I’m Glad It’s You
The Things I Never Say
(6131 Records)
A full minute and a half of an instrumental break opens The Things I Never Say, and it’s fitting in relation to the aptly titled release from I’m Glad It’s You. In reality, the things we never say get lost in the in betweens, the minuscule moments of life that can begin to overshadow everything. Thus is makes sense that there is a winding instrumental packed with introspection, littered with emotional bends and familiar sounds. I’m Glad It’s You feel safe, like something we can confide in, and that’s exactly what is littered across the record — an urgency to finally say what we never have.
Songs come and go rather quickly across this record, making sure to stick true to their punch and say what needs to be said. No abstracts, no lingering away from the path, just music packed with a humble honesty and a lo-fi feel. Guitars sound scratchy, a slight bit out of tune but that’s okay because it adds to the experience. This record is four people sick of the weight on their shoulders, picking up instruments and organically letting things play out. In that sense, songs like “Parking Tickets” feel like veterans of the industry reflecting on their youth, but in reality this band is four individuals reaching for the stars and soaring above them. The guitars are stacked like a brick wall, with the drums bouncing off of them in its own intricate pace, with the vocals crashing against the guitars and not being able to ride above them, but intertwine between them, becoming the mortar that solidifies everything.
The Things I Never Say is an intelligently crafted record, utilizing multiple dynamics to let songs stand out from the previous and the next. “Keepsake” is memorialized by the two-step drum pattern that takes over the stage, building into the song’s climactic discovery, “I’m not afraid to die, I just want to be something that you leave behind,” and then a quick second of breath before punching through a wall with the following progression. It’s moments like this scattered across the record that keep I’m Glad It’s You stuck in someones head, ingrained because of their clever songwriting and relatable lyrics.
Look, projects like this have been done so many times before, but like any healthy addiction each one has a new glimmer to keep us interested. It’s like the morning smell of coffee every morning, it’s an awakening to a new day that we cherish and sometimes think we need; it’s part of the routine of our lives. The Things I Never Say lingers with that same eye opening pulse, booming with catchy melodies and beautiful realizations; ones that we find ourselves tripping over every day. “Communion” rolls with a grandiose melody from the guitars and a hollow longing about remembering people that have exited our lives, but it is our own facade because we really do miss them.
The two closing songs “Time Capsule” and “Daydreams” are both the longest offerings across the record. The former is dark, looking for something past the final lamppost at the end of the street, walking away from everything with the latter realizing it’s the right choice, and that there is a way to continue on, even though we are shadowed by grief. The vocals here are the strongest they have been across the record, finally utilizing a raspy howl to put everything in their place, even if it is memories being buried in their own grave. The ending instrumental piece has the same tone as the opening one, a reflection on what we have never said and if we ever will say it, or already have by remaining silent.
Purchase The Things I Never Say here: Physical | Digital
