“Disappointment lingers in the air.”
Something lingers in the water too, at least in Winnipeg, Manitoba. Home to noise rock and adjacent bands like KEN Mode, Kittens, and Dead Ranch, it’s prairie location must awake something feral within people, who then become compelled to expel that outward. Tunic established itself quickly as one such group, lumbering out of the snow with Wrong Dream. A bit more drawn out than 2021’s Quitter, this time we have a 32-minute runtime across which we can feel Bad:
You feel it slip away,
A new unfamiliar feeling.
It’s only ever been described,
I’ve seen devour so much more.
Anyone familiar with Tunic‘s previous work will immediately notice that they’ve slowed down. Less frantic and frenetic this time around, with more room to steep. “Disease”, the first single in the tracklist helps to signify the albums themes. Disillusion with the grind, lamenting societal pressures, etc. make up a large part of the subject matter. Sonically, it sounds like a thinner Daughters, or like the aforementioned KEN Mode with less low end. Already, I get the sense of some growing pains here with the direction, but it works well on a song-by-song level.
My body on the bottom,
I could be anyone.
My body, my blood,
My own blood cheers for this to end.
The next track “My Body, My Blood” continues the sad display, featuring vocalist David Schellenberg‘s near spoken word delivery about loss of agency within interpersonal relationships. A nice riff appears here and there to slice up the background behind a post-punk inspired bassline. Things come to an intriguing end as the tempo picks up and the wall of sound gets taller, but this one doesn’t do anything the last single didn’t.
Only fearing yourself,
Hopeless chance,
Hopeless life,
Unable to see you’re nothing.
By the next single “Whispering”, the album’s most critical drawback becomes even more clear. Of course, it hits on the same points as did the previous track, and the previous one, and the previous one. In fact, if I heard 30 seconds of it, I could not confidently identify which single the snippet originated from. Perhaps that’s part of the show, filling the theme by treating the listener to a slog of repetitive, crushing songs, but it does run you down by track 6.
On the other hand, closer “Empty Husk” proves one of the album’s most effective tracks, slowing things down to sludge. Schellenberg stands out against the initially stark instrumentation, shouting into the void. The riff that starts out the outro sounds almost triumphant, behind the wail of “I’ve reached the point of it that I’ve been afraid of,” represents an unexpected tonal shift, which makes for one of the most exciting moments in Wrong Dream.
While it may be a new sound for Tunic, the sound itself isn’t particularly new and tends to wear. Though each track individually holds up well, as a package they struggle to differentiate themselves from one another. Actually, this proves to be part of the strength in a recognizable finale in “Empty Husk”. With that being said, recognizing that Tunic responded to what they see in the world by getting darker, slower, and more depressing helps to make up for this weakness. Overall, this album does bear coming back to over time to once again wallow, so mission accomplished in that sense.
7/10
Tunic – Wrong Dream comes out this Friday, April 28 on Artoffact Records with pre-orders found here.