The Drums
Encyclopedia

LA RECENSIONE

If you're an openly gay person with a passion for synth-pop, the Beach Boys, Morrissey, and if you've been part of the Christian indie scene, it's just a step to fall into kitsch.

Jonny Pierce and Jacob Graham have such profiles and are indeed quite kitsch, both in their approach to music and in their approach to their homosexuality, in their homosexually approach to music, and their musically approach to homosexuality. Face of God is an emblematic episode of the album in this sense: monotonous surging guitar, all-downbeat baritone, falsetto choirs, abundant choruses, and the usual sodomite guilt of a renegade Christian, always bearing on their shoulders the heavy burden of a strict religious upbringing. Tragically tempted and driven to a desperate monologue, like a Bandini, a Morrissey (again).

The Drums haven't lost the melodic and carefree verve of their debut - the one with Obama I wanna go surfing - but Pierce continues to project his falsettos onto the slightly unsettling backgrounds that characterized Portamento and the pseudo-darkwave shift, and he does so with renewed maturity and undeniable polish. Thus, Magic Mountain opens with synth choirs, nervous danceability, hysterical and flamboyant vocals, false endings, and sudden bursts with its intricate structure; I Can't Pretend continues, poised and irresistibly catchy with its very '80s pop anthem, while I Hope Time Doesn't Change Him, balancing between elegant guitar work, the rudeness of claps, and an in-your-face gaiety, begs to be skipped mercilessly. But Kiss Me Again is one of The Drums' best choruses, the vocal intertwining with slightly silly but very carefree falsettos at the end is a study in sunny and alternative pop, the baritone continues to perform the task that was the success of tracks like What You Were in Portamento, and in general, Pierce - who also seems to be becoming a singer, it appears from recent performances - gives the impression that being desperate and pathetic is possible, but always with style and attitude. Have I already said Morrissey? Let Me follows the script and takes its risks with the synth bass - never overwhelming, never plastic, always digestible - and overdoes the surf in the guitar refrain. There Is Nothing Left compendiously encompasses all of this and the rest of their career, but it does so to the best of their abilities, pushing Pierce's inspiration and melodic vocation towards the peak of the refrain, effortlessly fitting their entire repertoire, their pop encyclopedia for pale kids on the beach, into the (almost) perfect song form.

The album I didn't expect from The Drums. In the sense that I really didn't expect a third album from The Drums, a bit stuck in the two-thousand-tens, a bit of a next-big-thing that seemed to deflate in no time, like the hipstermania in Italy. Yet they persevere, increasingly ignored, increasingly criticized, but always very, very pleasant.