Confronting Mortality with Mania

Accepting the inevitable fate that death will one day come for us all is a hard pill to swallow, which is why humans generated the soothing epithets ‘Carpe Diem’ and ‘YOLO,’ while simultaneously explaining the prominence Destiny’s Child’s “Survivor” has on countless workout playlists. Quirky Seattle quartet Gazebos puts their own spin on the existential essence of mortality and it’s as fun and deliberately absurd as one might expect from a band that self describes themselves as ‘whoa-pop.’ (They would also accept the term “prog-punk”).

A collection of the frenzied and deliriously diverse interests of four seasoned musicians and Seattle lifers, Gazebos is singer Shannon Perry, guitarist TV Coahran, bassist Shane Herrell and drummer Jordan T. Adams. Die Alone is Gazebos’ debut album for Hardly Art records, the sister label to Sub Pop, produced by Kurt Bloch and described by Hardly Art as “Not the existential bummer the title suggests. Gazebos rages against the forces of post-millennial, pre-midlife anxiety and Die Alone is the soundtrack.”

Entertaining, idiosyncratic and touting it’s own brand of off kilter philosophy, Die Alone is a nine track mosaic of individually conceived demos mired together during sessions in Coahran’s basement that even includes a faithful cover from the Grease soundtrack, which is easily explained by the Rizzo tattoo Perry sports on her neck. The album kicks off with “Just Get High,” an immediate and playful track that hits the listener with Perry and Co. singing backwards in a chant that sounds oddly akin to something from The Lion King before diving into a poppy repetition that aligns itself with Perry’s lovable quipping. “Just Get High” is – unexpectedly – a break-up song, using nonsensical verse to concentrate on the feeling of being stuck in a banal reality that is inescapable, impervious even to the sweet relief of getting stoned. Among it’s litany of inspiration, Die Alone channels subtle B-52’s, Dresden Dolls and Talking Heads without the trappings that can come saddled with a sound indebted to kitsch and nostalgia, instead creating a contagiously impromptu and satisfying marriage.

“I Don’t Want To Be Here” possesses the kind of jittery energy akin to running up and down a short flight of stairs until passing out, soaked with punchy angst and flange guitar. “Blend” is kindred to a theater number, with Perry using a tantalizing speak-sing style exchanged with floaty harmony before hedging into a spacey, tumbling and overall satisfying payoff with tiny teases of distorted guitar.

“Ere Specka” is a crashing, slightly desensitizing track with thundering percussion and spiraling guitar combined with Perry’s yips, coughs and a catchy chorus, while “Sauna” gives advice on how to occupy yourself from “brain jail for a spell,” urging the listener to “take a breath while you got ’em.” “There Are Worse Things I Could Do” has Perry showcasing her vocal prowess in all it’s solid, glamorously gravelly glory and final track “Boys I Like” is easily Die Alone’s mission statement and the best mantra this side of middle school, the final nail in the conjectural coffin.

Die Alone feels like a coming of age film soundtrack from a parallel universe where everything is marginally weirder but no one realizes because that oddity is in fact considered normal. With this album, Gazebos makes it known that “every single one of us is dying right now, together,” and in it’s own pragmatic way, that’s A-okay.