by John Glab (@glab.ii)
Over the early 2020s, the popular sound of indie rock has transferred from the jangly slacker sounds of the 2010s to alt country crooning. Some of the most popular indie artists like Greg Freeman or MJ Lenderman have progressed this formula, singing about lonesome countryside landscapes, cheap beers, and heartbreak over modern pastoral guitars. Since it is now so popular, and since country is a style of music that heavily draws on simple Americana origins, countless new indie bands have followed the trend. It feels as if many are just trying to ride the popularity towards any form of success, until it reaches critical mass.
The Boston-based Tiberius are a part of this wave with their newest album Troubadour. Though it has many of the hallmarks of alt-country, the band has been trying to add their own flair and conglomeration of influences to create something more unique instead of falling explicitly into the generalizations of the genre. Since around 2021, Tiberius has been developing their sound which front person Brendan Wright has described as “Farm Emo.” The band blends stirring emo swells with the lush, atmospheric hums of folk and country that stretch out like winding psychedelic passages on the prairie horizon.
This connection between the land and oneself is the main essence that led to the creation of Troubadour. During the album’s writing process, Wright had been going through what they described as something like an ego death, where they looked to their own connection with the land around them and the permanence of the trees that sculpted it, to get over this loss of identity from losing people in life. Most of the songs have lyrics about missing a partner from a previous relationship, but accepting that it’s gone and the things that need to be done to move on.
What results are some interesting songs that break from the established alt-country sound, playing with and infusing other elements. The track “Sag” has a very full sound with chorused arpeggios that build and release into something more mellow. The song weaves through so many ideas that it feels like even singular riffs alter between sounds and rhythms, but in a way that feels cohesive. As it progresses towards the middle, there’s a shoegaze squeal and even the faintest tinge of a chugging hardcore breakdown. “Felt” has a drunken melody that staggers then tears in droney blasts of fuzz before easing off in faint guitar rings at the end. “Redwood” is extremely brooding with dark grumbling tones bellowing throughout its extended runtime. It’s desolate in its want to be something else.
There are a few songs in the middle of the record that do feel more generalized like “It Has To Be True” and “Sitting,” which don’t branch out of the alt-country cliches enough to feel especially lasting. The intense, unrelenting vocal crooning can feel a little exhausting at points. Even with these moments, Troubadour shows Tiberius’ potential and willingness to experiment with the sounds that have been presented before them, and piece them together into something that doesn’t come out stale.