Stripping everything down pays off

Earlier this year, Andrew Combs appeared on a compilation record titled 3Sirens Presents: With Love Part 1 by covering Radiohead’s “High and Dry.” It’s an excellent rendition that repeats the melodic robustness while cranking up the lush acoustic backdrop and lets Andrew Combs’ vulnerable delivery shine by naturally expanding through the mix. Sundays is a wild 180 from this teaser. Created in the wake of a nervous breakdown, it was recorded in mono with little echo. The result is unflinching lyrically and musically. While it might lack the tunefulness or twang of Combs’ other work, it makes up for it with his deft vocal performances and balanced moods.

Stereo recordings separate a track into various channels, hence why music will sound different while listening to one headphone at a time. Mono, on the other hand, does not sequester signals into their respective ranges, and thus every element of Sundays feels like it’s originating from the same point. There’s little in the way of mix depth, so a tap of the percussion gets the same weight as a woodwind note or pluck of a guitar.

Sundays’ greatest strength spills over into its weakness as well; there’s no softness to it, and thus any unagreeable tone tends to stand out. The album ends on a complete dud with “Shall We Go,” where Combs’ intense vibrato to end the track is not worth the preceding two minutes of a single, endless note of feedback. Overall, the guitars lose the most from the new recording techniques. While they serve a purpose with their abrasive edge, it’s not interesting enough to make up for lacking the pastoral color of Worried Man or the satisfying twang of All These Dreams.

That’s not to say the music lacks color. A host of woodwinds are brought in to make up for the guitars losing their flair, from the elongated snarl of “I See Me” to the pretty flutes opening “Drivel to a Dream.” It’s a good contrast to the brooding tone of the music, simmering in pronounced plucks and crisp brushing percussion. While they might not stand out as much as before, the twisted arpeggios of “Mark of the Man” and “Truth and Love” are still compelling. The horns and flutes bring in enough color to not give in completely to darkness while remaining restrained enough to not feel unwieldy with the new recording setup. Even the livelier “Adeline,” with its brighter acoustics, pedal steel and more prominent backing vocals, works with the rest of the album through Combs’ voice dominating so much of the mix and being good enough to justify taking up so much space.

All these production decisions place Combs in the center of the frame, with little post-production work to soften his voice or let it expand throughout the song like it did on “High and Dry.” On song after song, his exposed fragile tenor warbles, yet commands attention and optimism while he tries to sort through the darkness. His falsetto on “I See Me” is nothing short of breathtaking lyrically as he compares himself to a flower blossoming under the light while fearing whether he can depend on it forever, so he breathes it in as much as he can while it’s here. “Truth and Love” ends with him repeating ‘truth and love is all there is,” and yet what could have been sanctimonious garbage is earned by the misery and soul-searching of “God(less).” Clinging onto God’s presence in the most wretched place and “Mark of the Man” removing all excuses and veneers to hold man’s feet to the fire. It acknowledges difficulties without giving in entirely to nihilism, and the notes of positivity do not feel born from a place of ignorance or detachment.

A risk paid off as he found the right sonic accompaniment to his fragile mental state and paired it with some of his best performances yet. Sundays will not be everyone’s cup of tea and will be hard to replicate, yet it was the perfect choice for Combs at this time.