When pianist Marc-André Hamelin plays For Bunita Marcus in concert he doesn't really mind if people drift off for a momentary snooze. A study in contrasts, After Laughter doesn't run away after all, its makers know the only way to make it through turmoil is with a little tenacity.
Cast against a technicolor background, Williams is honest about anxiety, imperfection, betrayal and depression. From the skittering Afropop guitar of "Hard Times" to the twinkling marimba of "Pool" to the shouts on "Rose-Colored Boy," After Laughter leans on its luster while reckoning with reality, retaining the lyrical vulnerability of Paramore's past while refusing to succumb to the gravity of its subject matter. They're just bathed in neon and glitter and an '80s inspired sound.
Even though the majority of its 12 tracks shimmer and sparkle, After Laughter isn't an avoidance of reality rather, the record finds Hayley Williams, Taylor York and Zac Farro engaging with despair. Its slick sound makes much of After Laughter appear to be such a pop circumvention. Rather than confront what's at hand, we avoid, ignore or retreat. In tumultuous times, escapism can often feel like the only viable option.
0 kommentar(er)
