Football, etc. – ‘Audible’

By now you must know what to expect of the 90s emo resurgence. Over the last half a decade, juxtaposing shimmering guitar tones and braying vocals have become the alternative musician’s du jour, deftly replacing the dodgy eyeliner and floppy fringes of the late 00s. With ‘Audible’, Football, Etc. do little to reinvent the wheel, penning a tale of heartbreak and despair that’ll slot in nicely alongside their peers – though all the while hinting at something more.

Football, Etc. undoubtedly draw heavily from their influences. Jangly riffs that border on math-rock in their understated complexity, lyrics that hark back to failed relationships with a worrying amount of self-blame – all the core elements of revivalist emo are in place. Even their band name is inescapably close to that of genre kings American Football. That said, Football, Etc are not solely the sum of their forebears. Frontwoman Lindsay Minton’s reserved vocal in particular offers a beautiful respite from the tropes of the genre. Picking up the torch most recently held by the criminally underrated Now Now, it’s refreshing to hear a strong female vocal in a genre so often plagued by the whining of endless ‘friendzoned’ boys. Musically too, ‘Audible’ offers something fresh in its almost Californian surf-pop sway – a far cry from the band’s Texan roots. Indeed, Football, Etc’s ability to make an emo album feel like a Californian coastal road trip rather than an angsty teenage diary should be celebrated.

Dig deep enough into those Californian shores, and there are some real gems to be found. ‘Audible’ is bookended spectacularly, with opening track ‘Fair’ setting the tone with typically downtrodden lyrical content – “What do you see when you close your eyes… for the last time?” ponders Minton – though its execution is exhilarating, rather than depressing. Musically, closer ‘Return’ swells in an almost post-rock fashion, swathes of delayed tremolo creating a tremendously expansive footnote to the album. If Football, Etc. can find a way to harness these sporadic moments of euphoria, the next record will surely be the one that sees them breaking free of the confines of their genre.

“I had the worst year,” declares vocalist Lindsay Minton on ‘Red Zone’, and you don’t doubt her. Judging by the promise displayed here, the next one should be a lot better.

TOM CONNICK