by Andy Ciardella (@worstsumo)
Stumble into the right corner of indie music Twitter and you’re guaranteed to find a few self-described “varkheads.” Who are they exactly? They’re the devoted fans of Iowa City-based singer-songwriter Pictoria Vark, born Victoria Park. Sure, this title may be a bit of a tease at stan culture and the many factions of fans surrounding popular artists, but there’s no denying the cult status Park has grown over the past few years. A status so remarkable, it captured the attention of acclaimed independent label Get Better Records, who chose to release Pictoria Vark’s debut LP The Parts I Dread. On it, she does nothing but deliver one of the best indie rock debuts of the year.
One of the most noticeably unique characteristics of the songs here is how well the bass guitar plays into the arrangements. Seeing as Park served as a touring bassist for acts like Squirrel Flower and Pinkshift, it makes sense that her songwriting weapon of choice is something she’s weiled on stage for quite some time. The way the bass guides the songs here is unlike any other rock release out there right now. It strikes the perfect balance between the rhythmic accompaniment of a guitar as well as filling out the low end of the tracks. It completely avoids the two opposite ends of the ignorant bass playing spectrum—on one end are bassists who copy the guitar parts adding little to no flavor, and on the other end are bassists who are flashy and too technical for their own good. Park’s bass parts have so much character yet never try to take away from the song's beauty. This is clear on the second track and second single from the record “Wyoming.” The roles the bass play shift throughout the track, playing an almost guitar-riff like melodic line in the verse while switching to a more conventional bass role in the chorus. “Bloodline II” functions similarly, opening with a catchy and tonally rich bassline, while perfectly backing up the lone lead vocal once the refrain comes around. This ability to be super dynamic in instrumentation rubs off positively on other parts of the record.
It’s remarkable how fantastic the production, performances, and mixing of the record is, especially given the conditions it was recorded under. In mid-pandemic circumstances, this record was remotely recorded by not only Park, but a whole backing band’s worth of members, including Gavin Caine (who also co-produced and mixed this record), Jason Ross (of Moon Sand Land), Lauren Black, and Michael Eliran. There’s not a second of music here where the listener can tell that this is the case. The performances here are so spot on they might as well have been done in one single live take. Some key sonic moments include the blistering guitar solo on the last minute of “I Can’t Bike,” the crowd vocals on “Good For,” and the satisfying-as-hell paper rips on “Wyoming.” Even though this record may be literal bedroom pop, it transcends the tag given how expansive its sound is.
What really makes the tracks on The Parts I Dread feel truly alive is the earnest lyricism and delivery. It’s clear Park is grappling with hard-to-swallow emotions and situations, but she never tackles them with unnecessary ease. She doesn’t dodge the things that have caused her pain, making it vulnerable yet powerful. This comes to a climax on album highlight “Demarest,” which is about a move out west from the east coast. An anxiety-ridden Park sings, “It’s not that I’m into punishment/I’m scared of change and I’m cognizant,” ending each chorus with, “More to live for than I know yet.” As unsettled as the emotions behind these lyrics seem, they’re grounded in well-constructed songs that let listeners experiencing similar feelings know that they’re not alone. This is furthered by “Friend Song,” which concludes the record on a quieter but no less potent note. Although relating friendship, loneliness, and the cityscape of New York together is a common trope (ex. LCD Soundsystem, St. Vincent) Park brings a freshness to it that seems wholly personal and devoid of cliches. Asking, “Do you still leave when it’s getting late?/Do you still feign your love for the ones you hate?” one can imagine her holding a pen writing swiftly on a piece of paper, waiting for these words to find the subject they're directed at.
The Parts I Dread feels like it achieves so much in only 32 minutes. Comparable to the debuts of songwriters like Phoebe Bridgers and Julien Baker, Pictoria Vark has not only begun her career with a unique voice, but the other musical chops that help forge long careers for artists. Varkhead-mania may soon be sweeping the nation.