For The Record: CHVRCHES

The era of indie rock is dwindling. Thirty years or so is a good run, all things considered; but the young teens of today simply aren’t interested in taking the time to hone their six-string skills for the heartthrobs of freshman year creative writing class when more immediately accessible instruments – a.k.a. torrented, open source music software – are readily available.

Such widespread access has accordingly fostered an explosion of independent electronic projects within a musical realm traditionally consisting of either intricate and ambient dance, genre-fusing production (The Knife, LCD Soundsystem, Youth Lagoon), or critically-scoffed emotionally-vapid synthpop (Owl City, 3OH!3, post-“Toxic” Britney). Only in the last few years has anything vaguely resembling pure ‘electronic pop’ attracted positive acclaim. Crystal Castles, Grimes and Purity Ring come to mind, as do Passion Pit and that one MGMT song they hardly ever play anymore, yet no act of late seems to encompass the complete picture, the simultaneous lightness, catchiness and sincerity needed for an idyllic electro-pop album.

Then came along Glasgow-trio CHVRCHES who, with a couple of singles and a handful of EPs, ignited a fury of blog buzz and hopeful whispers that the ideal could be achieved, provided their initial success wasn’t a fluke, of course.

It wasn’t.

The release of debut LP The Bones of What You Believe stomped, pulsed and bumped through expectations. 12 tracks, 48 minutes, one listen—all that’s needed to thrust CHVRCHES into the spotlight as the indiesphere’s pillar of electro-pop.

Let it be clear, this album is by no means transcendent or ground-breaking. It is not the next Kid A, Silent Shout or Merriweather Post Pavilion.  But it is a tightened package boasting an expansive spectrum of varied intensity, teasing listeners with darkly anthematic choruses opposing sparkling interludes and shimmering bridges. It is a collection of towering hooks and infectious beats pierced by wavering throbs of deep cascading electronic greatness. It is an album to groove to and swoon to; an album of passion and gloom and relationships facing their doom. In other words, it is one hell of a debut.

A brief disclaimer: this review is extremely subjective. I love this band. I’ve been jamming to at least one CHVRCHES track on a daily basis since “Recover” first permanently lodged itself onto my consciousness back in March. Hundreds of listens, if not more, have not yet sickened me and an incredible concert experience cemented my biases. But my fervor is certainly qualified.

Take “The Mother We Share,” the single that launched CHVRCHES into the spotlight and fittingly kicks off the new record. The pounding crystal-clear melody envelops an icy chorus – “I’m in misery where you can seem as old as your omens/And the mother we share will never keep your proud head from falling” – and comes full circle to form one of the catchiest tracks of the last year. The rhythm of the following track, “We Sink” trickles down to a sweetly sung promise: “I’ll be a thorn in your side ‘til you die/I’ll be a thorn in your side for always/We Sink/We Lift Our Love.” Her earnestness is so palpable that when “Gun” – probably the best track on the album, the perfectly structured pop song, the best single since last year’s “Oblivion” – strikes, it’s almost unbelievable that the same adorable Lauren Mayberry is warning a past lover to “Hide, Hide/I have burned your bridges/Now I’ll be a gun/And it’s you I’ll come for.”

CHVRCHES thrills itself on these juxtapositions. On the album’s latter half, the darkest track “Science/Visions” attacks the ear drums with a muffled, sinister tempo before a saccharine voice and soothing bass line massages the assault away on “Lungs.”

“Night Sky” bursts with a crescendo, donning one of the many climaxes on the LP. It’s hard not to belt it out when driving through the shadowy streets of a Middlebury evening. And then, of course, there’s “Recover,” the neon-plastered dance floor anthem playing off one of the simpler melodies that refuses to loosen its grip from whatever cruel part of the brain keeps songs on repeat.

As partial as I am, I can note some low points in this record. “Under the Tide” is just okay; and, as one fellow concert-goer noted when I had the chance to hear this excellent record in action, Martin Doherty is “pretty off-key the entire time.” Also, I can’t quite get into the groove of “Science/Visions” after the adrenal high of “Night Sky.”

I think that covers the downside.

But don’t just take my word for it. Give this album — this beautiful treatise on unadulterated electro-pop — a shot in its original form, before every DJ across the country pickpockets some samples and puts out remixes to half of the songs. You’ll be glad you did.