Soft Kill
Canary
Yellow
(Cercle Social)
There are those times in High School and college, or thereabouts, where most of us start our search for how we want to be identified. Identity is important to us when we’re young, because we don’t know what we are. We’ve been told how to be by our authority figures, but at some point, we begin to question things and try to understand what type of person we want to be. It’s an exciting and dramatic time, because it feels lonely to search for meaning and direction and exciting, because there’s so much opportunity and discovery. Oftentimes, the music we develop a taste for becomes a tangible source of community. We begin to gravitate to others who like similar things. We change our look and adopt new personas to fit in with a new clique or scene. Sometimes it can go deep and it is all very serious and very important.
Now that I’m old, I am both mystified by it all, and I miss the promise of those days. I never really felt like I found a niche when I was young, because I really never wanted to fit in. I did desperately, but at the same time, was mostly content with being by myself. It was a time of being sad, because I was lonely, and yet never comfortable with others – especially in groups. I do, however, miss how fired up I would get when I ran across new music that I felt an affinity for. That felt like home. That spoke to me. That taught me. That helped me not feel so alone. Music still does these things for me. I still get energized when I run across music that fits into my narrow-ish tastes. However, most of those harken back to those earlier times. They are nostalgic, even if they are new and by younger artists.
Having said that, within the last few years, I have learned about Portland’s own Soft Kill. They are fantastic! They exude that perfect band for young discovery. At least that’s what I think and feel when I hear them. They write songs that remind me of “In-Between Days” Cure, that are a bit more “street,” yet which are genuinely sad and reflective, and yet incredibly catchy earworms that can fill one with energy and a real passion and angst.
Soft Kill’s latest offering is Canary Yellow. I originally got sucked into their energy with their previous proper LP, Dead Kids R.I.P. City, from 2020. Yes, they remind me of younger days, and I’m okay with that. I listened to Dead Kids a lot and reveled into those old angsty feelings. It reminded me how important those times were and thankful that most of those old anxieties became meaningless to me now. Don’t get me wrong. My anxieties are numerous – just different. Canary Yellow is very similar to the previous album with songs full of an energized sadness that are absolutely tuneful. I mean, this is a fun and enjoyable listen no matter what.
Songwriter, Tobias Grave, has a knack for catchy melodies. The pre-LP single “Magic Garden” with its acoustic strums and hummable guitar and keyboard melody should be heard by a wider audience, or the endlessly addictive tune that is “Rocks & Blows,” will creep into one’s head and stay there, in a good way. The piano anointed “Domino” is another favorite with its inherent drama that hints of the magnificent Stars at their best. The ballad, “The Line” sung by Ruth Radelet formerly of another long-time Portland stalwart, Chromatics, is a touching moment of loss and heartbreak, as well as sweet moment of variety. I love the police station free phone message that is “Joey,” which opens the album and provides the title, and the epic album closer, “Lake Shore Drive,” with its music box like piano melody crossed with a “Love in a Car”-esque high end guitar atmospherics, is dreamy and momentous.
The entire damn album passes by too quickly. Lucky for all of us, we can play it over and over again, which I will continue to do.
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