The Everywhere’s self-titled album features catchy, jangly folk-rock that’s both tripped-out and strung-out.
Father/Daughter Records, 2013
7.7 / 10
Nova Scotia’s The Everywheres debuted earlier this year with the cassette Slow Friends; a hazy, dreamy gem with influences ranging from The Pixies to the beachy dream-pop of modern bands like DIIV and Beach Fossils. While their new self-titled sticks to somewhat of a similar formula, there’s much more of a ’60s psychedelic folk-rock vibe here that, although reminiscent at times of The Brian Jonestown Massacre at their most tripped-out and strung-out, is its own beast entirely.
Opener “Unfortunate Direction” sets the tone, with swirling organ backing an uptempo-yet mellow groove, and hypnotic noodling lead guitar that intertwines with the main melody perfectly. Most of the songs here are variations on that same theme, yet it’s done so well that the lack of variety is a positive, as the druggy, jangly bliss is easy to get entirely lost in, especially with headphones (which aren’t included, but are pretty much required). Other highlights for me include the hazy, surf-infused “Someone Disappeared,” the trance-inducing rhythms and liquid-y leads of “Watch It Grow,” and the BJM-esque, ramshackle folk-rock vibe of “Strangers Below The Wire.” The languid vocals of Everywheres brainchild Samuel T. Hill, while not buried in the mix, are difficult to parse, yet still help to set the blissful, dreamy mood.
The Everywheres is a great collection of laid-back, melodic psych-rock and dream-pop that’s both catchy and adventurous, with an easygoing vibe that’s pretty hard to not get taken in by, even with the abundance of bands around these days with a similar sound. Not many are able to pull off this brand of free and easy ’60s-influenced psych as well as The Everywheres. The top-notch melodies not only set them apart from most of their peers, but place them near the top of the heap.