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Krill - "Alam No Hris" (Reissue) | Album Review

by Kris Handel

Boston as a city for musicians/artists has always been a pretty transitory stop that is vastly scattered due either to the economics of living in the Metro Boston area or a lack of small to midsize venues to show off their abilities in front of dedicated audiences. In the early 2010's however there was a little hub of like minded DIY/punk artists that arose, catching people's attention and creating what one could call a "scene". That began to flourish and right around the heart of it was the band Krill. The trio of Jonah Furman, Aaron Ratoff, and Luke Pyenson created jittery music that was full of questions like what really matters? How can we help make a connection/community that is fruitful for everyone, mixed with an insulated humor marked by absurdity. In 2012 Krill released their debut album Alam No Hris to the world and from that point on things started to coalesce and grow from the tight little bubble that was the Boston music community into a point of joy and excitement for many. Krill's music blared and rattled with a jagged melange of punk styles filled with anthemic cries that would quickly catch on, resonating with a large part of the audience that from the outside seemed to clutch to every phrase and note.

"Piranha Girl" starts off with Furman quakily repeating "it can be hard to remember / I am not the Cosmic Controller" over rumbling bass matched by jumpy riffs from Ratoff’s guitar and Pyenson’s rattling drums as the energy begins to build. Furman's vocals grow to a wild bit of a yowl as he documents finding a hair on one of his possessions, bringing back a flood of emotions on multiple levels that truly make a hard connection. "Coolant" is another song that questions ones place in the world and their responsibilities to a shaky kind of faith in all different kind of ways. Furman’s vocals go from a restrained cool to a shout at the drop of the pin as Ratoff's guitar jangles and spits out jumpy lines and Pyenson crashes and rattles away with explosive fury.  

"Sick Dogs (for Jake)" has Krill showing off their self-deprecation in possibly the most endearing way possible as Furman and Pyenson lock into a bouncy groove and Ratoff skitters around with jumpy riffs. This is the trio blowing off a bit of musical steam and celebrating friendship with a wink and nod. Krill created a piece of music that reaches the audience in unexpected ways, an aspect of the band that made the listener feel so welcomed. One can make the claim that "Solitaire" is one of the hallmarks of Krill's recorded output as the song packs a ton of roiling emotions and introspection, equal amounts heartfelt and self-deprecation. Within "Solitaire," Furman recounts moments of reflection on past relationships and changing recollections with time while taking account of his internal feelings with lyrics like "My spirit floated/just the fuck out of me/and living since/has been a wobbly trip/I can tell you all about it." His bass bounces slowly while Pyenson and Ratoff also play it relatively toned down, giving space for Furman's words and trembling delivery to carry the day while occasionally dropping explosions when the moment calls for it.

Alam No Hris is being released on vinyl for the first time for it's tenth anniversary, and as a welcome into the humble but unique and creative world of Krill, its excellence is unquestioned. This album may have its bumps in the road and share of roughness, but they refuse to stop moving forward and the energy and commitment reaches out of the speakers to grab your attention one way or another. This is a document of three twenty-somethings being able to take a moment to release some anxieties and have a good time with friends while doing so, a humongous part of its appeal. Alam No Hris shows a band just starting to find its way in the musical landscape and one that fully embraces it's own take on what they see in their world as a whole. It’s notable for the humanity displayed in the lyrics and the rambunctious and unrestrained joy of the music. This laid the foundation for Krill (in one form or another) to grow and build upon, ushering in a new and welcoming musical environment for anyone open to joining in.