Album Review: American Football - Self-Titled (LP3)
American Football might be the textbook example of youthful rebellion music; their debut self-titled record in 1999 is the epitome of Midwest emo, full to the brim of teenage angst and melancholy to the point where it should have become insufferable very fast. Even if Mike Kinsella's whiny voice could easily become grating, the sheer beauty of the guitars and horns, not to mention the subtle influence of math rock's emphasis on technical ability, graced their sound with a maturity beyond their years. But what does a young artist do afterwards, as teenage anxieties begin to fade and the magic of youth is drained by the drudges of adult life?
For American Football at least, the answer was simple: break up, and leave that debut album as an immaculately preserved time capsule. That is, until 2016, when they reformed to release a long-overdue sophomore album that was a significant step down in terms of songwriting quality. Now on their third album in two decades, however, the band has finally been able to recapture some of that adolescent creativity, to the extent that this album is a worthy successor to their debut, and perhaps even more profound.
The most immediately noticeable improvement is in Kinsella's voice; gone is the immature, annoying crooning, smoothed out by age into a melodious lilt that still sounds intimate in its empathy. Twenty years after their debut, however, his uncertainty comes not from any doubts about the future, but instead from the nagging sense that those youthful ideals were misplaced, or else that he has yet to fully mature: "I blamed my father in my youth/Now as a father, I blame the booze". A poetic grasp on the language of anxiety has always been a clear asset for the band, the opener Silhouettes and its painful description of a stagnant relationship as "Oh, the muscle memory/It must take to stay close to me" demonstrating that this talent has not escaped them yet.
This song also makes clear early on the album's renewed fascination with post-rock; a nebulous affair present before yet laid bare in this track's decision to open with a single note on the vibraphone, slowly growing in complexity as it is joined by a marimba, flutes, a subtle bass lick, and finally a swelling of ambient guitar playing as the vocals enter. Gone for the most part are the subdued, complex guitar lines, with focus instead placed on simpler melodies that add colour to eerie yet familiar landscapes of sound. Despite the large ensembles of instruments often present, the record never feels too overwhelming, with Kinsella's voice blending beautifully into the nostalgic relaxation of cuts like Every Wave to Ever Rise and Doom in Full Bloom.
Another new development for American Football is the addition of featured vocalists, largely to harmonize with or echo Kinsella's words while occasionally being given room to espouse their own melancholy. The clear standout is Hayley Williams of Paramore on Uncomfortably Numb, revitalized from the success of 2017's After Laughter yet clearly still reeling from her own personal troubles: "Now whenever I try to be clear with you/I only end up feeling see-through/I've tried, but you've won/Comatose, like father like son". Outside voices do help break up the monotony somewhat, but as the record goes on the ethereal ambiance hanging over everything clouds the album's ability to surprise the listener, a problem not helped by the relatively lackluster instrumentals on Mine to Miss and Life Support.
Still, the band never stops delivering powerful and poignant words, even as the record begins to lose itself in a mire of reverb and squeaky-clean production. Kinsella is remarkably adept at personifying his emotional and mental confusion, describing his mind as first an unmade bed, and then an empty one, on Mine to Miss and quipping "I'm fluent in subtlety/I can defuse most anything, but you make my head explode" on I Can't Feel You as Rachel Goswell croons in the background. Heir Apparent is similarly ripe with whimsical quotables ("All of your best attributes/Looked better on me than they ever did on you"), yet marks another instance where the band takes pains to remind the listener of just how much time has passed since their quaint debut: "I'm sorry for aging/Growing more and more disinterested in celebrity and politic"
The most powerful art always has its roots in untempered emotion, yet too often the fiery passion that propels musicians to new heights is fleeting, as wounds fade and people are separated from their problems by the inevitable progression of time. American Football had the sense to preserve what they had made by isolating their debut album for almost two decades, and at last their long-awaited return has capitalized on their potential, in a record that rekindles the best parts of their style while showing the growth and maturity all artists should strive for. That such a melancholic album is so enjoyable a listen is proof that their style is still as fresh and brilliant as it was on that angst-ridden inception from so long ago.
8/10
Favourite Tracks: Silhouettes, Uncomfortably Numb, Doom in Full Bloom
https://open.spotify.com/album/7ki5b310cwDVVJBevBLwdw?si=eaoWngz9TLSPqMoqTZlDUA