Anyone else think that album cover is a bit too…sinister for this? There’s just something that doesn’t sit right about the grainy greyscale this particular image, where the sun is already overbearing and intensifying above this group frolicking in the sea. A better fit would actually be from artwork that Seahaven have used before, on 2014’s Reverie Lagoon: Music For Escapism Only. If there’s any image perfect to encapsulate the feel of this self-titled album, it’s that one—a melancholy, sepia silhouette, as the sun goes down and its light twinkles on the ocean.
It’s also probably the most defining image that Seahaven have produced during their tenure, fitting for their reputation as the hazier, dreamier member of emo’s 2010s class. It’s only become more refined as they’ve grown with it, too. As tradition tends to dictate, this is an indie-rock album before anything too emo or post-hardcore, bestowed with an more reflective viewpoint fostered by age. If that sounds worryingly familiar to Basement’s fumble on WIRED just a few weeks ago, don’t panic. With what Seahaven naturally are, they’ve eased into this with a lot more grace.
In fact, it’s even rather surprising to see how well this works. There are times when the closest parallel is to less pious Switchfoot, and yet, at no point is it too dry or drab to function. Instead, it’s the absolute optimal streamlining of the band that Seahaven have always been perceived as. It’s so comfortable for them to slide into, as well, thanks to one of the most luxurious mixes on an indie album you’ll hear all year. The tones are warm and fresh, with a mix that’s so accommodating of light on Hellbound or February Flowers, but never to the point of being anodyne. You can tell that Will Yip had a hand in this when human presence remains vital amid such a high dose of crystal-clear serenity.
Further to that, Seahaven do still believe they’re an emo band. As alluring as going full shoegaze has proven to be, the benefits of a more straightforward rock experience are what steers this album. A handful of standout choruses is chief among them, as Infinite Blue and Million Ways brim with a vastness fitting of their respective names, and Midnight Hour even borders on Catfish And The Bottlemen in its voice and execution. There are also great, supple bass at multiple junctures as notable support, and Tidal Wave and Long Goodbye take a concerned plunge into straight emo and indie-rock, fully committing and shining.
It’s frontman Kyle Soto that’s the ultimate trump card on Seahaven’s self-titled, though, and it’s not particularly close. Him not being the most stunning singer ever is a total non-issue; it’s the intent behind the voice that matters. In this case, the heartbreak at the core of this performance is so perfectly realised, against a backdrop of mild, hazy late-summer tones that practically yearns for additional resonance. (If Seaheaven had pushed the release date of this album back by a couple of months, just for seasonal synergy, no one could’ve blamed them.)
Thus, Soto, with a human, hangdog voice that’s not one for grand gestures, experiences the tired languor that comes from this placelessness. Mood is vital, and Seahaven basically never miss here. The punctuating sigh on Remember Me is an inspired choice; later, Highwire and Wedding Bells play with a timbre that’s flowing and liberated but profoundly distant. Even something as direct as the sullenly melodic Hellbound just fits exactly as it should. There are some stellar individual lines here, too, with the potential to be insufferably emo that’s blasted away but how matter-of-fact Soto is. The overall highlight comes on Million Ways with “You got the kind of face they love to put in movies / The kind they make about a life worth living”, just an insanely evocative lyric that rolls everything worth adoring about this album into a single image.
There’s a simplicity to all of this that acts as Seahaven’s greatest strength, without fail. There’s not one instance of overreach or overworking; for what this album intends to do, the craft is effectively perfect. And that’s a bit of a surprise from Seahaven, a band who, other than a couple more auxiliary descriptors, were just another Balance & Composure / Citizen / all the rest at their peak. Now, though? They’re on a path that’s not only sensible for them, but feels like it was always theirs to take. The fact this album only gets better with each subsequent spin almost seems too obvious. Like, as if a shimmering, pensive, beautifully-sounding musing wouldn’t do that.
For fans of: Citizen, Have Mercy, Aaron West & The Roaring Twenties
‘Seahaven’ by Seahaven is released on 5th June on Pure Noise Records.
Words by Luke Nuttall
