by Mick Reed
It’s pretty easy to be cynical in 2020. You’re one year older, and nothing much has changed for you. You’re at the same job, working for the same pay, and while the company is posting record profits, there are rumors going around that your employer is going to roll back their matching contributions to your 401K. You can barely afford decent clothes, and food prices keep going up, and now you have to worry about self-funding your entire retirement? If this is where you were going to end up in your 30s, in an overpriced one-bedroom apartment that you share with another human, and another, smaller, dumber lifeform you casually refer to as your “fur-child,” it makes you wonder why you even bothered going through all the trouble of college, internships, and joint-expense accounts? When these crises percolate to the surface, there really isn’t a satisfying answer to be found in examining them. This is what you could do for yourself, given the range of available options, and sometimes that realization is enough to make you cry… constantly. This is the world we live in, and if you’re in Chicago (like me), you have a long cold winter to allow these thoughts to bounce around your brain and savage your ego as if it were Millhouse caught in a particularly vicious game of schoolyard dodge-ball. Thankfully, there are some people who still believe in love and its ability to transform one’s life and are willing to find this power even in the minor recesses of the mundane. Enter Chicago indie rockers, Impulsive Hearts.
Impulsive Hearts are romantics to the core. If their name and the title of the latest LP Cry All the Time didn’t give up the sweetheart ghost, then the opening riffs of opener “Melody” should do the trick. The warm, bath of desire that these poppy pulses conjure are is like hot broth for the soul, whetting the appetite for the savory melody and Fallon McDermott’s lush saxophone accompaniments. It’s an excellent way to start the album, but the more optimistic lyrical content contrasts hard with the lyrics of later tracks. While “Melody” appears to be about the beginning, “Boxing Day” is literally about telling someone to pack up their shit because the two of you are through. “Boxing” has a similar jangly clip and bright tone to “Melody,” but introduces a sober, restrained quiver that should be extremely familiar to fans of Sharron Von Etten. “Exodus Evening Company” is similarly subdued at its outset but slowly, and satisfyingly, builds towards its middle point with rising hope and longing, only to wind down again to a low simmer after its crescendo.
“Telephone Girl” has a shading of gospel influence giving a quasi-spiritual dimension to its tale of sentimentality that transcends trans-continental separations and cements in my mind the wholesome urban Americana that informs the album’s quieter moments. The best grooves by far can be found amongst the twisting, sand-kicking surf riffs and shambling beet of “Fool” and the delightfully dry and sugary indie waltz “Alien” with its stargazing Julia Holter-esque melody. The latter of which was also on their me too EP from last year, and thankfully reappears here. I can’t get enough of that track, and I doubt you will either.
Cry All the Time won’t solve any of your problems, but it will at least make you feel less lonely in your struggle. A sunny, syrupy serving of warm sonic crunch that will remind you of why you deserve a better life, while you work through the Sisyphean climb of modern living. As an added pinch of karma to every transaction, a portion of each purchase of each copy of Cry all the Time will be donated to Girls Rock Chicago, a volunteer-run summer camp that provides music education programs for girls and transgender and gender expansive youth. Paying it forward has never sounded so good!