Folk-inspired sensibility with a pop-rock sound

Kelly Hoppenjans’s EP Can’t Get the Dark Out reflects the sound of ’90s grunge rock. With a more casual, breezy feel, Hoppenjans reflects a contagious optimism that bleeds throughout the record. While inherently the “dark” alluded to in the title is throughout the album, it is never overpowered by the lightness in presentation and instrumentals. Based in Nashville, Hoppenjans’s sensibilities reflect infective classic pop instrumentals and folk-inspired choruses. In its intersection, Hoppenjans reflects a soft critique of online dating, even while recognizing its success in bringing together her current partner.

The first track “Love of My Life (From My Living Room)” has all the hallmarks of “quarantine pop,” that is, songs showcasing the uniquely bizarre scenarios that came from COVID-19 inflicted quarantine in early 2020. Inside of its looping, soft rock instrumentals, Hoppenjans reflects both the desire to be known and the fear of it. Despite the disavowal of online dating, there is still an intriguing quality to it, leading to the chorus to grow in intensity, as if building up the catalyst for the album.

“I Knew The Way There” reflects a more grungey sound, reflecting a lot of the rock music that has recently grown nostalgic. In this sound, there is a sense of empowerment reflected in the commitment to Hoppenjans’s mission with her work. Inside the insular story, the EP assures one that they are not alone.

In contrast to the more upbeat opening tracks, “Stain” has a slow cadence that makes the song feel like the most personal on the EP. When the bridge comes, it seems more cathartic than those previous. The singer reflects a more varied lyrical performance near the end, which seems to be under-tapped in the rest of the album. The belt combined with the bass breakdown and screaming drumkit has an interesting play with one another that isn’t as celebrated in the rest of the record.

“Parallel Lines” is more traditionalist than “Stain,” yet showcases the same attention to detail in its songwriting. With multiple references to the surreal nature of quarantine, there are quite thoughtful realizations. With the touches of folk-rock instrumentals, Hoppenjans’s vocal range is celebrated thoroughly. The swinging guitar and the harmonies reflect more of ’70s folk than ’90s grunge, yet it still weaves within the narrative.

“You Got To” has a soft sense that combines the two sounds of the record. In satisfactory conclusion, the singer’s desires feel more tangible than the frustrations at the beginning. In finding hope in the middle of the dark times of 2020, the album reflects an optimistic look that many artists are creating. While the album certainly does not reinvent the pandemic record, it is a cathartic 20 minutes. Even when all seems lost, the darkness somehow is left out. Contrary to the album’s title, Hoppenjans has found some happiness within the record, and her love shines through beautifully.