The Drowners - The Evening World Comes Out to Meet You

The Drowners

The Evening World Comes Out to Meet You
self-released; 2022

3.9 out of 5

By Michael E. Vincent​

Take one part lockdown shed, stir in a dastardly virus and season to taste with sad-sack influences like The Cure, Suede and Pulp. The result: an ear wrenching chain of post-punk buzz n’ drone, masquerading as lite goth, and – quite aptly – calling itself The Drowners. The Evening World Comes Out to Meet You is the debut EP of this Western Australia-based outfit. And while it isn’t dark just for the sake of art, the “repurposed alternative pop” spread among five tracks certainly fits the scope of its title. Namely, within the space of 19 minutes, the band lean heavily on morose tonality, while lyrically tackling subjects as random as party escapes, astrology and wine stain carpet treatments. No, this isn’t a late night infomercial, but it is an exploration of the antipodean psyche with curtains drawn.

And, oh, hey(!), is one of these guys sporting a mullet on the album cover? That's certainly worth an ironic style point or three. When in doubt, tongues generally fit well into cheeks (particularly if you’re not tasked with a lead singing role). A glance at the band’s Instagram feed further exemplifies this offbeat jest through the lens (pun intended) of droll absurdity. And since these visuals bleed nicely into the song structure, we’ll forgive them for asserting their ruination over the local art rock scene.

“The Evening World Comes Out To Meet You” opens with pulsing bass, warmth and vibration, all of which capture the atmosphere of an after dark milieu. The song doesn’t gain much ground, however, which is very likely the point. Pissing firmly in one spot, it marks a sonic stain that neither develops nor dries, but rather, rumbles on muscularly. Likewise, “Remember Everything” pays homage to a stiffened Joy Division groove. Droning keyboards set the tone for a quick fingered night drive; lasered head beams optional. 

By “Lay Me Down,” a raw discordancy takes grip. The track is plastered with buzzsaw jerkiness and cruel, mechanized noises, borrowing David Bowie production values from The Idiot. “The Speed Of Light Is Very Fast,” besides stating the obvious, features a spate of drunken guitar noodling. This is a sentimental backfire, an attempt at stripped down soul-searching that plays too threadbare with its vocal hiccups. Fortunately, the closing cut, “French Exit,” reverts to form. Here, a sleazy beat meshes with serviceable bass, resembling a holdout tune from the Laid period of James. It lurks and rolls, ad infinitum, which in the context of the band's tapestried atmosphere, makes for a rewarding listen.

​Boasting no distinct pivots from verses to chorus, the Drowners instead plows right through. There’s a remarkable density to that mantra, a workingman’s temperament upon a decidedly non shop-pail record. The fact that they’re crafting this music “for nice people” sugarcoats the cost of that inclusivity. In truth, you’re either happy to listen or you’re in the way. Or, you’re rocking a mullet. The evening world comes out to celebrate sardonic hair, too. 

Spotify

bandcamp

Tweet