Waxahatchee – Ivy
Tripp
Merge, 2014
Katie Crutchfield wasted no time capitalizing on the
breakout success of her sophomore effort as Waxahatchee—2013’s excellent Cerulean Salt. That album was full of
concentrated ramshackle indie-pop. Perfect hooks locked in sub-three-minute
shells that begged relistening the way a junkie begs you to let you have just
this next one free because they’ll get you the money in three days, they
promise. It was one of those albums where I AGONIZED over which track would
make my year end list, because half the songs on that album were show-stopping
standouts and the other half were these subtle, soulful gems that helped
Crutchfield crowbar the album under your skin.
Coming off an album that was effectively vulnerability
personified, leadoff track “Breathless” sounds like a flexing muscle. A beefy
drone of feedback carries through the track’s four minutes, which is
practically an epic by Crutchfield’s standards. It’s a slow burner, relying on
the underlying feedback tones to drag you into what is effectively everything
the follow up to a breakout success should be: confident, assured, and willing
to jump off the cliff.
Listening to Ivy Tripp
in the car, I could practically taste a 90s Merge Records vibe. I couldn’t
remember who put it out, but when I arrived at my destination and had a chance
to check it made perfect sense. Merge is like a time capsule, preserving bygone
traditions of indie rock. Ivy Tripp
is a fair bit more put together than its predecessor, and though it’s maybe
three tracks too long I still found myself putting it on when I didn’t know
what else to put on.
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