by Katie Stollmack (@katiestollmack)
The heirs to the country-infused indie pop crown are back. After a three-year hiatus, Ratboys are jumping right back into a music world that’s been—knowingly or not—waiting for them. With the rise of artists like Wednesday, Waxahatchee, and MJ Lenderman, the general indie pop scene has recognized the greatness of the country sound that Ratboys have been pioneering for over a decade.
Singin’ to an Empty Chair begins with the aptly titled “Open Up.” Julia Steiner’s wonderfully distinct twangy vocal style carries the opening of the song. The lyrics here are simple: Steiner repeatedly asks “What’s it gonna take to open up?” while employing simple metaphors of breaking ice and eagle eyes to emphasize the question. The song starts quiet, but David Sagan’s guitar line and Marcus Nuccio’s drums kick up in the latter half. It’s an effectively simple earworm with a hopeful energy to set the tone for the rest of the album.
Following this opening up, the album moves into a bittersweet couplet of regret and growing up. “Know You Then” presents one perspective: the narrator seems to regret something in the past, something they weren’t present for. They understand that it’s “not my problem,” but still wish they’d “been there in less than a second / If time and space allowed.” The following track, “Light Night Mountains All That” flips the script. It’s fast-paced, with far more noticeable drums and a danceable beat. Steiner’s narration takes the alternate perspective in the “Know You Then” story by pointing out the narrator’s loneliness and repeating “you didn’t care” ad nauseam.
The dual perspective in “Know You Then” and “Light Night Mountains All That” underlies the entire album. There’s a lot of beautifully complex images paired with themes of hopelessness and upbeat instrumentals. “Penny In the Lake” deals in dancing and swimming and abandoned dreams, while “Strange Love” and “World So Madly” address the near-certain loss that comes with love. Ratboys know how to explore complex themes and, even more importantly, they’ve figured out how to make them go down easy with swingin’ melodies.
This isn’t to say that the entire album is upbeat enough to forget how deep the lyrics cut. “Just Want You to Know the Truth” is slow and stripped down. Evocative images like empty construction sites, Christmas Eve lasagna, and Antiques Roadshow represent a period of idle restlessness. The song dances around a narrative with these snapshots, just as the narrator struggles to tell the truth. Here, again, are the contradictions. The slow pace and quiet instrumentals force the listener to hear every lyric and reveal a desire to come clean, yet the narrator continues to struggle with communication.
Singin’ to an Empty Chair ends with another couplet. “Burn It Down” stews with a dull ringing in the background and slightly reverbed lyrics. The song’s rage escalates as it grows more personal. It begins in the third person, of a “young boy” with impenetrable thoughts. Eventually, though, it progresses into the second person and finally the first with “Hands off our fuckin’ mouths / We gotta burn it down.” While the lyrics continue to escalate into a rallying cry, the sound amps up and then cools back down. This softer sound flows into the closing track, “At Peace in the Hundred Acre Wood,” which keeps the mellow tone while adding a friendly tambourine. The lyrics douse the fire “Burn It Down” set. The closing track’s lyrics are full of water: “sailing away,” “rain,” and “soak[ing] everything up” are the dominant images. The song acknowledges the pain expressed in prior songs, but urges listeners to “laugh through” it.
The closing song wraps up Singin’ to an Empty Chair perfectly. It doesn’t just acknowledge the complex emotions laid out in earlier songs. It takes action to put out the flames without hiding them. It is optimistic and welcoming, with a friendly sound. This is what Ratboys have been working towards: an album riddled with intensely nuanced emotions, strong images, and a nod towards a lovely future.