by Benji Heywood (@benjiheywood)
Fime’s Sweeter Memory is a rock album in the way rock albums rarely get made anymore, one that revels in its influences without succumbing to them. Like our own elusive attempts at recapturing the past – are you remembering the event itself or a retelling of it – Fime’s excellent new album subsumes the band’s influences – power pop, country, psychedelia, surf rock, emo, and punk – and then produces good songs which sound uniquely themselves.
Sweeter Memory is a summer album in the best way, a conduit to our collective remembrance of a time that maybe never was, of carefree crushes, easy buzzes, and a road trip that never ends. Aptly titled, the songs on the Los Angeles-based band’s debut album are sugary without being saccharine and tinged with the right amount of nostalgia. The hooks are generous, the tempos brisk, and the melodies enveloping.
Comprised of the members of Melina Duterte’s (aka Jay Som) backing band – Maxine Garcia, Beto Brakmo, Scott “Jeb” Leahy, and Eric Promani – Fime sound comfortable amorphously shifting between vibes without it ever sounding forced. The dialogue between band members is easygoing, like a long-distance phone call with a friend. The result is that each song has its own personality that feels lived-in. Still, there are some unifying traits.
Album opener “White Collar Gold” showcases Fime’s use of vocal harmonies and gang vocals. It’s a theme that happens throughout the album and gives the impression that while there may be a lead vocal on a song, most songs have a moment where we’re all invited to sing along. The guitars take a cue from the vocals; guitar harmonies are ubiquitous across the album’s breezy 36 minutes, often adding cathartic punctuation or a layer of fuzz that parallels the album’s ruminations on how we perceive ourselves and our past. Plus, Fime are very intentional. When they want to be anthemic – like on “This Morning, With Her” – they crush. When they want to be introspective – for example, on “Not for Nothing” – the revelations are clear-eyed.
While the album’s musicality is impressive, the real star is the band’s meticulous songwriting. To hear songs so fully formed and expertly executed on a debut album is frankly stunning. Perhaps Melina Duterte – who also produced the album -- has something to do with this. If other Duterte-produced albums are any indication – Julia Shapiro’s Zorked or Bachelor’s Doomin’ Sun – having the guidance of a producer and songwriter of Duterte’s class only helps.
But there’s obvious songwriting talent in the band, too. “Born 2 Love” is the soundtrack of the summer, even if it was released as a single last year. As the album’s best banger, “Born 2 Love” encapsulates what summer love feels like – “let’s see what happens with our clothes off” coos co-singer Maxine Garcia. Dovetailing a catchy guitar/synth line with a festival-ready chorus, Fime evoke a kind of effervescent sadness, the kind those of us who’ve been around a few more summers recognize as inevitable and those a bit younger suspect they can outrun.
Despite the feeling of positive abandon in “Born 2 Love,” Sweeter Memory is more often a collection of stories where the consequences are just around the corner. On the album’s manic highlight “Annulment,” the protagonists notes that “all these things we do slowly become habits.” The countrified “Wind at the Top of the Hill” feels like a good time but ends with a last call singalong: “I can’t feel nothing at all” – effectively emphasizing the same refrain from earlier burner “Yukon Cowboy.” The album’s stirring closer, “Sweeter Memory” – a would-be perfect fit on the juke box at Lynch’s Bang Bang Bar – ends with an epic trumpet coda, but not before the band sings in three-part harmony, “I’ll be gone, so thank you all for coming.” It’s like the band knows how to appreciate a party but is perpetually worried about who’s picking up the bill. It’s this sticking point the band returns to again and again: how do we enjoy anything if we know it’s all about to change?
The late Denis Johnson wrote in the posthumous short story “Doppelganger, Poltergeist” that when the past leaves, “its remnants (are) mostly fictions.” On Sweeter Memory, Fime seem to agree, playing on the tension inherent to temporality, between what was, what is, and ultimately, what is important, creating a memorable debut album in the process. Sweeter Memory – despite its at times forlorn worldview about the inevitableness of entropy – recognizes the dangers of romanticizing what came before and advocates for celebrating the now. By indulging in the moment, we can find fulfillment in life’s temporality. Or as Fime put it, “this stroll is all we have – walk slowly.”