On Get Weak, Glimmer take a left flank in the American shoegaze revival scene. Ethereal ambience is replaced with acoustic guitars. Droning fuzz is now a bright ‘90s alt riff. Breathy, whispered vocals now take center stage. And as the sounds of julie, Narrow Head, Trauma Ray, Nothing, and Modern Color continue to homogenize the American shoegaze sound, it’s interesting to see Glimmer lean into the melodies of the Foo Fighters and The Smashing Pumpkins, like they’re viewing ‘grungegaze’ with a brightly tinted lens. It’s through this newfound perspective—glistening with a shimmering pop-infused undertone—where Glimmer seeks to bridge the gap between grunge and pop, however lost it’s sound may feel.
Get Weak is in direct opposition to the Deftones-ness of their contemporaries, established not by their drop D power chords or chugging walls of noise but instead their pop rock sensibilities, by their ability to capture an optimism that’s lacking in the genre they reside in. In other words, they’re loud and fun—‘90’s revivalism embodies much of Get Weak, as its biggest concern is injecting a mainstream alternative rock sound into the American shoeegaze scene. At its best, Get Weak is exhilarating, pulsating with enough energy to have a festival off their feet.
Here, Glimmer expose themselves bare, lyrics detailing failed romances and the whirlpool of emotions that entail. On “When Everything Was Spring,” you can feel the dejection underneath washes of guitars fighting for the spotlight. “Getting worse everyday/Nothing’s safe,” Jeff Moore laments as the track’s frenetic anger quells into a slow reprise until breaking into one last burst of energy. “Dissolve” sees him lost in the mundane. Days could be weeks and Moore wouldn’t know; the murky guitars perfectly reflecting this dissasociated state.
But it’s tracks like “Sorrow Again” where Moore’s confessional lyricism reaches its peak. “Shallow reasons to live/Never nothing to give,” the track opens, guitars oscillating between an energetic howl and a quiet cry. Yet halfway through, it finds its stride and unfurls into lashes of slides and powerful downstrokes.
Despite it’s earnestness, Get Weak can’t help but stay within the already pre-established lines of their predecessors. And unfortunately, the band gets lost in the sounds they pull from. “This Good” opens with a Pixies’ “Where Is My Mind?” style riff, albeit slower and gradually building towards an explosive finale. Their influences loudly present themselves throughout tracks like “Slow Saturday” and “To Believe” that it leaves one wondering: What does Glimmer sound like? Who are they really? While not bad by any metric— “Slow Saturday” in particular being the beginning of Get Weak’s amazing four track finale—It’s difficult to ascribe Glimmer their own distinct identity when they too get lost in the style they’re aiming for.
Yet there are tracks on Get Weak that are entirely their own. Tracks like “Bloom” and “Get Weak” are shimmering ballads, perfectly visualizing the sun peaking over the clouds on a gloomy day. An acoustic guitar lays the foundation on the former, with fluttering guitars waning through a slow moving bass. The latter sees Moore at his most despondent. Intimate guitars quiver in the foreground, nervously warbling about until broken by twinkling ambience.
And just as the track motions into a slow lullaby, Glimmer switches bursts with an unexpected shot of adrenaline. It’s through this duality—constantly flirting with modern grungegaze and their penchant for ‘90’s melancholia—where Glimmer excels. It’s only when their influences shine brighter than themselves does the record start to fade.
Get Weak is available now.
