The Pianos Become The Teeth that brought us 2010’s ‘Old Pride’, or the following year’s ‘The Lack Long After’ is all but dead. ‘Keep You’ never sees Kyle Durfey’s vocal ferocity move above a cracked and shattered croon – far removed from the visceral screams that led the atmosphere on their earlier material. The ten tracks instead continue where last year’s devastatingly beautiful ‘Hiding’ set off, waving goodbye to the heavy in place of Durfey’s emotive lyrics delivered by a pained voice.
With that, ‘Keep You’ is a harrowing experience. Ultimately the sound is more solemn – a sound which mirrors the often self-deprecating lyrics sitting heavily amongst the otherworldly instrumentation. The steady drum patterns and ethereal guitar work forms a truly immersive soundscape, sparingly interrupted by cataclysmic riffs that create an almost apocalyptic quality.
This bleakness defines the record throughout. Although an element thereof has existed throughout their back catalogue – see the dense spoken word moments on ‘Old Pride’ or the drawn out ‘I’ll Get By’ closer on ‘The Lack Long After’ – it has never been more exposed than on ‘Keep You’. Durfey sounds more tempered, almost at ease with the melancholy, while the production value maintains this broken sense of acceptance.
‘Ripple Water Shine’ opens the record with a deliberate anti-climax, building up to a moment that could see the guitars explode into hardcore riffs and Durfey launch into his previously trademarked screams, yet does not. Even for those who have carefully followed their sound, ‘Keep You’ lays the new Pianos Become The Teeth firmly on the table. There’s no pretence. By the opening moments of ‘April’, any preconceptions are lost.
The records intensity instead is delivered through its austerity. Crescendos are dark and looming such as on lead single ‘Repine’, or on the seven minute long closer ‘Say Nothing’. ‘Enamour Me’ and ‘Traces’ are catastrophically heart-breaking – on the latter Durfey sounds as exhausted by it all as he details in his lyrics, culminating in a sudden end.
‘Keep You’ sees Pianos Become The Teeth at their most emotional, yet equally – and perhaps more disturbing – their most numb. There is sheer beauty in the music’s fatigue. By removing the overt apexes, the record finds more to say in its delicacies. In turn, the comparably stormy moments prove the most emotive of all. It’s impossible not to feel every word, to not be drawn into Pianos Become The Teeth’s bleak and weary world. It’s certainly not uplifting, but beauty and brilliance don’t have to be.
BEN TIPPLE