Sundials – When I Couldn’t Breathe (Asian Man)
Sundials have always been a personal favorite. Even so, there has been a level of disbelief that this is the same band that pulled together their debut album, Never Settle, last year. While that record was stellar, they seem to have improved every aspect of the band along the way to When I Couldn’t Breathe. Their new record could only exist as a result of significant growth and experience.
Sundials – When I Couldn’t Breathe (Asian Man)
Sundials have always been a personal favorite. Even so, there has been a level of disbelief that this is the same band that pulled together their debut album, Never Settle, last year. While that record was stellar, they seem to have improved every aspect of the band along the way to When I Couldn’t Breathe. Their new record could only exist as a result of significant growth and experience. The foundation of Sundials’ sound on past recordings was solid and required little to no tinkering. Yet this current release offered the band an opportunity to expand on the expectations of their audience. It didn’t hurt that they now had the backing of Asian Man Records–and knowing they were going to be a part of that label’s considerable legacy probably raised the bar a bit. Sundials rose to the occasion and orchestrated a phenomenal shift, resulting in an excellent realization of their potential, which has been captured on When I Couldn’t Breathe.
The stories that are included here are observational, hopeful, and tragic. “710” opens everything up with a tale of the past burning away (in a quite literal house fire) and trying to find the strength to move forward. This song provides a solid indication of what When I Couldn’t Breathe was attempting to accomplish. The fuzziness of “710” demonstrates that this isn’t the same band that was easily compared to The Lemonheads and Superchunk in the past. Their new material features strong musical cues and nods that feel tastefully removed from Jawbreaker, Hot Water Music, The Lawrence Arms, and Alkaline Trio. “New York Crunch” may be one of the more familiar tracks on When I Couldn’t Breathe–it’s been a long-standing tune in their setlists and it feels the most at home with their previous output. It’s also strong accompaniment for “710” on the album’s track list. Where “710” is about a desire for lost familiarity, “New York Crunch” describes the antithesis of that feeling. The song’s narrator wants nothing to do with his home, which lacked opportunity and created constant dread that some major component of life was missing.
The remainder of the album does not let up, and indeed, lends itself towards rewarding repeat listens. “Completely Broken” is a strong anthem for anyone regularly commuting by bicycle, discussing the fear that accompanies their relationship with automobiles. “Mosby Blues” was an early favorite on the album, providing a nice reminder of the varied corridors of Richmond, which lend a strong sense of place to Sundials’ lyrical storytelling. “Some Kind of Time” is clearly the standout track; it slowly builds to one of the best tempo transitions I have heard in a while, coming as a surprise the first time you hear it and growing crazed and intense within seconds. Every subsequent listen will find you eagerly anticipating this moment. This song leaves a lingering desire for repeat plays–but then, so does every song on this album.
The efforts of Harris Mendell as a songwriter deserve tremendous acclaim. His skills have undergone a huge transition between Never Settle and this current release. In my review of their last record, I mentioned that the more overtly political tunes felt a bit off. Since writing that, I’ve come to feel that I was incorrect. As it turned out, many of the songs I labeled that way ended up becoming favorites. However, there is still a noticeable improvement in his work here. What sets the writing on this record apart from his past musings is the confidence that is on display. Instead of reminiscing on past loves, only tying in political ideology on occasion, he takes himself out of the equation in many of these songs. When I Couldn’t Breathe draws mainly on memories of places that no longer exist, or seem unfamiliar now. This less intimate perspective has the effect of making Mendell’s lyrics more universally relatable, and not as strictly tied to Richmond. Places like Mosby Court or the burned-down house in Oregon Hill could exist in any town in America.
Sundials isn’t strictly a vehicle for Mendell’s songwriting. The rhythm section of bassist Carl Athey and drummer Cory Chubb fully animate the band’s musical landscapes. Athey’s accompanying vocal harmonies are also prominent throughout, and help to elevate every chorus to new heights. Athey comes from a school of thought that does not see basslines as strictly contained to root notes. Strong grooves and limitless ambitions burst from every line with which he tastefully accentuates Mendell’s progressions. Chubb also demonstrates an unfiltered rhythmic prowess, helping to channel quick turns in every track.
Every great band in the punk scene has their landmark album. Hot Water Music has No Division, The Lawrence Arms have The Greatest Story Ever Told, Dillinger Four has Midwestern Songs of the Americas, and Latterman has No Matter Where We Go. It’s safe to say that When I Couldn’t Breathe deserves inclusion on a list like this, and it’s even more appropriate that this album is the first contribution Sundials have made to the storied history of Asian Man Records.
