Lost At Sea

It’s not often that an album’s cover art so perfectly mirrors the music inside, but this is precisely the case with PS I Love You’s latest album, For Those Who Stay. The cover art depicts an ambiguous structure at the bottom of the sea surrounded by rocks and murky water, the picture blurry and distorted. So too, is the music.

The whole album is plagued by a production aesthetic that is simply too noisy. The crunch of guitars or gratuitous feedback and synth tracks tend to overwhelm the more melodic aspects of the record. Combine that with singer Paul Saunier’s twitchy, quavering voice (think Luke Lalonde of fellow Canadian group Born Ruffians when he gets overly excited, but all the time), and it becomes difficult to latch on to any kind of hummable tune. Each of those elements — Saunier’s vocal modulations, and the shoegaze production — can work individually, but to pull off that production aesthetic a band needs clear, strong melodies. And to pull of that voice, well, the less background noise the better.

This is not to say that For Those Who Stay is all bad. It has its great moments that suggest that this band is capable of much more than they’ve put on this record. The finest of those moments comes on the finest song of the album, “Afraid of the Light.” During the intro to the song, Saunier sings with a more confident, powerful and clear tone than anywhere else. Combine that with the reverb heavy choir and guitars, and drummer Benjamin Nelson’s slightly behind the beat fills (this is a good thing), and you get a thoroughly rousing, and slightly uplifting piece of music. All of this happens before the song transitions into a pleasing and simple tune that is somewhat reminiscent of Jackson Browne’s “Somebody’s Baby” (indeed, all of the album’s best tracks have somewhat of an early 80’s sound to them).

Other standout tracks include “More of the Same,” which starts out promisingly with a jarring guitar solo that cuts above the noise to provide the most exciting moment of the album, and “Bad Brain Day,” the only track on the album that could be termed a ballad.

Despite its flashes of greatness, For Those Who Stay is ultimately dragged down by dead weight tracks like “Friends Forever” and “Limestone Radio.” The overbearing production and the trembling vocals deny listeners the melodic base they need, leaving them stuck underwater with that vague structure from the cover art: grasping for something, anything, to hold on to among the murk.