Rocker (feedbot)
Gold Member
Anyone who wasn’t a teenager when ‘Peripheral Vision’ dropped in 2015 probably wouldn’t get what all the fuss is about. But for those who spent countless hours lying on bedroom floors letting Austin Getz’s dreamy vocals wash over them like some kind of musical hypnotherapy, Saturday night at the Roundhouse is one for the history books.
Ten years on and Turnover are still doing that thing where they make soul-crushingly depressing music; but it’s fine because it sounds so pretty. The Virginia quartet walk onto the stage looking like they’d rather be anywhere else (classic), but the moment they kick into ‘Cutting My Fingers Off,’ the packed Camden crowd collectively loses their shit in the most polite, emo way possible. The thing about playing any album in full is that it could easily be a disaster. Anniversary tours are often cash grabs where bands phone it in harder than your mate trying to get out of Sunday plans when hungover. Turnover, though, have clearly been living and growing with these songs over the past decade, and it shows. The opener feels less like a nostalgic throwback and more like they’d just written it yesterday, but with ten years of road-worn wisdom behind it.
‘New Scream’ and ‘Humming’ flow seamlessly, building Turnover’s signature wall of hazy guitars that makes half the room close their eyes and sway. By the time ‘Hello Euphoria’ kicks in, you can feel the collective emotional release. It’s a weird thing, watching 2,000 people find comfort in shared melancholy, but there’s something beautiful and moving about it. Their magnum opus, ‘Dizzy on the Comedown’ is spiritual, and ‘Diazepam’ hits like a gut-punch, as expected. This band has a talent for producing tracks that feel like they were written specifically for anyone who’s ever stared at their ceiling at 3am wondering what the point of anything is, and tonight is no exception. Getz’s vocals have matured over the past decade, carrying more weight while retaining the vulnerable quality that made these songs so relatable in the first place.
‘Like Slow Disappearing’ and ‘Take My Head’ prove why this album worked so well as a complete listening experience rather than as a collection of singles. It’s no mean feat to embark on an anniversary tour that feels nothing like a cash grab and everything like a journey. In this respect, Turnover really show up tonight. Tracks like the previous two create space between the more immediate moments, letting the dreamy atmosphere completely settle, before building towards the show’s emotional apex of ‘I Would Hate You If I Could.’ Some deeper cuts follow, before they close with ‘Most Of The Time’, and suddenly, it’s 2015 again. The crowd knows every single word to every single song, which is a testament to ‘Peripheral Vision’; it gave a generation permission to feel their feelings without apology.
The Roundhouse can be a bit hit-and-miss in terms of sound engineering, but everything is crystal clear. You can hear every dreamy guitar layer, every perfectly placed drum fill, and Getz’s vocals sit right where they need to be. The lighting is moody without being pretentious, which is harder to pull off than you’d think.
If you’re expecting massive sing-alongs and crowd surfers, you’ve come to the wrong gig. This is about 90 minutes of beautifully crafted melancholy, delivered by a band who clearly still believe in these songs. Turnover prove that some albums can age like a fine wine. For anyone who’s ever felt like the world’s a bit too much (which anyone who has eyes and ears probably does right now), ‘Peripheral Vision’ remains essential listening. Hearing it live, in full, with a room full of people who clearly needed these songs just as much as you once did, is something special.
KATHRYN EDWARDS
Ten years on and Turnover are still doing that thing where they make soul-crushingly depressing music; but it’s fine because it sounds so pretty. The Virginia quartet walk onto the stage looking like they’d rather be anywhere else (classic), but the moment they kick into ‘Cutting My Fingers Off,’ the packed Camden crowd collectively loses their shit in the most polite, emo way possible. The thing about playing any album in full is that it could easily be a disaster. Anniversary tours are often cash grabs where bands phone it in harder than your mate trying to get out of Sunday plans when hungover. Turnover, though, have clearly been living and growing with these songs over the past decade, and it shows. The opener feels less like a nostalgic throwback and more like they’d just written it yesterday, but with ten years of road-worn wisdom behind it.
‘New Scream’ and ‘Humming’ flow seamlessly, building Turnover’s signature wall of hazy guitars that makes half the room close their eyes and sway. By the time ‘Hello Euphoria’ kicks in, you can feel the collective emotional release. It’s a weird thing, watching 2,000 people find comfort in shared melancholy, but there’s something beautiful and moving about it. Their magnum opus, ‘Dizzy on the Comedown’ is spiritual, and ‘Diazepam’ hits like a gut-punch, as expected. This band has a talent for producing tracks that feel like they were written specifically for anyone who’s ever stared at their ceiling at 3am wondering what the point of anything is, and tonight is no exception. Getz’s vocals have matured over the past decade, carrying more weight while retaining the vulnerable quality that made these songs so relatable in the first place.
‘Like Slow Disappearing’ and ‘Take My Head’ prove why this album worked so well as a complete listening experience rather than as a collection of singles. It’s no mean feat to embark on an anniversary tour that feels nothing like a cash grab and everything like a journey. In this respect, Turnover really show up tonight. Tracks like the previous two create space between the more immediate moments, letting the dreamy atmosphere completely settle, before building towards the show’s emotional apex of ‘I Would Hate You If I Could.’ Some deeper cuts follow, before they close with ‘Most Of The Time’, and suddenly, it’s 2015 again. The crowd knows every single word to every single song, which is a testament to ‘Peripheral Vision’; it gave a generation permission to feel their feelings without apology.
The Roundhouse can be a bit hit-and-miss in terms of sound engineering, but everything is crystal clear. You can hear every dreamy guitar layer, every perfectly placed drum fill, and Getz’s vocals sit right where they need to be. The lighting is moody without being pretentious, which is harder to pull off than you’d think.
If you’re expecting massive sing-alongs and crowd surfers, you’ve come to the wrong gig. This is about 90 minutes of beautifully crafted melancholy, delivered by a band who clearly still believe in these songs. Turnover prove that some albums can age like a fine wine. For anyone who’s ever felt like the world’s a bit too much (which anyone who has eyes and ears probably does right now), ‘Peripheral Vision’ remains essential listening. Hearing it live, in full, with a room full of people who clearly needed these songs just as much as you once did, is something special.
KATHRYN EDWARDS