The Brooklyn-based noir-poppers defiantly refuse to re-invent a well-oiled wheel with their ambient third record
Cigarettes After Sex – formed in 2008 in El Paso, Texas – has reached an edifying moment in its lifespan: the release of the third album. The project, titled X’s and released through Partisan Records, tackles that sink-or-swim syndrome so many bands fear at this juncture by – characteristically – opting for consistency over transformation.
But do not think this a criticism. Many of the greats held fast to their winning formula and to this day enjoy a legacy, rightly or wrongly, untarnished. Cigarettes After Sex takes a similar tac, with a sound and aesthetic that is rock-steady and unchanging, both inter and intra-album; from the cadences to the cover art.
The sound and arrangement across X’s tracklist have marinated; like a box of assorted dark chocolates slowly warmed on the backseat of a Dodge Ram, until melding into a single, homogenous treacle-thick ooze. The listener is best off seeing this album, then, as a meditative ambience – a work served finest as the accompaniment to a cocktail-studded romantic evening in, as opposed to the classic, bi-lateral engagement with one’s headphones.
The lyrics, as ever, cover exquisitely every facet of limerence: lust, love (unrequited or otherwise) and sex. They are pretty, imagistic vignettes, burning slowly on a pyre of noir-pop. Yet, while the Brooklyn-based outfit’s first two LPs drew on an amalgam of relationships, this instalment lands on a single, ill-fated iteration which lasted a quartet of years. It’s all there, in the heart-wrenchingly brutal vernacular.
No doubt the most seductively catchy cut on the record is “Baby Blue Movie”. According to frontman and producer, Greg Gonzalez, the title is a euphemism for softcore pornography. The percussion is damp, unadulterated and (most importantly) feels live. The bass sounds as though you’re in the room next to it and the guitar brings that ‘verby wideness that has become so emblematic of Cigarettes After Sex. Gonzalez’s voice, which – while less nasally and back-of-the-mouth than 2017’s debut approach – is androgynous as ever and reminiscent of the effortless, unaffected charm of Mazzy Star.
The LP’s lead single, “Tejano Blue” is a homage to Gonzalez’s hometown in Texas: El Paso, though only listeners who know the band less-than-well would expect some Tex-Mex flavours of European waltz, polka or country. Yes, “Tejano Blue” adheres to the band’s established mystique like a house fly on a honey jar, though with sparser verses and a guitar riff that trickles inexorably to sea-level. Gonzalez cites The Cocteau Twins as inspiration.
After “Tejano Blue” fell “Dark Vacay” from X’s. This is the sonic diary of a lead singer who, while travelling across the European continent, endured a seismic breakup. A seasoned ear will be able to discern that it was not a cold Gonzalez was suffering during this take – it was heartbreak, or at least the memory of it. The mix, studded with the authentic screech of fingers sliding up and down round-wound acoustic strings, captures that emotion mercilessly and holistically. Each note Gonzalez’s voice lands on is no less delicious than the last and the ascent to the chorus is as touching as it is memorable.
Other honourable mentions on X’s include the title track, as well as the pleasingly derivative “Silver Sable”. For some slightly more twangy guitar work, cast the ear over “Hot” or “Ambien Slide”.
On this album, Cigarettes After Sex has honoured that blue-retro philosophy of 80s fan-favourites, like The Cure, The Smiths or The Blue Nile, along with a splash of new-wave expansiveness – reminiscent of the likes of The XX or Beach House. But, for originality’s sake, the band never entirely dives into the shimmering waters of Slowdive-esque shoegaze-cum-dreampop – opting for a kind of slowcore simplicity favoured by their (more poppy) contemporaries, The Drums.
Cigarettes After Sex has bequeathed us a 38-minute island of tranquillity that we may all retreat to in our minds; a refuge from the often vapid, dizzying and fast-burning culture around us.
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