Review Summary: The dull, aching pain in your heart may just feel better one day.
Suddenly, it is autumn again. Not ten seconds into the first track, I close my eyes and can already see the leaves falling from the trees. Immediately I am brought into a place of departure, sorrow, and nostalgia. I can feel the first snowflakes of a barren and harsh winter fall onto my cheeks as I peer into the endless grey skies. The chilly winds blow through the evening as Ryan Karazija’s folky strummed guitar plays a contemplative, almost familiar melody and the ambience envelopes the space around it, pulling you into a cozy, yet lonely and sparse affair. When I opened my eyes, I found myself in Ryan’s kitchen, sitting next to him on a laptop, where this entire album was recorded.
He’s a California native, left his old band, and relocated himself in Iceland. Low Roar was his way of coping with all the emotions that came fluttering to the surface thereafter. He didn’t realize how deep the heartache and homesickness would feel, and you can sense the yearning instantly. With its beautiful string arrangements, echoing synths, and minimal percussion, the entire album gives a certain downtempo mood that you will only want to listen to when you are feeling lonely, alone in an empty bedroom. “I've grown numb/Dry as my tear ducts/I've grown dumb/and empty/But don't give up on me...” he begs the listener in the opener, Give Up, as if we could really save him. Without a proper band to back him, his songwriting skills are surprisingly great and hold up the album up enough to get it where it needs to be. Standouts like Patience, with its slow burning strings, and Nobody Else, with its icy experimental rhythm section, showcase the potential of where his sound can go when it is successful.
However, the songs in the second half of the album are less memorable. They do stay true to the cozy formula and atmosphere and don’t bog the pacing down much. There are two instrumentals on the album as well that don’t push any real boundaries but are enjoyable enough and add some more space in the sound. Things pick back up at the eight-minute long closing track, Tonight, Tonight, Tonight, that finally cranks the electronic beats to eleven, and we are left in a blizzard of noise as he reminds us “No I ain’t gonna be here too long” over and over until the buzzing stops. There is one gem in the tracklisting that is pure singer-songwriter perfection: Friends Make Garbage (Good Friends Take It Out). It is mostly plucked on an acoustic guitar with harmonica and reverbed accents and is about a long lost childhood friend-and lover-that unfortunately was lost in the past..
We sailed across the sea
Aimlessly, no direction or timeline
The shore we'd come to find
We'd seen before, never spoke or shared a word
No need, your true thoughts they can't be heard
You're too beautiful for words
Don't follow roads paved in gold
They will only let you down
What's the fun when you can't share what you've found
Years to build, in a second it's brought down
The melody is haunting and drenched in nostalgic griefs. In fact, I was so moved by the lyrics it was hard to just highlight a single line. Ryan is trying to come to terms with his relationships in his past, accepting what happened to them, but not forgetting what they will always mean to him. His soothing falsetto voice has been harkened to alternative and post-rock giants Radiohead and Sigur Rós, and for good reasons. His approach to the music as true therapy sets him apart as being original, thankfully, instead of an imitator. It never sounds like he is trying to sound like anybody but himself, and he lets his songs just speak for themselves, as simple as the arrangements may be. Low Roar’s masterpiece sophomore album, 0, was released in 2014 and was accompanied by two additional musicians. There, his sound comes full circle. The humble vibrations found here in the debut are an excellent, honest, and earthy start. Keep singing, Ryan… because the dull, aching pain in your heart may just feel better one day.
