Review Summary: You can't just build a new road.
Considering all that is learned through education, job knowledge, schoolyard drama, the 24/7 news cycle, graying yearbook pages and whatever else, it’s a miracle any box is left safe and sealed in the ol’ hippocampus. Anything that doesn’t matter or has lost meaning—they’re all shuffled away, softly fading into an indescribable haze, thereby making room for anything that could follow. It’s an inherently melancholic experience once one feels that natural exodus of younger days into the rearview, with the hands once held and the secrets kept close losing their definition, both inevitably lacking permanence but both causing those cheerful questions of self-worth and self-esteem that often follow in the wake of a dissolution. Such aftermaths are all too familiar to me, as well as the predictable pivots into the tried-and-trued spells of introspection, eventually walking away with a pocketful of affirmations to smile, boldly forge forward, and use that which hurt to build a foundation. I’ve been chipping away at a ‘foundation’ long enough, and it can be hard to tell if the groundwork is starting or I’ve made a deeper hole.
That is a subject matter not often suited for positive pastures, but by golly, Invalids will drag it there with their soothing interpretation of math rock jams. While consistently volatile in their technicality, the New Jersey project has relished in their ability to cloak abrasive virtuosity with gentle textures, twinkling chords and playful vocal interplay. Four years after their first release as a full band and not a one-man crew, the gang has emerged with something unbelievable: a beautiful tour of captivating musicianship buoyed by fantastic singing and achingly introspective lyrics, all bundled under a serene atmosphere. Invalids’ third effort is doubtlessly their greatest thus far and one of the must-hear outings of the year.
The more straightforward route of
Fulfillment has been tweaked to accompany this more emotional direction. Ambiguity is minimized and replaced with genuine prose that doesn’t hide its truth in the same manner, and the overarching atmosphere of the record reflects this; the wistfulness of
Strengths is at the forefront, with every instrument adroitly restrained to let the vocals breathe and deliver the personal anecdotes lining each tune. The guitars glide gracefully through passages that alter time signatures on a whim, inspiring awe in their shimmering tones and frantic, albeit controlled outbursts of unpredictable riffs. There’s an entrancing calm in the winding interiors of
Permanence due to its tranquil ambiance, allowing it to obtain a rosy sheen of nostalgia that airy, roomy arrangements tend to invite in, decorating notes in the colors of summers from several seasons ago. Those aforementioned vocals are perhaps Invalids’ most distinct feature; all members are included in the singing department, frequently branching out in separate sections that duel with the central vocal melody, only to ultimately intertwine and create resonating harmonies that bring life to the forlorn writing. As much as the group’s proclivity for restraint can generate moods on the wrong side of negative emotions, the creativity of the arrangements—how the vocals leap around each other, their carefree inflection match the bouncing bass and unconventional guitar riffs—manage to offset lurking
feels like a proper pop album, juxtaposing grief with uplifting timbres.
These sonic contrasts define the duration of
Permanence, with songs consistently oscillating between the looser jam-oriented vibe that dominated the 2018 EP and the subtle emotional tinges of the project’s earlier work. There’s an artful precision in meshing these traits; the pure math-to-the-max aptitude of the collective’s members can provide a suitably varied base for a track, providing endless intrigue in of themselves with their impressive interplay and ability to seamlessly shift from one motif to another, but how they are structured to guide the listener to climaxes and support the vocal hooks is the true splendor to discover. Early highlight “Tethered” is an enchanting exhibition of this ebb and flow, bursting out of the gates with pure math bombast until gradually stripping back its aggression, relying on delicate strumming and understated drumming to introduce a powerful harmony that feeds off the hopeless romanticism of the lyrics. The band then engineers a build-up from this point, interweaving backing vocals and four-part harmonies, finally belting out the conclusion as the instrumental assault slows its pace. Similarly, the middle portion of “Let It Be Said” uses an addicting bass groove to clear out space and introduce quiet tenor singing, slowly reintroducing the gorgeous melodic tones of the guitars to support the climactic synchronization of the band’s voices, constructing an incredibly smooth, potent harmony that punctuates every phrase. Plenty of other carefully calculated crescendos can be found, ranging from the desperation of the shouts in “Pareidolia” and its hectic guitar assault to the delicately somber closing of “Theme for an Inescapable Calamity,” each showcasing Invalids’ commendable ability to make their work recognizable from song to song.
Courtesy of a dreamlike production that provides ample clarity to the quartet’s individual contributions, Invalids’ latest possesses an amazing sense of cohesion from piece to piece—a sizeable benefit to the full-album experienced, which itself is buttressed by the domineering theme of relationships and sensations both long-lasting and temporary. The songs act as individual episodes to the past lives a person can lead—a life together with a significant other, the life after, a life with someone else, and so on. The vocals excel particularly in this regard; they carefully follow the natural peaks and valleys of
Permanence, adjusting when needed to fit the narrative of a song. As “Exit 18” maneuvers from the despair of a break-up to its eventual acceptance, Pete Davis & co. leap out of the gates with harmonies galore, every vocal line grounded by a deliciously summery riff, then rising to a pinnacle with rare harsh inflections once the finale kicks up the intensity. Despite the chaos in the background, there’s a charming simplicity to what Davis pens, opening up a portal to a moment in time that seems ripped from a reality close to home.
Never gonna get used to the volume of the echoes
How the halls can seem so crowded now with nobody else inside
(we're almost back, we're almost through)
Though we still don't recognize,
Though we tell each other otherwise,
In the end there is so often permanence in our goodbyes
(we're almost through, come back through)
Whatever Invalids express, it is made relevant to the listener themselves rather than something beyond their empirical reference, both with regards to the applicability of the story being told and the sincerity of the singing performances. Davis, who leads the charge, brings a charming second tenor range to the table, containing the strength required to confidently command a refrain while inserting a subtle emo whine to adorn the prose. The rest of the band behind him covers the full vocal spectrum, granting the many harmonies and divergent singing passages to display variety and powerfully merge when needed. At the same time, they can recede and let the emotion speak for itself, such as the fading conclusion to “Theme for an Inescapable Calamity”:
Hoped in the end it would matter what we said
But meaning only matters if you mean it
The last thing we said sounded sadder in my head
Did you mean it?
In a genre typically defined by its penchant for detached technicality, Invalids make their material
matter rather than relegate it to exercises in explosive musicianship. The songwriting demonstrated here belies the young existence of the band; the maturity in how the group writes their sprawling math rockers without losing the plot is awesome to witness. The incredible level of chemistry between the guitars, the reverberating hum of the bass, and the percussion performance—the pulse of the band that escorts it through every wild escapade, playing to a tune’s strengths or claiming it for its own—is a thrilling spectacle. There’s a touching beauty to Invalids’ portrayal of nostalgic-infused tales of heartbreak, separations and lost connections, all of it expressed in laser-beam harmonies that aim for ‘uplifting’ in a subject matter daring to sink the whole ship. I’m all too aware of how it can do just that, bringing about pesky inquiries that painful aftermaths encourage. I’ve been chipping away at a ‘foundation’ long enough to try to mend and move past those questions, and sometimes it truly can be hard to tell if the groundwork is starting or I’ve made a deeper hole. But that’s just the process of improvement many others go through; there’s only a commitment to forward motion and eventual peace to fall back on.
Permanence is a delicate, triumphant, comforting, and achingly universal journey through things that happened but couldn’t last, with every anecdote staged under impeccable songwriting and superb virtuosity. This is the encapsulation of the shuffling-away of memories—the inherently reflective task of growing away from past things, but keeping hope close at hand.
