Able Baker – Able Baker | Album Review
/
Self-Released
Don’t you like it when rock music just fucking rocks? I love it when rock music just fucking rocks. That was the only thought in my head while watching Able Baker at Union Pool back in April. The entire time frontman Tim Anderson and his band played, I had the biggest smile on my face and turned to my friend multiple times to mouth “wow.” From the moment they opened with “All The Bars” into the absolutely massive tune “Steeper Stairs,” Able Baker held me in thrall with their perfect hooks and ecstatic guitar solos.
I was at that show to see Sunshy, whose dreamy LP, I don’t care what comes next, has become one of my main comfort records. Sunshy indeed transported me with their swirls of guitar, but when I left, I was desperate to hear those Able Baker songs again. Now that Able Baker has finally dropped their self-titled LP, I can re-experience those highs and have come to realize how much more there is to the band than just pure ecstasy.
Tim Anderson has been toiling away crafting songs as Able Baker since 2016’s “Play One on TV.” Anderson hadn’t yet developed the Elliott Smith-esque voice that defines how he sings now—gentle yet disarmingly candid—but you can hear the bones of what makes this batch of songs so exciting. 2021’s Spiral Bound Songs and subsequent singles saw him refine his craft with a close group of collaborators, namely producers Isaac deBroux-Slone and Logan Severson. Together, those two draw out the intimate details in Anderson’s songwriting while making the performances sound absolutely massive. And those performances, delivered by Sunshy members Gwen Giedeman, Jordan Zamansky, and Eric Breden, as well as notable contributions by guitarist Graham Hunt and cellist Chaepter Negro, are perfectly attuned to the songs they serve: loose, limber, and full of summery joy on the ragers, paranoid and ragged on the tracks that seethe.
Of the tracks Able Baker played back at Union Pool, the one that caught its hooks deepest into the folds of my brain was “In Your Town.” Why that one? Because it is a perfect piece of Weezer-y pop rock, the kind that hits you in the chest and reminds you, oh yeah, I have to breathe. The verses ride a bobbing guitar melody that briefly quiets as Anderson sings “something’s always the matter in your town” before the chorus hits you in the gut. As the band crescendos behind Anderson belting out the title, I dare you not to feel alive.
Anderson is a master of crafting these exhilarating, Photo Album-era Death Cab for Cutie-like dynamics. He’s always subtly tweaking moments to achieve maximum impact. Where the first pre-chorus of “In Your Town” has the band building to Anderson’s repeated assertion, the second attempt gets only one run-through, and a guitar rips into the mix before he can even get out the word “town.” It doesn’t even sound like he gets more than the letter T out. He may, but you won’t hear it in the mix. It is a perfect moment of the music fully embodying the mood of the track. The guitar picks up where words fall short.
“In Your Town” isn’t the only moment on Able Baker where the band pulls off these moments of perfect rock songcraft. Put the record on shuffle, and whichever song plays will be full of examples. “The Word” rushes through the verses to get to the choruses because what matters is the bridge into the final, wordless chorus. The band stretches out on the bridge, throwing in enough drum fills to last a lesser band's entire discography as the bass line locks into this sublime rhythm that makes me smile every time I hear it. Then when the chorus comes back, it’s somehow even bigger than before. “Secret Admirer” pulls the opposite trick. Anderson is a paranoid mess the whole song, singing “I would die if the secret got out.” The band rockets out of the second chorus with an epic guitar solo and pounding drums accentuating the thrill of being exposed, a section that must be building to something, but then it all collapses; there is no grand conclusion here. It is a moment of hope that gets crushed down. When the main riff comes back right at the end, quieter than it started the song, it is a moment of pure devastation.
I didn’t get that devastation back in April. Only by running these tracks back have I reveled in how provocative they are. I wasn’t wrong in my initial assessment that “Steeper Stairs” is a massive tune, but now I’m lost in the yearning to reach through the mirror of memory alongside Anderson. It’s as if the recursive dialogue and images of Last Year at Marienbad were boiled into a rock song.
I would like to retract my prior suggestion to shuffle the record, because Able Baker aren’t just good at structuring song dynamics. Able Baker is a perfectly sequenced record. They slot these softer, gentler songs like the acoustic filmic “Noir” and the hazy “Picture Pose” into the running order to give their distorted pop epics space to breathe. That’s not to say these songs only exist to break up the running order. “Picture Pose” rides a beautiful, dreamy vibe to transcendence as Anderson sings “you’re done with self love / it’s time to self destruct” while “Noir” references the titular film genre over a folky stunner.
One of the great things about really good rock music is that no matter how hard I try to put into words what Able Baker makes me feel, I’ll never get across what exactly it is like to listen. So if you like really good rock music, the kind that really just fucking rocks, I can’t tell you to go listen to Able Baker enough. Please, go hear what it feels like.
Lillian Weber is a fake librarian in NYC. She writes about gender, music, and other inane thoughts on her Substack, all my selves aligned. You can follow her on Insta @Lilllianmweber.
