waveform* "Antarctica" Review
The combination of rage and hopelessness experienced through processing isolation is something that has become all too familiar over the past few years. The mental and emotional aftermath of mass physical separation is something everyone is still unpacking, and therein something that many are actively searching for a distraction from. Sometimes a distraction isn’t enough, and the only alternative is to address those uncomfortable thoughts and feelings, which is exactly what waveform* have done with their new record Antarctica. Instead of pretending these past few years didn’t exist, the Connecticut duo has decided to tackle the fallout head-on, and have created something truly remarkable in the process.
Antarctica opens with its first single “Lonely” - a gentle and mesmerizing introduction to a world inhabited by simultaneously everyone and no one, where the highlight of one’s day is an ounce of human connection shared over a telephone. It’s a moody start to an album, but one that is executed with incredible attention to detail.
This tender opening quickly gives way to tense and explosive album highlight “Firework”. The dichotomy of the intro’s acoustic guitars and dissonant samples repeating in the background could have been jarring if not for the distorted vocals serving as a glue to hold it all together. Eventually, this tension builds into a wall of fuzzed-out guitars, just to reign itself in and start the process over again. The second time this song reaches this explosive high point, it does not shy away, doubling down on the sudden burst of energy with a massive bridge before collapsing into controlled chaos and fading away. Title track “Antarctica” follows a similar trajectory, but with a much slower tempo, trading frustration for anguish. Although the pieces used to build this track are similar to the one before it, the end result still feels fresh and focused.
“Marijuana” follows immediately after, picking up the pace dramatically. Despite its energetic and upbeat instrumental, the lyrics delivered on this track paint a picture of someone who is coping with their pain by getting high, an action that they’ve grown to hate but partake in for a moment of relief. It’s an intense narrative to be told by a song with such few lyrics, but its potency cannot be dismissed.
“In My Drink” is a meditative and subdued exercise in beautiful melancholia, and proof that sometimes a truly remarkable song benefits from approaching with a “less is more” attitude. Much of the song is led by a single guitar and vocal, and when the rest of the band arrives, the song feels elevated without losing sight of where it came from. The restraint on display here is impressive, and leads to one of the finest moments on the entire record.
The back half of Antarctica is nearly as strong - songs such as “Ballroom” and “Ocean” feel familiar by this point, but are just as worthy of praise as the songs that preceded them in the track list. “Clarity” may be Antarctica’s highest point, and is the instance of waveform* playing with quiet-loud dynamics that contains the biggest payoff of the entire record. Everything gets tied together by somber and mournful closer “Orphan Child”, the verses in which resemble a hymn, but with a crushing lyrical weight that is not matched anywhere else in the album’s thirty-six minute runtime.
Ultimately, waveform* have taken those all-too-familiar feelings of isolation and crafted a truly stunning and cathartic record with Antarctica. While the album requires repeated listens, new layers reveal themselves each and every time, resulting in new reasons to love this collection of songs. From the darkest of places, waveform* have returned and truly created something special.
8/10
