Otherworldly shoegaze by suburban four-piece Soars feels just as haunting live as it does on their debut. Re-imagining the underpinnings of lo-fi pop, Soars’ perfectly gloomy anthems pair scratchy synth with melancholy, resulting in a sound that is simultaneously felt and heard. Half heart, half sensation, the vapid space between each note fosters longing for the next ethereal chord or riff. Nearly hush-hush vocals echo alongside reverb that shifts, sinks, and soars. It would be impossible not to think of terms like dark wave or psych pop when listening to their LP. Comparable but completely different, Soars sound settles beyond the genre’s limits, resulting in eight tracks of deliberative exploration that pushes past familiar and embarks on something further, something unpredictable, fresh, and new. Released on La Société Expéditionnaire, Soars is a transcendent full-length from oscillating intro to end.
With a quick thump and crisp clicks, “The Sun Breaks In Every Way But One” sounds out with laidback surf-like riffs and coolly calm but vibrant vocals. A relatively upbeat track, Soars first open’s the album with optimism buried beneath a weathered awareness that accompanies lessons often learned by disillusionment, loss, or pain. “Throw Yourself Apart” is rhythmically hypnotic. Washed out vocals settle above a swirl of guitar mechanical buzzed out beats. Previously released as a single, “Throw Yourself Apart” is an easy favorite and a perfect snapshot of Soars at their best. Ending in full-out distortion, this track’s final seconds defy all things sentimental, leaving listeners fumbling for afterthoughts outside the jurisdiction of its deliberately messy outro. The lengthy and dirge-like “Escape On High” gives way to “Ditches” a moody yet well-orchestrated pop ballad that ripens and blooms in its latter half, fading out atmospheric and memorable. “Ditches” unfolds like Chairlift’s “Territory” only with more emotive diligence, evident in its chorus and caustic yet symphonic swell. The psyched out start of “Figurehead” is a well-fashioned downer in comparison to the album’s start. Far from cheerful, “Figurehead” is brooding and brilliantly dark, save for its shining guitar riffs. Synthy interludes in “Young Adult” bring to mind Numan’s Pleasure Principle while the album’s final track “Monolith” sweeps in with nearly tribal backbeats that ease into mournful chords and vocals well worth the song’s namesake. A gorgeously somber debut, Soars does more than impress.
Soars’ self-titled album will be officially available tomorrow Oct. 5, but it looks like you can order it via La Société Expéditionnaire if you’d like right now.
– Dianca Potts