Spectreview: Thank You, I’m Sorry – I’m Glad We’re Friends

Released: August 21, 2020

“Indie Emo”

-LIGHT CORAL-

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Is there any more enticing reason to follow rising acts than a promise fulfilled? Colleen Dow, frontperson of Minneapolis indie-emo trio Thank You, I’m Sorry, was already generating buzz back in February with The Malta House, a solo acoustic record that skillfully mixed biting clarity with crisp songwriting. I’m Glad We’re Friends, released not six months later, provides another perspective on that record’s anxiety-ridden confessions, taking most of its material and recontextualizing it through electricity and percussion. These aren’t exact transcriptions either; with heavy additions of layered guitars, complex dynamics and a variety of studio tricks, this album feels like a completely different collection of songs – a development that’s overwhelmingly for the better.

I’m Glad We’re Friends borrows heavily from the dreamy jangle and two-chord turnover of eons-old indie rock bands, but it all still bears an enticing freshness that has to be chalked up to the band’s overall songwriting skill, along with some shrewd sonic design. The Malta House’s opening track, “How Many Slugs Can We Throw Against The Wall Until We Question Our Own Morality,” here blooms into a serrated punk track with a chorus that’s miles more affecting than its acoustic blueprint thanks to dynamics alone. “Ten Dollar Latte,” is just as much an evolution with its pinball post-punk chords and propulsive drum beat, and that goes the same for “Menthol Flavored Oatmeal’s” liquid-mercury chords and “Crocodile Tears” burning guitar. Outside of these upgrades, the fresh material also fits snugly into this new direction, whether its the obligatory pensive, horn-bedecked “Slow Ghost” or the runaway cacophony of “Waves”. There’s simply no understating how much bassist Bethunni Schreiner and drummer Sage Livergood add to this material; if emo lives and dies by its potential for catharsis, the jump from The Malta House’s resolute acoustic guitar to I’m Glad We’re Friends’ full-throttle rock delivers a new flavor of that catharsis that feels not just more powerful, but representative of an ideal version of the act.

The one thing that remains unchanged between these records is Dow’s voice, which retains its knife-like plaintiveness and stark lucidity. It’s an interesting counterpoint to the roar of this new environment that puts this record in the lineage of The Beths’ Future Me Hates Me, another record where nonchalant vocals mask bottled feelings. It’s also yet another point of comparison between this record and its predecessor, one that presents a potent new perspective only possible through their juxtaposition. Where previously Dow was trapped with their thoughts, here they have band members for support; their presence provides vectors, making it so that even though Dow’s words haven’t changed, the context has. The scenery shifts in kind, from the pulled covers of dimly lit bedrooms to common living spaces adorned with houseplants and weed pipes, from the lonely din of night to the casual air of day. Once-internal musings become therapeutic in the presence of company, which is perhaps why I’m Glad We’re Friends feels as redemptive as it does electric. For a record released in a time of shattered physical connections, it’s a reminder of the salvation, however brief, we can find in casual camaraderie.

Recommended for that faded paperback copy of Voltaire you bought for two dollars at a yard sale down the street that sits on your coffee table forever until someone picks it up in the middle of a lazy three-way conversation the morning after last night’s party and thumbs through it for a few seconds before putting it back down again.