Rain City Drive
Things Are Different Now
Oh, please, gents—please don’t title your album like that if you aren’t going to make good on it. This is Rain City Drive’s third album with Matt McAndrew as their singer, and the supposed “uncharted territories” they’re striving for are still looking mighty…charted. Things really aren’t all that different now, as super-slick, pop-leaning post-hardcore in the most tenuous sense possible will attest to. To be fair to them, of those three albums, this is probably the best of them, but as with all of this sort of thing, it’s a margins game. In the macro sense, Rain City Drive remain basically indistinguishable from the rest of the scene at large, with little display of how they can remedy that. For a band who aren’t Slaves anymore, they don’t seem any freer.
To that end, then, addressing how this is the ‘best’ of their work doesn’t uncover any great techniques or revelations. It’s simply a better permutation of what Rain City Drive have been doing since their rebrand, almost entirely down to McAndrew. His vocals have the ideal combination of style-standard slickness and the airbrushed faultlessness of his talent show come-up, i.e. an upper level of pop portioning than many similar will inhabit. And he is a good singer (the void of individuality within his performance notwithstanding). His big, emotional swings are effectively impossible to duck under, a smidge more noteworthy than previous Rain City Drive albums have been. Let’s go a little further, even—the poppiest moments like Concrete Closure and Elusive Dream actually connect pretty resolutely, with the former being the closest to an earworm than Rain City Drive have ever had.
Though, let’s not put too great an onus on that; Things Are Different Now is still rather standard fare, after all. Take the name away and the anonymity really sets in, seeing as there’s precious little that Rain City Drive have to make them special or distinct from the swathes of acts on this exact wavelength. It’s actually a little disconcerting how prevalent it is—from sound palette to production strategies to songwriting style, they still have next to nothing of their own. On an album gagging for some lyrical detail, the line on Over Me about drinking Lucozade is like Atlas carrying the heavens on his shoulders, an utterly bizarre inclusion singlehandedly preventing the album from slipping into abject ephemera. Granted, there’s still the matter of another 30-odd minutes to contend with that produce little to speak on. A feature from Dayseeker’s Rory Rodriguez on Medicate Me might position itself that way, except it’s just another nondescript piece of sleek, aired-out, neon-lit post-hardcore to throw into the pot and watch dissolve in seconds.
It’s honestly a wonder that bands still see this as a viable path, because even if they’ll pull an audience, it’s not one liable to get bigger or have a vocal impact. Say what you like about Bad Omens but at least they put a somewhat-original spin on their hyper-produced metalcore; Rain City Drive, meanwhile, are making incremental improvements on a sound that’s forgettable and interchangeable at its base, and whose mainstream viability was buried years ago. And yet, they still keep going, with a brand of silent majority post-hardcore that’s got little to get enthused by. At least when Jonny Craig was at the helm, it was timely with the chance of some notoriety to keep them going. Now, though, for all their ‘stability’, and for all the atomised rungs above the competition they may be, Rain City Drive continue to only spark profound disinterest.
For fans of: Caskets, Emarosa, Picturesque
‘Things Are Different Now’ by Rain City Drive is released on 27th September on Thriller Records.
Happy Accidents
Edit Undo
With the indelible mark that Happy Accidents have left on indie-punk—Phoebe Cross has made waves in cheerbleederz and ME REX; Rich Mandell has produced for near enough everyone—they seem like the right candidates to be trying out something neat on Edit Undo. A pre-order (or a bit of online sleuthing) brings up a hidden page of additional versions and lore-related goodies, as a way of challenging the plummeting half-life of music that the streaming age has brought about. A noble goal, to be sure, and one that certainly behooves an indie-punk act for whom being shuffled out thanks to scene saturation is no new phenomenon. Compare what felt like a scene-stealing debut in 2016’s You Might Be Right with 2022’s cgwarmth that made not so much as a whimper on release, and the benefits of revealing a more dynamic and explorative version of Happy Accidents are quickly apparent.
Even then, though, the relative nature of terms like ‘dynamic’ and ‘explorative’ is doing an obscene amount of heavy lifting. This isn’t Happy Accidents’ glam-rock opera or anything; the closest to out-and-out reinvention is on small-scale indie-pop cuts like Forgive Me and All Around, founded in shrunken synth patter that’s the direct descendent of the bedroom-indie used elsewhere. Happy Accidents’ continuing insularity brings that about, now arguably in a state that reveals their most threadbare and ramshackle impulses. Though take that more as an observation than a criticism. Not entirely, perhaps—there’s a looseness that can sometimes feel a little meandering, as is the frequent wont of acts this deliberately small—but the cache of ideas is more satisfying to parse through than with most of the bedroom crowd.
For one, having the two individual voices helps. Despite neither being even remotely outside the usual indie-punk archetypes—Cross’ is delicate and waifish while Mandell’s is more nasal and vinegary—it’s good to have them as complementary presences overlaid on 4° or What’s Left. There’s a bit more warmth given to music that can otherwise feel gated off from it, and on the closer Be Afraid with its bubbling, cycling synths and faux-strings, even a little grandeur akin to a pared-back Blur. In terms of tone, it’s not dissimilar from many of the acts that Happy Accidents have found themselves around, only with the imperfect, sawdusty edges a little more so. In fact, the parallels are closest to Cross’ own cheerbleederz. Particularly on the pillowy indie-pop of Dog Days with lyrics like “Anarchist bookshops are all boarded up now / Think I know the reason why”, the mood is one of intimate observation and earnestness.
As a result, the base album of Edit Undo isn’t a widespread blowing-out of the indie-punk doors as its accompanying trimmings are supposed to be. It’s a good listen that continues a legacy held by one of the scene’s most longstanding practitioners, though you also can’t help but think the wider package is where the deepest cuts are dealt. Still, it is good; that shouldn’t be dismissed. On its own merits, there’s a solid display of indie-rock breadth amidst a small scale that sometimes cuts that off prematurely. As venerable vets of the sound, the channelling of Happy Accidents’ experience goes without saying, even on a standalone distanced from its additional tidbits. It’s not the new shining light of indie-punk—or even Happy Accidents’ own catalogue, for that matter—but to some degree, if nothing else, they’ve still got it.
For fans of: cheerbleederz, Fresh, Fightmilk
‘Edit Undo’ by Happy Accidents is released on 27th September on Alcopop! Records.
Lowen
Do Not Go To War With The Demons Of Mazandaran
In case you didn’t know, Mazandaran is a province of Iran, and also an indeterminate land in Persian mythology home to demons and evil magicians. Conflate the two, and it leads to an almost condemnatory read in this album’s title. That can be especially true in the context of Lowen’s frontwoman Nina Saeidi, born to Iranian exiles and in direct defiance of the nation’s laws prohibiting women from public singing outside of choirs or in female-only company. At the same time, though, there’s an element of cultural celebration that keeps Lowen hugely afloat, whether that’s in themes of Mesopotamian history in the lyrics and artwork, or just how Middle Eastern-inspired prog-metal in itself always seems to be worth celebrating.
While it’s true that those features are the majority of what Do Not Go To War With The Demons Of Mazandaran has going for it, said majority is significant. Saeidi’s vocals leap out most immediately, not just for core-of-the-diaphragm belting and tight, neat layering that gives an even more imposing loom, but in the Tahrir singing technique that makes the shape of performance that much more interesting. She’s pushed right to the front for a reason—hers is the unequivocally dominant presence. That extends to the cultural touchstones as a whole, in how some lines will be sung in Farsi, or how—like many geographically similar acts—the oppressive heat radiating from a style that’s already heavy and winding is a massive amplifier.
It should be said, however, that Lowen are better at invoking a mysticism in their sound than strictly translating that into songs. As a doom-y prog-metal band, that’s no unique underscore, and at least there’s enough about the overall formula to remain wrapped up in. They aren’t caught up in a gimmick; the ponderous yet inflamed tone stands out all by itself. The single pace is just par for the course, especially when most of these six tracks make a concerted effort to meld together almost as a single entity. It feels like an exercise in world-building, above most else, as a collection of long, slow, punishing riffs masquerades as the harsh, unexplored lands of Mazandaran where its ancient evils are hidden within.
There’s enough cool pieces in the intent and execution to add up to a real achievement for Lowen. Even if they’re somewhat cornered among prog and doom’s fairly diverse worlds, their background and the role that plays in their work feels like it could be enough of a springboard in the right circumstances. If nothing else, a fascinating cultural bent will always be enough to turn heads, and paired with a creative core that’s almost immovably solid, you might end up getting quite a lot from this. The mere presence of acts like Lowen makes this corner of heavy music so much richer.
For fans of: Baroness, Boss Keloid, Mountain Caller
‘Do Not Go To War With The Demons Of Mazandaran’ by Lowen is released on 4th October on Church Road Records.
Words by Luke Nuttall
