Melbourne-based quartet
Quivers
are part of a long line of thoughtful, emotionally rich indie rock heavy on jangly guitars, sharp melodic angles, and lyrics that get so personal they become universal. A casual listen to
Oyster Cuts
(the band's third full length album and first for their new label
Merge
) might register similarities to the melancholic drifting of
the Go-Betweens
, the sad-hearted anthems of '80s acts like
the Motels
,
the Pretenders
, or even
Blondie
or
Springsteen
at their most downturned, and more than anything, catchy sing-along parts that find the entire band belting vocals out in unison. Below this already appealing surface of highly listenable guitar pop is the core of what makes
really stand out; their introspective songwriting style that explores fear, grief, loss, and hope with a rare boldness. Almost each of the ten songs on
is earnest and raw, like they could only be drawn from personal experience. "Pink Smoke" balances a lyrical portrayal of small town ennui with spirited riffs and yearning group vocals, the sound capturing the loneliness of growing up in a sleepy, go-nowhere environment. "Apparition" blends in some sleazy classic rock guitars, as well as a cheeky
Pavement
reference only real indie nerds will catch. The band also experiments with tasteful synthesizer lines and piano on "Grief Has Feathers," blissful dream pop textures on "Screensaver," and reverb-saturated bitterness on the nervy and uptempo "Fake Flowers." The album's title track ties together all of
' charms, collecting moody melodic twists and metered, sullen instrumental shifts that evoke suburban listlessness, unresolved conflicts that color entire summers, and the bruises left on the heart by broken friendships.
is a softly triumphant album, one that replaces the noncommittal vagueness that plagues so much indie rock with songs that tackle difficult feelings directly. It's a sound as beautiful as it is weary, and one that gets better the more involved you become with it. ~ Fred Thomas