IN REVIEW: CHERISH - CROCHET

Hi all. Finally back to reviews by me... Send music shit to [ fosterhildingmusic@gmail.com ] or DM me on Instagram.

photos courtesy of Crochet.

I have another Vegas band to cover tonight. Crochet is an engine of musical nature driving us forward into an emo hell(a)scape of spiraling, not just math rock, but so much more, and a vivid intensity that could never be overstated. Cherish is no exception. From its first waning seconds, and clocking in at just around 18 minutes, it is full to the brim and blossoming with Zach's jittering guitars, Gavin's schizophrenic drumming, and an entourage of unbridled, poetic noise. Every second.

211 rocks in lullaby fashion on stuttering toms as we slowly curl into a welcoming despair, bells and screams and chaos abound. Jake slurs a spoken word passage as the guitars turn from wavering to bold and lead us to the hopes like the top of a mountain and the fresh air of being understood. The screaming and pulsing rhythm of the short, sweet, and final moments of this introduction give us something to hold onto for the remainder, to cherish.

My Russian doll forever snakes its way across jagged taps and signatures, Gavin swinging the ride and berating the kick. Abby whispers promises to us from far away as guitars turn for a moment to twinkling mouse squeaks and then obscured by muffled intentions. We speed up and scramble towards the present, the feeling of losing to time the promises you had made permeating every note. Gavin marches us into a blasting array of crushed noise and screams subdued. 

I split it in half just makes me love the vocal production so much. They're in this perfect spot where you can hear them clearly, yet know nothing of what they're saying. It's beautiful that way. Zach's guitar sits on an uneven axis like the rings of an indecisive planet that floats between rigidity and fluidity. A single note rings out harsher and more inviting than all the rest for a while as Jake and Abby clamber around it like an altar--a single, aching and painfully, powerfully evoking pyre of memory. It is in these moments of explosion, climax, and somehow release, that we feel most enraptured by Crochet. They force us into tension waiting for a breaking point and slap us in the face with it. "These are the amenities of heaven."

Gentle Guiding Hand is a master class in rhythm, Zach and Gavin skipping across different moods and time signatures in seconds and maintaining a constant, reliable, danceable pulse. The way that Jake and Abby's voices interact across this whole album is incredibly satisfying and strangely primal. It feels new, yet like it is reviving some ancient spoken tradition only now made manifest on record.

You Have Destroyed My Flower-Like Life distorts the pace of the album and basks us in momentary joy, or at least hope. Momentary. Soon the earth topples unto itself in a pedal of crashes and a cacophony of agonized voices. Then we recede back into the wonder, the sublime embrace of a few seconds of acoustic guitar and what I think is an accordion. 

Park Under The Tree remains, sits down in a whispering night, the echos of a duet playing nervously at its fingertips. 

Shadowplay is my favorite from this record, and if I may say, the absolute best. It feels like a return to their Birth Piece roots amidst an ocean of colorful exploration (which, don't get me wrong, I adore. This one just scratches an itch). Zach's guitar takes on a groovy southern drawl in the next parts as Gavin carries us along in his most simple beat on the record, which is still somehow so incredibly tight. We inch back into the darkness as faraway radios play forgotten programs and Jake fights for his life against unknowable forces. This ending is crushing. It feels like a ship rocking on the torrential sea only to be swept into its abyss.

Roman takes on Slint tonality to the nth degree before hidden melodies unveil their wings to us amongst the rabbling charge of notes. Speckled emoviolence drags us through to the end before a final anxious chord.

Worms carries an insurmountable jam, just rocking you forward, hands close to your ears to absorb every subtle note between moments of minimalist builds. The first climax we are granted is earthbending and what follows is indecipherable in its sporadic intensity. Then it ends, ambiguous and settling into a conclusion echoed from rooms away.

This is easily my favorite album of the year thus far. There is nothing like this new phase of Crochet, and I like it that way. Bridging the gap between extreme math rock à la Hella and the skramz super-movement, they are a necessary reprieve from the stagnant scene. Thanks, Crochet.

9.5/10

Stream Cherish.

-Foster

See Crochet live at Best Friends Fest on October 10-12th.