Review Summary: Poingnancy, frustration and regret in its purest form
I tend to find that singer-songwriters generally produce some of the most affecting music out there. There's something about the stripped-down, simplistic approach of vocals over a single guitar line that evokes a profound feeling of genuine emotion, not feigned in the slightest. The lack of production and instruments allows for the artist to convey emotion on a much more personal level. Kristian Matsson's project The Tallest Man on Earth is a great example of this. Matsson's earlier work was characterized by incredibly simplistic arrangements with minimal production. Despite the minimalistic approach, the music was moving beyond belief. After familiarizing myself with almost all the music from The Tallest Man on Earth, I confidently came to the conclusion that I would most likely never hear music which emotionally connected with me quite as much as The Tallest Man on Earth did. I continued to believe this for quite a long time. That was, however, until I heard the solo project of Trophy Eyes' vocalist John Floreani, called
Little Brother.
Upon first listen,
Terrace doesn't seem like anything special. The lyrical concepts seem cliche, the underproduced guitar is annoying, and the vocals are grating. Dismissing the EP after hastily coming to this conclusion would be doing it an enormous disservice, though, for the beauty of
Terrace lies within its nuances. After a few attentive listens, it will become apparent that Floreani isn't writing his lyrics just for the sake of having something to sing over the guitar. His lyrics are touching and relatable and, while still being somewhat metaphorical, have a clear decisive meaning. Whether it be the heartbreaking story told in "Chloe," or the introspective allegories of "Pathetic," the lyrics seldom fail to be the highlight of the music. Floreani's vocals compliment both the lyrics and the music perfectly. His singing is beautifully imperfect, and his yells (I call them yells because I'm not sure what else I could call them) are brimming with frustration and sorrow.
The guitar on
Terrace match the rest of the EP flawlessly in terms of its imperfect, abrasive sound. The guitar lines are rarely complex, usually consisting of a repeating chord progression. This is, by no means, a bad characteristic. The chords convey emotion remarkably well, and the repetition allows for the attention to be drawn to the vocals. Occasionally, the guitar will play a more complex melody, like the one played in the intro of "Moving Day." These melodies are memorable, and they fit the music perfectly. However, sometimes the guitar parts are more annoying than they are enjoyable, which is unfortunately the case with "Elephant." This is the shortest song on the EP, though, so it's a forgivable fault. Floreani more often than not completely disregards dynamics and strums chords as forcefully as he can, augmenting the feeling of distress and frustration created by the powerful vocals and despondent lyrical themes. The guitar on
Terrace, while not being anything new or musically impressive, coincides perfectly with the emotions present on the EP.
Sorrow is undoubtedly one of the strongest human emotions. We go to extreme measures to avoid it, we do our best to distance ourselves from it, and when we're faced with it, it can be difficult to cope with. Little Brother's sole EP
Terrace is essentially a sonic representation of sorrow and regret. It tells stories of love and loss, of frustration and poignancy. It discusses topics that trouble us and gives us something to relate to. Through the implementation of beautiful guitar lines, bare-bones production, and powerful vocals, it accurately describes just how strong sadness and frustration can be. All in all,
Terrace beautifully conveys the emotions that motivated John Floreani to write it.
