful fashion. The entire album is purposefully disjointed, with Jordan flip-flopping between yearning, emotional pain, smugness (see “Ben Franklin”) and adoration. She delivers her lines as if it’s the last thing she’ll do, providing listeners with raw, intense glimpses into the emotions of the songs.
On Jordan’s freshman album Lush, Jordan captured a teenage angst-driven, idealistic version of love, longing, and heartbreak. On Valentine, she views love from a new perspective: one of experience.
The album opens with an eponymous ballad filled to the brim with the sort of explosive jealousy and desperation that only a lover scorned—and then replaced—could capture, with Jordan belting the question, “Why’d you wanna erase me, darling valentine?”
On “Automate,” Jordan sings, “I’ll never find a love like this,” a line reminiscent of Lush’s single, “Pristine,” wherein Jordan declares, “I’ll never love anyone else,” with the all-too-familiar desperation of a teenager experiencing longing, infatuation and then heartbreak for the first time.
Undying devotion to a lover has been a prevalent theme throughout Snail Mail’s discography, and it stands in the foreground of Valentine. “I’m like your dog,” Jordan sings on “Automate.” This topic goes hand-in-hand with another theme of the album: obsession.
“Doesn’t obsession just become me?” asks Jordan on “Forever (Sailing),” a melody-driven track with slinky drums, sparse guitar and heavy bass. Its lyrics are laced with spite and hurt, but Jordan’s love for the subject of the song still shines through in typical Snail Mail fashion.
Valentine’s closing track, “Mia,” is a look into the painful immediate aftermath of a breakup. Jordan sings the lines, “Mia, don’t cry/I’ll love you forever/but I’ve gotta grow up now,” with a gut-wrenching gentleness. The lyrics capture the themes of the album: love, loss and getting older. It’s typical for Jordan to end albums on a bittersweet note. She ends her freshman album Lush with the song “Anytime,” closing with the line, “and still, for you, anytime.”
Valentine is a heart-wrenching album that captures the all-encompassing nature of young love and heartbreak. It may not be as cohesive as Lush, but its disjointedness helps convey the ups and downs of Jordan’s experiences with relationships, indie stardom and navigating adulthood.
