Review Summary: When the world burns, we dance.
If you read what
Goodbye Divine does on paper, it would probably sound like a bland, derivatively safe album that brings absolutely nothing new to the genre. And in some small sense, there is truth to that; after all, there’s nothing here that particularly redefines the mould. However, what
Goodbye Divine lacks in originality it makes up for with punctilious execution, fervent fandom for the style it sets out to recreate, and a prudent handling on the nuanced influences it centres itself around. In essence,
Goodbye Divine is a celebration to the post-punk lore that already exists, and it does this task with a penetrating gusto. It’s a succinct ride, densely packed with shimmering guitar work, melancholic synth, and a deluge of chorus effects. The overall aesthetic feels like a romantic love story, plonking its protagonists on top of a serene hill, beset by the end of the world unfolding around them. Ean Elliot Clevenger’s nasally serenades encapsulate the particulars of the genre, but it would be an understatement to say he really nails the trajectory of these pieces. The sum of its parts creates a record filled with vitality, anguish, and felicity, sometimes all in the space of one song (“PS Goodnight”).
The design of Creux Lies’ sophomore album is a defining strength as well. The overtly excellent goth-y hues, new romantic shades, and its proclivity for authentic post-punk aesthetics is made that much more enjoyable when you take into account how perfect the run time is.
Goodbye Divine waits for no one – it throws concise compositions at you for just over thirty-five minutes, leaving you satisfied but mildly itchy to get back into the album again. It’s the type of album that’s perfect to jump in and out of, and is so accessible and malleable it caters to your urges. Wrapping this up; if you enjoy bands like The Cure, Echo and the Bunnymen, and The Chameleons, as well as more contemporary bands like Dommin, this will be right up your alley – and is sure to quench your thirst for downcast, romantic chaos, which this album offers in abundance.
