Review Summary: A perfect winter for the oncoming summer.
27 is too young to die, and cancer is a horrible way of dying. Thomas Fekete, Surfer blood's original lead guitarist, who passed away last year, was diagnosed with sarcoma, a rare form of cancer which quickly overtook his body and ended his life prematurely. From the outside looking in, an observer would never know the despair the band's songwriter, John, felt after their friend's death. With this added trauma, the songs found her now hold a feeling of paranoia and obsession with preservation, plunging the usually summery atmosphere into a bracing winter. The heavy riffs of the songs betray the anger at this death, and with the heavier tone, the normally bright melodies are filtered through a cynical lens, transforming the normally happy beach band into something different. Instead of love, and happiness, anger and frustration become the lyrical focus. The Pixies influence on Snowdonia here is stronger than ever, crashing in with icy waves of distortion that almost smother the beautiful Beach Boys-esque harmonies throughout the record.
Earnest things have have been undercut by cynicism and sarcasm, sunny warmth replaced with bitter cold. The time for clever, yet simple indie songs about love and life is over, and experimentation forces things in a more challenging direction. The title track here is the band's longest by almost two minutes, with long interludes between the various sections. These songs are still unmistakably Surfer Blood songs, frontman and songwriter John Pitts simply peels back all these layers of negativity and pours on layers of guitar fuzz in an effort to recover. It sounds like he's succeeding, and that fortunately results in some damn good indie rock.
RIP Tom, you will be missed by fans and family alike.
