Review Summary: It's all gone
Maybe it’s callous to expect more from an artist when they’re already putting so much of themselves on record - especially in a genre fundamentally built on the relationship between heart and sleeve. All the same,
Households is the kind of emo record that exemplifies vague catharsis, clawing for emotional release while restraining itself. It could be a byproduct of the album’s design; while not necessarily a one-trick-pony, it’s not particularly diverse in its minimalist mixture of choral harmonies and twinkly/reverby/Owen-esque guitar melodies. The greater issue is how the album doesn’t lyrically make the most of its fifteen minute run time, lacking the punchlines or striking couplets that could transform the songs from one-minute ditties into the musical equivalent of a sucker punch. Most of the time, the record is content with floating on the strength of its compositions, providing the soundtrack to a personal rut.
And yet when it decides to delve into the specificity that this kind of lush desolation thrives on, Saint Tomorrow deliver a more potent rendition of their musical potential. “Tradition of Closure” and “Inside Jokes” - mourning the death of a friend and a future without them - deal in a palpable sense of agony, without bogging themselves down in melodrama. It’s a hint of what the album could be, weaponising its own flaws and formulaic sincerity to paint a devastating portrait of the tragedy of youth: not just the bright flame snuffed out, but how the surrounding flames appear dimmer in its absence. Maybe it’s callous to expect more from Saint Tomorrow when they already see themselves as “no name, no face” - or when I already enjoy their sound enough to be complacent if they decide not to evolve. All the same, perhaps ‘more’ is the first step forward to something better.
