Review Summary: A startling rebirth
After waiting so long for this moment I don’t even know where to begin, but Fireworks aren’t making it any easier. The band’s first album in nine years,
Higher Lower Power, is a risky, expansive evolution of their sound that’s only been toyed with previously. The concept was initially set into motion in 2019, when Fireworks released the minimalistic “Demitasse”: a hushed seven-minute pop song filled with dazzling experimentation and vulnerable vocals. Officially breaking their 5-year hiatus, the song streamed on the band’s new website accompanied by several mysterious survey questions centered around the concept of a higher power. The idea and track were intriguing enough to build moderate anticipation at the very least. Several unfortunate delays later, the sudden release of “Higher Lonely Power” finally arrives when we least expect it: either hung over from the holidays or focused on the yearly short-lived “resolution.” Plans be damned.
I’ve essentially locked myself in a room to jam
Higher Lonely Power on repeat the last several days and I still have no idea what I’m listening to, which is perhaps the best compliment I can give to Firework’s long-awaited comeback album. A song with a head-scratcher of a title like “Jerking Off the Sky” begins to (sort of) make sense once the shimmering, experimental layers bury the band’s previous identity – only traces of it now scratching at the surface. While
Gospel and
Oh, Common Life had some detours away from pop-punk, they still corrected course back to the upbeat backbone that Fireworks were known for. Things change, especially in nearly a decade’s time.
Higher Lonely Power is an ambitious lunge into uncharted territory with no looking back. The results are strange, beautiful, and a bit dizzying; this is an album unlike anything they’ve ever done.
The band's fourth LP demands attention almost instantly, as pummeling guitars and strung-out vocals converge for a rare, chaotic energy on “God Approved Insurance Plan”. For a band often known for their charm over their intensity, it’s quite the unexpected, potent dose of hardcore aggression. Then the album swiftly shifts gears into a path of softer soundscapes that are as unfamiliar as they are creative. Warm, mildly glitchy synths and glowing string sections swell throughout the highly atmospheric journey that ensues. It’s a startling rebirth that keeps one of the most important strengths of Fireworks’ previous material intact: their knack for storytelling that’s as purely genius as it is amusing.
Higher Lonely Power is filled with scathing humor, each band member collectively roasted with brilliant PUP-esque lines: “we slept in the same bed but different houses, hating ourselves since the early 2000s.” Longtime vocalist Dave Mackinder still has that witty delivery and certain charisma that keeps him out of the just-another-nasally-vocalist category, but we also get the opportunity to hear him in new and exciting ways. Shrouded in a hazier aesthetic on “I Want to Start a Religion” but biting and sarcastic on “Blood in the Milk”, his performance is bright and versatile without taking away from the band’s most adventurous musicianship yet. He also convincingly changes his tone to tackle dark subjects like the flaws of American Christianity and greed in a way that’s deliberate but far from typical. Most of the lyrics on
Higher Lonely Power require more deciphering. Even at their most political, these are nuanced tracks designed to get you thinking; nothing seems to be in black and white.
Once the punchy prophets of dorm-room antics (much like the early The Wonder Years),
Higher Lonely Power is the ultimate progression for the Detroit pop-punk band. It constantly challenges the listener with new ideas – shapeshifting with a seemingly limitless selection of influences – and ever so subtly makes the band’s most powerful statements yet. Apart from a few exceptions like the condensed, manic guitars of “Funeral Plant” or the cute choral arrangements of “Goodnight Tomb”, much of
Higher Lonely Power relies on a dynamic, slow-burning approach. I don’t know if it will ever connect with me on the personal level that
Gospel has. I don’t know what my favorite track is. Even as a longtime fan of Fireworks, much of what I’m hearing remains mysterious even after excessive jamming sessions. What I do know without a doubt: as much as I love their other albums, I’ve never been quite this intrigued.
