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June 26, 2020 - Polydor Records
LA based sisters HAIM are here with their third album Women in Music Pt. III whimsically referred to as WIMPIII. HAIM’s previous work had largely existed in my periphery, a smattering of background radio plays, perhaps heard in a late night Uber ride or passing an open storefront. A few of the singles leading up to WIMPIII intrigued me however, so I embarked on a binge trip through all their released material leading up to this. Here is a running commentary of WIMPIII as told during my third listen.
‘Los Angeles’ - Summer feels from the start; I hate summer. These lyrics fall into that mindset. I am comforted by shared experience; defending a hometown—both a hometown by circumstance or choice—knowing that New York is cold (though that's why I love New York). The instrumental remains steadfast, gritty enough; an ambivalent baritone saxophone rambling on into forever.
‘The Steps’ - Feels like I stepped off the Greyhound into a 90s pickup truck commercial. I’m dusty and uncomfortable. The feeling here is raw. Relationship problems abound, life is unyielding and just not fair. Stylistically the instrumental feels organic if not a little derivative, but then again I am out of my element here; I’m sure that my mind contains an inescapable amount of house and techno backlogs to firmly root me in the perceived shadow of the Generic Electronic Music monolith. I’ve never made any money myself so it’s hard to relate.
‘I Know Alone’ - Slight whiplash from the genre shift; moody electronica leans into golden age R&B hi-hat loops and washed out synth-laden vocals. Being alone can be the hardest thing to cope with when it’s not desired. Being alone can be the hardest thing to recognise when you’re surrounded by others. Being alone can be what it takes to get past the past and move into the now. We all think that we “know alone/Like no one else does,” but it’s true; we all do.
‘Up From a Dream’ - Jumping back into the land of denim, drum kits, and decades past. Back to the time of finding hidden personal meaning in lyrics silently mouthed in the back of the band bus. Of feeling special in hopeless despair, letting go before really knowing what was being held. “You pointed to a sign, but in dreams, you can’t read.” The subtle building of alarm noises throughout the ending is a nice touch.
‘Gasoline’ - Sliding into a honey-soaked muted drum pattern, sultry vocals weave a web of do’s, don'ts and desires. It’s a quicker read, less blanks to fill in. Smoking kills.
‘3 AM’ - Another genre shift, back to the wonky bass and sharp hi-hats of the 80s and 90s R&B/pop ballads. The cheesy intro is almost a turn off, but there’s too much conviction here to pass up. The cadence is catchy, less about the words and more about the way they pierce and float at varying degrees of intensity. Not that the meaning isn’t important; again the Haim sisters have latched onto a near-universal feeling of annoyance and delivered it in a most convincing fashion. The little pick up notes are infectious.
‘Don’t Wanna’ - Right off the start this feels more in the vein of HAIM albums one and two. Stripped back instrumental that almost oversteps its bounds in the latter half of the track but manages to hold it together. Hope flies freely from the choruses here.
‘Another Try’ - Ska influenced overtones combine with ska influenced undertones to set the stage for a nice beach party, but storm clouds loom, and the hope so recently freed is nowhere to be seen. Wind sweeps the tables and chairs violently away as rain begins pouring forth from the dark sky. Lots of car metaphors. I forget sometimes, in my east coast megalopolis vehicular-less life, what it’s like to live behind the wheel. “If it don’t work, then it’s alright,” but is it, really? The over and undertones are covered in a blanket of vocal thoughts and percussive whims, a large question mark.
‘Leaning on You’ - I don’t have much time to contemplate where or when we are anymore before the words cut into my mind. The sisters have again quickly gotten to the root of a very personal feeling, peeled it down to its base layer, and reduced it to easily digestible pieces, all without lessening the feeling. Self-doubt, weariness, loneliness, all are amplified here, free for anyone to pick or choose what they relate to. The short but sweet guitar solo towards the end works to elevate the emotional space from an intimate gathering around a campfire (or computer) to a space of being and people and communion and togetherness.
‘I’ve Been Down’ - Another first-take rapid-fire kind of piece, less room to breath but more direct because of it. The patchwork treatment of the vocals adds to the feeling of internalization the lyrics represent. Oh, and the saxophone is back.
‘Man from the Magazine’ - Less personally accessible for me but obviously personal. No one has talked to or about me from a magazine, I don’t wear sunglasses, I’m not a girl, I’ve never bought a guitar, I don’t know how to play the guitar. I honestly try to avoid talking to strangers at all costs. I don’t know how it feels.
‘All That Ever Mattered’ - I latch immediately to the Roland D-50 synth stabs, the pace of the track, the lyrical treatment. I am excited about listening to this music. The production feels like a slight deviation from the rest of the project thus far but not by much; these roads have been here the whole time if not as explored. The lyrical story here is simpler, with the focus turning towards experimentation with rhythm and balance and texture. The chorus features an amazing scream from one of the sisters or sampled—either way it works in a way I’ve not seen a scream work, twisting its way through being melodic, percussive, and effectual all at once, like magic.
‘FUBT’ - Lyrical story takes center stage again. The mood here feels more grandiose, more finite. No less sad than previous tracks, but there is a sense that the end of this project is near, especially with the gasp-of-breath-cut-short ending.
‘Now I’m In It’ - Taking the energy from ‘All That Ever Mattered’ and running with it. Pulsing guitar riff leads the trio through a structure ever growing, waves crashing in and out but the tide constantly rising. Trap hi-hats sneak their way into the production and angelic pads open the dark clouds just enough to let a little light through. Post tour depression sums up the feeling well. It’s an unwanted part of the creative cycle, the low after the high, the prospect that nothing you make in the future will compare with what you (or others) have done in the past. Sometimes you never leave the ground. I guess that could be summed up as pre- peri- post- depression. Constant depression. Never having let your ideas stand on their own.
‘Hallelujah’ - An intimate look into the heads of the Haim sisters, an intimacy that begins to feel invasive, but I am thankful for the moment. Family, love, friends, loss. A vocal and instrumental treatment that stands on the shoulders of giants of the golden age of folk and country.
‘Summer Girl’ - And here it is, the end of the project. Back to the beginning but in a new light. The saxophone is back. It’s actually center stage this time. Hope abounds but it knows its place. There is no hope without hopelessness, no joy without despair. This project has taken me for a loop. Where I once thought there were too many styles, I now find harmony. Lyrics are not my strong suit, I guess I don’t like seeing myself in the mirrors of others. It’s time for change. “These are the earthquake drills that we ran/Under the freeway overpasses/The tears behind your dark sunglasses/The fears inside your heart’s deepest gashes/Walk beside me/Not behind me.” 🍍