Again
The Belair Lip Balms are most certainly not here to reinvent the wheel. On their sophomore album Again, the Melbourne-based quartet is not reenvisioning indie rock, but rather chugging along and simply having fun.
Since joining Jack White’s Third Man Records, The Belair Lip Balms are more invested than they have ever been in their craft. Following the well-received “power pop” debut Lush Life (2023), Again has pushed the band a little bit deeper into the rock genre. The result is a high-energy, feel-good album, made for lovers of a little more rock than indie. The Belair Lip Balms solidify their genre-blending skills, hopping between folk, rock, and pop elements at higher and lower tempos and everywhere in between. But however sweet it may sound, Again is not a totally convincing attempt at the band’s new angle. With plenty of production and storytelling weaknessnes, Again did not impress me.
This is not to say that all tracks flopped. Don’t Let Them Tell You (It’s Fair) is one hell of a fun track with a catchy hook and clever melody (although it feels a bit long). Likewise, Another World is an intimate account of loving someone. The highs and lows and aches and joys. The writing is not revolutionary, but charming in its own honest way. Similarly, I find that the band seems to thrive on their more ambiguous songs like Hey You, where the lyrics do not try to take over and we are allowed to sink into spacey, crisp instrumentals.
On the contrary, overly-literal tracks like Cinema paint the band’s writing in an elementary light: “You remind me of a cinema, ‘cause every time you show me somebody new; And if I said I was a movie star, would you tell me that you wanted me too?” Likewise, Back of My Hand - one of the record’s biggest tracks - feels like a love song written by a 15 year-old girl: “I knew I was doomed when I saw you, and it hit me in the face like a pie.” The melody is indeed charming, but if the lyrics are going to fall flat in this way, I would expect the instrumental production to carry a little more.
But instead, the guitar tones feel rough around the edges (and not in a good way). The drums feel far too distant to give the songs any real backbone or energy. The production feels crunchy, unpolished, especially on the grungier punk-ish songs. This is why the dream pop indie influences on Hey You or slow piano on Burning Up act as a nice interlude to the abrasive guitar mania elsewhere in the album.
The vocal production, too, is absolutely nothing impressive. Maisie Everett’s weak spots come through on tracks with bolder vocal moves - i.e. the big runs on Back Of My Hand, high notes on If You’ve Got The Time, or pacing of the verses on Smiling. It sometimes simply feels as though Everett is underprepared to take on such vocal endeavors - something that she can very likely improve with training.
On the whole, The Belair Lip Balms certainly have potential, captured in fleeting cherished moments on Again. The band’s job going forward will be bringing this talent to the forefront and avoiding directionless contributions to an already over-saturated genre.
