Rocker (feedbot)
Platinum Member
H_ngm_n have been peddling their own take on emo for several years now; stripped back, two-piece and contemporary, yet capable of reaching anthemic highs that evoke mid-2000s pop punk bands like Motion City Soundtrack and Fall Out Boy. ‘Paper Street’ is their debut album – released almost a decade after their first single – and it crashes with confidence and maturity. This is a band whose music feels like an intimate part of them that has grown alongside themselves over the years, and ‘Paper Street’ is a graduation party.
It speaks to the band’s confidence in this collection of songs that half of them have already been released as singles. ‘Paper Street’ opens with the one-two punch of ‘Spotlight’ and ‘Reach Out’. Both self-deprecating and optimistic, ‘Spotlight’ showcases the album’s core themes of ageing, adult frustrations and a genuine yearning to grow. Guitarist and vocalist Chris Childs slips through rhythmic complexity with Justin Pierre-esque relish in both vocals and guitars, hitting a nostalgic note without sounding tired.
‘Reach Out’ hits a slightly softer tone, though is no less infectious. Sparser moments of guitar allow tight and deceptive drums to keep the energy rising. This is the joy of a good duo – the instruments have to really sing to each other to carry the music. ‘Lost’, our first non-single, demonstrates this well. High energy, pared back drums complement more intricate guitars, creating something driving, darker, and yet still just as catchy as any of the singles.
“I can’t commit to these words / No I can’t commit to anything,” sings Childs in ‘Nothing Personal’ – an ironic statement given how long H_ngm_n have been writing and performing. Despite this, it strikes at the heart of the theme of ‘Paper Street’. Life is riddled both with mind-wracking anxieties and simple truths, often simultaneously; love even more so. It’s apt, then, that these songs often hold simplicity and complexity together in one hand, a musical echo that informs the theme as much as the lyrics.
It’s also telling that the non-single tracks tend to be darker both musically and thematically; even in their names: ‘Lost’, ‘Hungover’, ‘Words’, ‘Three Hours Sleep’, and ‘Six Coffees’. Taken together, it’s a short ode to exhaustion. With most of them packed into the back half of the album, it takes a turn towards melancholy at the halfway point. Still, every song keeps its hook with an inescapable catchiness. Somehow, “How can you feel so alone / With all the people you know” becomes a singalong moment.
This darker second half has its emotional nadir in ‘Six Coffees’. It’s slow and mournful, with lyrics narrating a decaying relationship and only a softly played electric guitar underneath – until the drums hit for one anthemic chorus at the end, taking us into ‘Ghosts’. The last single to release, and the final song on the album proper, ‘Ghosts’ feels like a musical summation of ‘Paper Street’ as a whole. It is built around its hook, rising and falling and rising again as it winds between itself and builds towards a final, triumphant chorus.
‘Paper Ghost’ doesn’t feel like a debut album. It feels like what it really is – a musical partnership that is flourishing after nearly a decade of releasing music, and a celebration of life. Its confidence allows it, with full oxymoronic force, to explore anxiety, to marry darkness with levity, and to infuse nostalgia with a modern edge.
WILL BRIGHT
It speaks to the band’s confidence in this collection of songs that half of them have already been released as singles. ‘Paper Street’ opens with the one-two punch of ‘Spotlight’ and ‘Reach Out’. Both self-deprecating and optimistic, ‘Spotlight’ showcases the album’s core themes of ageing, adult frustrations and a genuine yearning to grow. Guitarist and vocalist Chris Childs slips through rhythmic complexity with Justin Pierre-esque relish in both vocals and guitars, hitting a nostalgic note without sounding tired.
‘Reach Out’ hits a slightly softer tone, though is no less infectious. Sparser moments of guitar allow tight and deceptive drums to keep the energy rising. This is the joy of a good duo – the instruments have to really sing to each other to carry the music. ‘Lost’, our first non-single, demonstrates this well. High energy, pared back drums complement more intricate guitars, creating something driving, darker, and yet still just as catchy as any of the singles.
“I can’t commit to these words / No I can’t commit to anything,” sings Childs in ‘Nothing Personal’ – an ironic statement given how long H_ngm_n have been writing and performing. Despite this, it strikes at the heart of the theme of ‘Paper Street’. Life is riddled both with mind-wracking anxieties and simple truths, often simultaneously; love even more so. It’s apt, then, that these songs often hold simplicity and complexity together in one hand, a musical echo that informs the theme as much as the lyrics.
It’s also telling that the non-single tracks tend to be darker both musically and thematically; even in their names: ‘Lost’, ‘Hungover’, ‘Words’, ‘Three Hours Sleep’, and ‘Six Coffees’. Taken together, it’s a short ode to exhaustion. With most of them packed into the back half of the album, it takes a turn towards melancholy at the halfway point. Still, every song keeps its hook with an inescapable catchiness. Somehow, “How can you feel so alone / With all the people you know” becomes a singalong moment.
This darker second half has its emotional nadir in ‘Six Coffees’. It’s slow and mournful, with lyrics narrating a decaying relationship and only a softly played electric guitar underneath – until the drums hit for one anthemic chorus at the end, taking us into ‘Ghosts’. The last single to release, and the final song on the album proper, ‘Ghosts’ feels like a musical summation of ‘Paper Street’ as a whole. It is built around its hook, rising and falling and rising again as it winds between itself and builds towards a final, triumphant chorus.
‘Paper Ghost’ doesn’t feel like a debut album. It feels like what it really is – a musical partnership that is flourishing after nearly a decade of releasing music, and a celebration of life. Its confidence allows it, with full oxymoronic force, to explore anxiety, to marry darkness with levity, and to infuse nostalgia with a modern edge.
WILL BRIGHT