Charmer – Downpour | Album Review
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Counter Intuitive Records
Although native to Marquette’s isolated and jagged shores, Charmer is not defined by their surroundings. The group’s third full-length, Downpour, is their first in five years and features the unit ditching their quintessential Midwest noodling for gain-drenched riffage. While they have mostly retired their habitual twinkles, the “woe-is-me” slant of their writing remains in the best way possible.
The Midwest collective has unleashed a slew of releases across their near-decade-long run, but the last extensive bout we’ve heard from them was the blighted sophomore LP, Ivy. Released in April of 2020, the band had no idea the precipice that society was teetering on. The release was largely successful, featuring some of the best emo of the 20s, however, the inability to capitalize on its potential with a tour suddenly brought the group’s headway to a halt. Forced to put their momentous plans on hold due to the worldwide pandemic, Charmer had little say in watching their hard work wither.
In a dimly poetic way, Ivy suffers from the very fate it was built on. The jinxed album plays like the inability to let things go—gripping to every last part of youth-imbued relationships because an existence without them appears too damn bleak. While Ivy is about the grueling skirmish with the refusal to let old flames burn out, Downpour is a record about shouldering the weight of new obstacles while old ones never truly settle.
Charmer’s introduction to the release capitalizes on that very idea, as track one, “Linger,” is upfront with the idea that old wounds seldom heal without scars. It begins with a modestly catchy melody that's trailed by a euphoric blanket of reverb and feedback. The true commencement of the album comes 30 seconds into the song when the group swings into view. Amidst the completely necessary berating of the snare and kick drum combo, vocalist/guitarist David Daignault beckons, “I’ll leave this bloody mess buried in the winter, I’ll let this linger.” As blistering of an opening as any, the emotional weight of Downpour lingers from side A to B.
The band’s sharp pivot from sometimes awkward and quirky sitcom-inspired Midwest emo to punchy, anthemic punk is on full display throughout the work. Gems like “Arrowhead,” “Blue Jay,” and “Medicine” make for a savage combo to start the album. While the aforementioned tracks play similarly, each offers unique catchiness and replayability. In the avian-themed cut, “Blue Jay,” we hear Daignault plead, “Swallowed by the south beach, can you hear my heartbeat slowly? Northern downpour missed me.” In the inspiring chorus, the lyrics divulge a vital moment in time, which is repeatedly dwelt on, drop by drop. “Blue Jay” tips the listener off on Downpour’s climatic theatrics – the LP is less about the weather and more about how sharply our forecast on life turns dark.
As nightmarish and unrelenting as a downpour might feel, oftentimes we curse the ground we roam in a feeble attempt to fathom the things we cannot control. Downpour is not only a commentary on the trials and tribulations of silently bearing adult responsibilities, but also a reflection on how we unconsciously project our frustrations onto our surroundings. Charmer does not blame their misfortune on the rugged cliffs of Marquette; instead, they took the opportunity to submerge themselves in Lake Superior and be born anew. Because this record feels like a debut to the members, it comes with the head-rushing excitement of something fresh.
Despite the forceful shift in sound, Charmer leans on their twinkle-emo roots in some capacity throughout the album. Latter half highlight, “Watercolor,” is a standout in this sense, with whiny, nostalgia-infected lyrics declaring a yearning for the naive past, “Remember when we were young? Do you miss being 21?” The combination of sounds is fondly reminiscent of the 2010-era Run For Cover roster that spearheaded the new wave movement of youth, music, and culture.
The same can be said for single “Rose Thorns,” which snuck its way onto this album but blends in seamlessly. Steered by crashing cymbals and overdriven guitar pedals, the band’s rather grotesque and murky tilt lyrically spells out the slow but sure process of getting over someone: “Rose thorns weave through my eyes, dull bloodshot blue skies.” The track was initially released as a one-off in October of 2023 when all we’d seen from the band was a much gloomier and spacey EP in Seney Stretch from earlier that year. This track, in hindsight, was a smoke signal from the group that they were not nearly done. Again, Charmer consistently refers to their surroundings in the context of their conflicts: “Falling in the lake, count the state signs to stay awake.” It’s in this case where Daignault largely looks to his hometown for solace amid an agonizing affair with relinquishing connection.
Seemingly condemned to the isolating town of Marquette in the upper reaches of Michigan, maybe Charmer is defined by their surroundings. Perhaps they are shaped by the weather, much like the rest of us. Against our delusions that suggest we have power over our atmosphere or how it can affect our lives, those factors influence our every step, for better or worse. Like Charmer, we should strive to reinvent ourselves; to evolve and seek inspiration even in isolation. When the group swings, they seldom miss – and if another world-shifting event were to roll in tomorrow, there is little doubt that Charmer would rally, pulling inspiration from their lives and the seclusion of their town.
Brandon Cortez is a sometimes-writer/musician and a frequent emo-enjoyer nestled in the West Texas city of El Paso with his fiancée and two cats. In a futile effort to escape EP’s blistering heat, you can find him perpetually adjusting his fantasy football lineups and smothering his shortcomings in homemade Americanos. Find him on Twitter @numetalrev.
