Since 2017, They Are Gutting a Body of Water has evolved from Doug Dulgarian’s shoegazey, slowcore-influenced solo project into a dense, maximalist quartet that can best be described as the soundtrack to a hypothetical Mario Kart Level of Hell. The band’s fusion of drum ‘n’ bass and breakcore with hard, dense layers of guitar and bass is often accompanied by rounded N64-inspired tones, creating a world both playful and sinister in its embrace of the synthetic. Their sound feels massive but insular in its precision: during live sets, they prefer to play in front of each other in a tight circle. In LotusTAGABOW’s fourth studio album, the band tunes out hyperreality and abandons electronic elements in favor of a more direct live approach: finally letting the screens go black and raising the blinds. It’s their rawest album yet, both in theme and sound.
Although Dulgarian has previously delved into themes of numbness and isolation, the lyrics have tended to be evasive, allowing his concise, imaginative motifs to slip quietly beneath the strident riffs. Lotus strips his words from the jump. The album begins with “the chase,” a first-person account of suffering through fentanyl withdrawal. “Boosting Gillettes in a hopeful exchange for a strong but calm synthetic isolate,” he murmurs, “a substance that will make me sob pathetically before my girlfriend at the top of the castle of miracles.” Even when the lyrics are more confusing and sparse, Dulgarian’s voice comes through clearer than ever. On “rl stine,” dedicated to a homeless friend, he allows certain phrases to come to the fore amidst the guitar sounds breaking through the speakers: “I know it hurts/Greet the day with a sweet reserve.” LotusThe vignettes become even more heartbreaking in their abrupt shifts toward clarity.
Still, Lotus It is not a pessimistic album; It’s the band’s most hopeful work, both for its brutal honesty and its conscious quest to stand firm. Dulgarian notes that the album is “riddled with perceptible errors, which ebb and flow as humanly as possible.” [he] can put on a record.” This feeling was always present in TAGABOW’s music (“Evolve or die,” he sang on 2022’s “webmaster”), but it comes to life in these minimalist arrangements. On the instrumental standout “slo crostic,” Dulgarian, bassist Emily Lofing and guitarist PJ Carroll take turns playing Ben Opatut’s drums before joining together on a relatively simple but undeniably hooked. finish. He seems unrehearsed, or at least more relaxed and relaxed than ever. Closer in, “herpim” explores the band’s new steady approach with lyrics describing an airplane emergency over ambulance-like guitars and a husky, looming bassline. “We couldn’t land where we intended because there are storms,” Dulgarian announces over the loudspeaker, “but now we have to do it, so I need you to buckle up.” The instruments fade out one by one, concluding the album with some muffled drums and the sound of a door opening.
