Spectreview: Coral Grief – Coral Grief EP

Released: May 14, 2021
(Tape release: August 6, 2021)

Dream Pop
(Ambient)
(Experimental)

-RED!-

For a guide to the review color rating system, click here.

Some genres of music need reinvention to stay relevant. Dream pop is not one of these genres; as long as you nail the feel, you can crank out something that sounds exactly like decades worth of predecessors and still feel fresh, because for the most part dream pop is entirely an aesthetic. More than others, it can come out a great deal larger than the sum of its parts just depending on the ingredients going into it.

On their debut EP, Seattle duo Coral Grief absolutely nail dream pop. It’s not just the familiarity of the reverberative spaces they conjure, which calls to mind the more atmospheric side of late-‘90s Slowdive and more contemporary acts like Alvvays and DIIV. There’s something more behind the pair’s blossoming tracks, something with a peculiar erudite edge akin to Stereolab. These are smartly-crafted songs that belie their humble, familiar frameworks with surprising twists, strong melodies and a production job that doesn’t cheapen any of these components.

Though the duo mesh their parts together in ways that render their sources untraceable, what stick out initially are Lena Farr-Morrissey’s crisp vocals and Sam Fason’s spacious guitar work. Besides the gentle background pads and warm bass, these two components drive atmospheric opener “Crumble,” which transforms from a slight pleaser to a substantial introduction the moment Farr-Morrissey’s voice ascends into a higher register. It starts out stable but unspools organically into a starry breakdown, the sleeper agent a snare-kick combo that feels exquisitely dry and full at the same time.

Each track here bears some small yet unexpected component that lifts it just out of convention. “Out of My Mind” is a fairly conventional uptempo number until the delay goes just a little too far and grazes the eardrums; “So Long’s” descending guitar arpeggios on the bridge pull the song out of its lockstep, a little like when your foot misses a step. “Residue” gradually dissolves into a cyclic bass line before your eyes like an early Aphex Twin track, while the fluid “While They Sleep” is lifted by a tremolo-like synth that weaves in and out of the ears. What defines this EP, ultimately, is that subtle sense of surprise: just one or two elements you wouldn’t expect popping up that tie everything together into something only half-recognizable.

The other part of the EP’s success comes from the production, which is pleasantly roughshod but clear enough to take advantage of the duo’s instrumental denseness. As mentioned, the dryness of the drums is perfect for these songs; same goes for the bass and kick levels, which punch but don’t overwhelm. But importantly, the band isn’t afraid to push into uncomfortable waters, which is necessary with music that could just as easily read somnambulant; the way “Out of my Mind” ends, and the sharp vocal delay on motorik closer “Rodeo Radio,” startle as they should.

What results is a collection that’s comforting without being complacent in its comfort. Clearly this pair knows what they’re doing; the question, one I’m stoked to see answered, is how far they can possibly take it.

Recommended for a warm bath.