by Chris Coplan (@CCoplan)
Lately, I've been playing a lot of No Man's Sky. More than having a dope frigate to captain, the game's best feature is the procedurally-generated planets, promising opportunities to explore some 18 quintillion planets. Only, the further you fly out, the more you notice there's only so much deviation in terms of climate, names, and flora/fauna, and patterns cascade out perpetually into the endlessly churning universe. Indie rock has the same issue — or is that an opportunity? If everyone’s working with the same parts, energies, ideas, the rub becomes finding ways to be as personal as possible as a means of fostering connection, novelty, etc. Montreal's own Feeling Figures are experts at this very "game," and the recently released Everything Around You is a prime example of what genre means and how it "operates" in 2024.
Maybe it helps that this is, technically speaking, Feeling Figures' first album, as they recorded it prior to November 2023's generally great Migration Magic. As such, the eleven track LP is a tight, fully distilled "representation of their boundless, idiosyncratic approach to guitar-based music," and one that benefited from being sat on a touch longer. Even that feels like it doesn't fully get at what makes Everything Around You so interesting. For one, it's the way they regard the lively interplay between genres. "Co-Operator" splits the difference between blown-out '60s garage, extra grimy grunge, and stoned-but-spirited rock. "Imagine Nations," meanwhile, somehow begins as this kind of mutant ambient jam before revolting against itself to become an uber fuzzy Iron Maiden epic. Even "Space Burial," as direct a garage burner as anything, has this pseudo-Stereolab-ian quality that makes all the difference.
What these tracks (and truly the LP proper) share is an informal but fully motivated spirit. Everything is up for grabs, but they blend and merge with a gravitas and passion that still honors these respective ideas. It’s a deeply specific relationship by the band to their influences, which they express with a mix of carefree joy and deep, abiding love that makes their sonic chopped cheese feel more alive with a singular energy and intent. You can see the same sentiments in the way they structure specific songs. "The Falcon," for instance, has a kind of syncopation going on, and the movement and relationship between the music and vocals undulates in a way that feels slightly jarring but always enthusiastic. On the grander end, we get the seven-minute closer "Social Anatomy." It's appropriately grandiose in its ideas and execution, and that kind of bravado captures Feeling Figures' kinetic force. It also feels fully alive, shifting toward its fiery ending in a way that feels like some psychedelic dragon driving across the sky (and not just because it's even more Maiden with a dash of Sleep and Osees).
The band aren't just wildly inventive in their songwriting — they approach everything with the same blend of solid craftsmanship and free-wheeling exploration. A proper mix of speeds and approaches pull us in as to truly know this foursome through their own terms and at their own pace. To delve deep into these songs is to see their thoughts and feelings emerge through big, twisting jams that hum with deep humanity. Of course, if you really want to know Feeling Figures, you have to go deeper than influences and song techniques. That means dissecting the "personalities" as exemplified by the performances of singer-guitarists Kay Moon and Zakary Slax (ample, unyielding praise/love to bassist Joe Chamandy and drummer Thomas Molander). On "Doors Wide Open," Moon's dreamier vocals manage to both extend the retro garage vibes while off-setting them with pop magic that's beguiling and subtle. Meanwhile, on the aforementioned "Social Anatomy," Slax blurs Mick Jagger and Lou Reed into something wholly novel, a voice of both chaos and focus amid that slow-building rock monster.
Dueling vocalists ain't new, but Moon and Slax are great because they stand out enough individually even as they exude the same manic joy, robust charisma, and shapeshifting qualities tailored to such robust genre blending. It's a dynamic best represented with "Swimming," where their harmonies dip and dive in a way that they foster as much peace as tension. It's a function only of this duo, and another way the small touches/details provide so much warmth and humanity as the band delve into genres with a hunger and vision that shines brighter with every new emotion and idea revealed.
Still, we can't truly know the persons (and, by extension, their musical exploration) without tapping into their personal politics. In the case of Feeling Figures, the political is personal as the LP explores the "inner turmoil and deep-seated desires for change at the entangled axis of individual and social transformation." It's not as complicated as it sounds — tracks like "Reality Strikes" and "We Not the You" really define the core of this record's thematic insights. The former (aside from being properly rollicking) features the line, "When hope turns to despair/you make me want to wash my hands." I’ve read that as a call to action and fully emphasizing the humanity in these weird/dark times. The latter's just as massively human, and a touch "hippy-dippy" as my dad would've said ("It's time to focus on the things that are good and are green").
There's threads like this album-wide, but these two cuts exemplify how the band capture themselves and reflect it in their music, and how they further a novel approach to genre in exploring politics (i.e., it’s about a grassroots approach and sustained involvement). Liking various genres doesn't make you this way politically (or does it?!), but it certainly gets at their blend of curiosity, humanity, and joy that seems to favor one perspective over another. Plus, these are songs that understand past/present and context galore to present something massively real and textured.
At the end of the day, that's exactly what defines Everything Around You: it’s a very real record. Is it as familiar as it is exciting and novel? Yes, because it embraces all things with gusto. Is it more garage or indie? Yes and no — it's only interested in big, ear-grabbing displays to shock and uplift. Does it respect genre? Yes because limits are vital groundwork but also no because they're still made to be vigorously blasted apart. Everything Around You embraces its very title, and it shows you that with love and creativity, the sky's truly the limit.