OH, ARE THEY? – Guilt (oharethey.bandcamp.com)
Oh yes, they are. Philadelphia band Oh, Are They? is well worth the time spent listening on this, their third record. In a departure from their previous releases, titled, “i” and “ii,” they’ve titles this one with a word rather than a number. The title is “Guilt,” and it’s a harbinger of the topical nature of the ten songs here. There are themes of guilt here, guilt about one’s identity, guilt about indecision whether to remain stagnant or to embrace change, guilt about whether to stay or go. These songs are more than solid. They’re in the post-hardcore realm, with strong, heavy, aggressive instrumentals and powerful, emotion-packed shouted and screamed vocals, but the songs are much more compelling and complex than typical post-hardcore. Unexpected chord changes and thoughtful arrangements with a sometimes near orchestral sensibility are evident. The songs get better and better as the album evolves, going from good to strong to phenomenal. The intro, “Movable Headstones,” is a quiet eerie song that tells of a dream that one’s home is inhabited by a ghost trying to escape. But more than a ghost story, it seems to be a story of how we sabotage our own attempts to get out of bad situations or improve our lives. “And it tried to escape through a door / And I was behind each time pushing it closed,” the song says. It tees up the rest of the album’s themes of self-sabotage and uncertainty of one’s own identity, with songs like “Stop Hitting Yourself” and “Mistaken Identity.” The latter track is about imposter syndrome, the feeling that you aren’t who others think you are, that you’re somehow “less than,” and the uncertainty of whether you should strive to live up to those perceived expectations or not. “A Stranger Revelation” is jaw-droppingly good, showing impressive dynamic range, with sections shifting from loud to soft to loud and with rhythms that shift on a dime. In addition to the huge songs there are quieter ballads with a thinner arrangement and slower pace, but the vocals are, perhaps, even more angst-filled and forceful. Such is the case with “Perfect,” a song about being in denial of the need for change in one’s life. “Don’t make me change!” the chorus demands, “Because everything’s perfect.” “Everything the Light Touches” moves from quiet to loud, but rather than sounding aggressive, the song has an almost breezy sound through most of it. The lyrics are about knowing self-destruction and avoidance of responsibility. “I’m slowly killing myself / And I know you’re concerned about my health / Am I doing my best / Or am I playing a trick on everyone else?” the song asks. “I’m going away for awhile / I hope that you come too.” “I’m so afraid to be alone,” the song chimes, as if to reveal the recognition that you may be pushing others away, but you don’t want to. The song builds and builds, the guitars distorting and all the instruments sounding like a bell tolling. The climax of the album is reached with “Dweller (On the Threshold),” an amazing tour de force, a sweeping epic of a song. It seems to be about being on the threshold of change, at the point of choosing life or death, choosing to move forward or sink deeper, and the struggle to decide. The album’s postscript, “Removable Headstones,” is a bookend to the album’s intro, featuring just piano and vocals. “Your dreams, they don’t matter to me,” the song states, “You don’t matter to me,” it concludes. The interpretation is left open. What decision was made at the threshold? Is it the dream of the ghost or is it the sense of self that doesn’t matter? It’s up to each of us to decide for ourselves what matters. What would you decide? Whatever course you choose, do buy this record. Do it now. It’s that good.