Dude York, SIXES, SWEETIE DARLING @ SODA BAR $1 from each ticket will
go to "Caleb Scofield Memorial Fund" ≠≠ “There are two ways
things can fall,” says Dude York’s Claire England. “They can
fall and be ruined, or they can fall gently like a feather and be
fine.” On Falling, their second full-length for Hardly Art, the
Seattle trio explores that sentiment—evoked by the broken cake on
the album cover and the soft confetti on the inside sleeve—through
impossibly catchy and emotive songs that investigate the ways you can
fall in and out of relationships, and sometimes fall back together.
Recorded at Different Fur Studios in San Francisco with producer
Patrick Brown, Falling finds Dude York sounding bigger and more
fully-realized than ever with hits that would feel perfectly at home
sandwiched between Jimmy Eat World and Third Eye Blind in early 2000s
alt-rock radio rotation, while somehow still sounding utterly their
own. Peter Richards (guitar) and England (bass) share equal
songwriting and lead vocal duties on this record, a significant change
from their previous album, 2017’s Sincerely, on which England
fronted only two songs. The duality of their songwriting and vocals
compliment each other emotionally and sonically, with Andrew Hall’s
harmonies and driving drums providing their own unique character in
each song. The collaboration is clear—each part is carefully
crafted, with Richards’ guitar adding texture to the verses and then
soaring into the particularly special kind of guitar solos that make
you want to sing along. A line of nostalgia runs through the record as
the songs investigate the deep ties we have to the pop culture that
defined our youth. “I grew up listening to all this pop-punk and
alt-rock that was mostly male-fronted, but I want to fill that hole I
saw by recreating it now for myself,” says England. “I’m trying
to capture the feeling of the music I listened to when I fell in love
with music.” The title track is a gleeful ode to new, unexpected
love where all the details matter. “We used to like all the same
shit/do you think we’d be friends in 2006?” England sings. The
track is pure pop gold, with equal parts sweet sentiment and Josie and
the Pussycats-soundtrack playfulness. “I was starting to think/That
it would be/When passion lined up with practicality,” England muses
on those pesky expectations of love, gleaned from radio songs and
rom-coms. “But I secretly hoped when it happened to me there would
be no doubt/It would feel like falling.” Falling is tinged with a
sense of longing—whether it’s for the beginnings of a
relationship, for the way you thought it was going to be, or simply
for the version of a former self you think you remember being. “I
feel like a lot of the songs that were reference points consciously or
unconsciously for this record dealt with everything very much in black
and white, and that really resonates with you when you’re 14,15,16,
17…” explains Hall. “I think people who have nostalgia for those
songs are exploring that grey area a little bit more.” The
delightfully melodramatic “Box” sounds like a lost gem from the
NYC early aughts post-punk revival, with Richards’ deep, emotive
voice singing playful nods to The Killers and Dashboard Confessional
while sneaking in lines of a fallout that cut deep—“Now on your
own/There’s no one left for you to hide from behind your
phone”—before soaring into the Cure-like chorus “I’ll never
love again.” The production on Falling is full of meticulous details
and sonic tricks designed to hit that deep teenage place in your
heart, whether it’s the dense, chugging guitars or impeccably-placed
harmonies. “We all have very different reference points for music
and then when we swap them in becomes something totally different,”
says Richards. He didn’t grow up as attached to the radio-friendly
emo music that defined the adolescence of the rest of the band, but
when he got into the genre in the past few years decided he wanted to
embrace it in his songwriting, which comes across in the heavy guitars
and dramatic arrangements that shine on songs like “How it Goes.”
Ultimately, the relationship Dude York is really investigating and
playing around with is their relationship to music. By playing with
tropes of romantic relationships, Dude York created a record that
feels like a love letter to the alternative radio of yesteryear while
managing to stay uniquely singular. — Robin Edwards
http://dude-york.com [http://dude-york.com]
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25/01/2020 Last update