Spectreview: Frankie Cosmos – Close It Quietly

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“It never stops, this swirling
But honey, I will die trying”

In the young decade, Frankie Cosmos helped popularize an economical, clear-eyed version of indie pop that viewed adulthood through the lens of youth, but many were (and still are) quick to write off the band as a lingering product of that era’s greater indie movement, one that seemed to contain everything from the now-stale Juno soundtrack to the insipid quirkiness of twee-folk’s worst entries. Musically, the band certainly does what they do very well, and Close It Quietly doesn’t change that fact, even if there’s an undeniable collaborative spirit that imbues a blessed sense of variety across the album’s 21 tracks. Frankie Cosmos doesn’t often sound as rock-forward as they do here, and the newfound heaviness of tracks like “So Blue” and “Windows,” powerful tracks on their own, also augment the effectiveness of the softer tracks by virtue of comparison. Another simple pleasure here is where the presence of relatively novelty influences intersects with classically Cosmos techniques, like the merging of nascent NY indie rock and Great Kline’s creative vocal harmonies on “Wannago” or the starkness of a cappella on “A Hit”.

Yet it’s always been Kline’s poetic prowess that’s given the band its ultimate potency, and what’s evident here is that Kline’s ability to construct powerful couplets and turns of phrase has sharpened to an even finer point. Like many high-profile indie artists, Kline consistently writes from a point of internal conflict, but that conflict is less self-absorbed and more ponderous, couched in the general struggle of being a complex human amidst other complex humans. True to her MO, Close It Quietly’s love songs are framed against the entirety of experiencing love, and its songs about breakups are grounded in the funhouse mirrors of perception. In fact, much of the record is preoccupied with the lingering effects of a bad relationship, and Kline takes this unfortunate turn of events and flexes her lyrical muscles in ways that reiterate why she is revered as an indie songwriter. Her skill at metaphor building is nigh unmatched by her peers: observe all the ways she posits people as individual facets of nature, how in specific lights we are the tree and the leaf, the branch and the trunk, the moon and the sea. She has the capacity to write novelistically (see how “Cosmic Shop” plays on her band’s name, and then directly leads right into the verse of “41st”) and with complete self-awareness (note how many songs are present here that she “Never Would” write, or how she humorously comments on indie’s “topic of the day” by tossing off the threatening climate apocalypse in the album’s very first lines), and her use of yellow and blue as an illustration of interacting personas within the confines of a relationship is a particularly astounding move. To cap it all off, the record’s overall autumnal feel suits the material perfectly, and because of this auspicious combination, Close It Quietly might go down as one of Frankie Cosmos’ most accomplished albums. If anything, it’s a reassuring marker not only of Kline’s continuous growth as a songwriter, but her ability to usher outside forces into her dioramic world.

Recommended for the last of the warm summer rain.