8.4/10
Run for Cover records is home to many of the decade’s most promising and productive talents. Among its roster is the band Seahaven, whose latest LP ended up being one of my favorites from last year and Adventures, whose debut LP that came out recently will probably make my year-end list as well. Both of these groups, while seemingly dissimilar to each other, share a common thread that extends to and encapsulates the rest of their label mates, a thread that is not as much rooted in tradition as it is in a mutual love for music. Yes, the tags “emo revival” and “the wave” would fit them just fine, but there’s something more sincere underneath all that, a sort of disregard towards everything music-related except the music itself, an attitude that simply states “We’re doing what we love because we love doing it.”–a mentality every true artist should possess, really, aside from the burning desire to capture the sublime.
It should come as no surprise, then, that Turnover’s appeal lies not in their immediately-recognizable sound but rather in how they transcend it. Upon listening to a few tracks off their 2013 release Magnolia, I couldn’t help but compare them to some of Title Fight’s spacier stuff (I’m not referring to Hyperview) or the bulk of You Blew It! ‘s recent material, only a tad more stripped back and less suited for moshpits than they are for a contemplative car ride through the city at night. Part of the distinction originates from frontman / guitarist Austin Getz’s vocal delivery that never quite registers as loud. Even at his most aggressive, Austin maintains a subtle presence within the ceaselessly beautiful cacophony he helps create while adding just enough melody to elevate it into ecstatic heights. A familiar approach, sure, but few manage to execute it as seamlessly as Turnover do and with Peripheral Vision, they seem to have actually gotten better at it. Just don’t expect a Magnolia 2.0, though, because Peripheral Vision is, in some ways, unlike anything Turnover have done before.
If 90s post hardcore-inspired walls of guitar sound complemented by a sense of pop punk catchiness were what they had relied on to convey and carry a particular theme up until this point, they have certainly traded them in favor of jangly, intricate chord progressions and a spacious, reverb-soaked vocal style that seems to be the norm in indie rock circles nowadays. This transition is readily apparent and not once throughout the entirety of this record will you find any trace of the old Turnover, it’s almost like they broke up and reformed under a new name and we all know how that usually turns out; either the group make good use of the gained momentum and come through with a solid release or, inversely, remind us of how much better off they would’ve been had they stayed broken up. With Peripheral Vision, I think you will agree that this incarnation of Turnover don’t belong to the worst of the two. Because if you’re familiar with the music of A Sunny Day in Glasgow, Wild Nothing or Beach Fossils (whom Austin credited for being an influence during the writing of this record), you’re also familiar with what makes it so appealing; its undeniable catchiness. A trait that translates well into Peripheral Vision. It goes without saying that fans of those groups will find much to like here while simultaneously realizing that the genre still has unexplored potential.
What might put them off, however, is the obvious and intentional divide between those groups’ lyrical content and Turnover’s. While the former keeps things ambiguous so as to encourage different interpretations and eliminate any possibility of things getting personal, the latter insists on telling the story just the way it was always meant to be told; without head-scratching metaphors and incongruity. The opening verse on “Cutting My Fingers Off” is a testament to this wherein Austin softly sings “I found the picture that we took when we brought in the new year / it’s hard to see but I remember.” clearly there’s nothing to overanalyze here because the guy is simply saying he found the picture he took with his close friend when they celebrated new year’s and that it’s hard to see but he remembers. As the song progresses you find out that at some point he confessed his love to her but circumstances forced them to grow apart and even now when they’ve practically become strangers, he hasn’t been able to move on. It’s the kind of romance that’s easily understood and always relatable considering its highly common nature in that you could be the most pathetic, girlfriendless loser in the world and you’d still understand what’s being talked about. The remaining 35+ minutes of this record pretty much functions on the same level, at least lyrically, so if you’re looking to hear something other than what you can also find on a John Green novel, you’re not gonna find it here. In fact, whereas a John Green novel thrives on bombarding your psyche with cringeworthy dialogue until your IQ has dropped low enough to ensure susceptibility, Peripheral Vision demands nothing from its audience at all.
ASASI 