GutterPutter

For a start, Cigarettes After Sex is an American dream pop band whose origins lie in El Pasos, Texas. Consisting of Greg Gonzales on lead guitar and vocals, Randall Miller on bass, and Jacob Tomsky on drums, the three had largely stuck together since around 2008. Over 15 years, the band made a name out of themselves for their androgynous vocals, sensual atmosphere, and downtempo beat that is reminiscent of slowcore which leads to a lot of fans. With around three studio albums now, two demos, one popular self-released extended play, and a dozen singles with a lot of popularity like “Apocalypse” and “Affection”, the band is a household name.

I initially got into the band back in around 2019 I think? Chances are, it might actually be a bit earlier in the next few months after I made my YouTube account. I thought that their music was nice. Gonzales’s singing had a certain angelic touch that made him blend in perfectly with the reverberation-driven production, the bassline by Miller was a highlight in keeping everything compact together, and the simple percussion helped to not overshadow the whole vibe. The guitar’s mixing ebbs and flows depending on how relevant it is to the intention of the track if it helps to add a certain romantic sensation to it. It’s the kind of texture that allows you to wallow in an atmosphere that comes after a one-night stand.

Here’s the problem. That’s virtually the same kind of music that they have been making for what is essentially their entire existence. As soon as you begin X’s with the title track, you know for sure what to get. The sweet-talk about getting your partner up from bed, the echoing bass and drum, the seductive lingering from the voice, you’ve already heard of it before. Yet, that’s not the only part about the album that grinds my gear. You could potentially click on any of the other tracks and it might as well be the same. There’s virtually no diversity outside of a couple of metronomic changes (that I appreciate to an extent) and the mixing of whatever instrument matters more. ‘Hideaway’? A couple drinking before going off on a presumed riding session, the drumming comparable to a heartbeat alongside some legato from the bass. ‘Hot’? Post-makeout angst distress with some guitar interlude that’s from some shelved Low experiment.

Okay, let’s try and move on to the other tracks and see what else is worth saying about them. I’ll try and say something nice. ‘Tejano Blues’ has some nice instances of ASMR. Wait, wouldn’t that be the same as in ‘Dark Vacay’? Maybe if you decide to pay a bit of attention, listen to how nice and twinkly the guitar sounds in the background. Crumbs, ‘Dreams From Bunker Hill’ has that as well and the best part about it is that it’s sludged up with the other instruments as well. Anything to truly capture the epic highs and lows of post-fornication clarity that Rivers Cuomo needs for his space opera. If only such music had been made back in that time…

Let’s try and see if there are any more distinguishing features that could be discerned between the songs. ‘Silver Sable’, a brilliant homage to the good ol’ days when anime waifus were, at best, in their prototypical phase as a phenomenon and where it’s culturally acceptable to vocally thirst for comic book pin-ups. Let’s try and use that as the main metaphor for keeping it in a “friends with benefits” stage. ‘Holding You, Holding Me’, a truly romantic demonstration of love about physical affection that’s done in a way that’s comparable to Air Supply. You know, the band whose songs consist largely of how it’s fine to develop codependent feelings to your crush or partner without an acknowledgement on the potential pitfalls in your relationship. ‘Ambien Slide’, it’s an ending, I guess? Also, the bassline reminds me of Spoon’s ‘I Put My Camera On’ which is a complete banger in itself.

Naming whatever track stands out in the whole album would be a Herculean task. An equivalent, in one of my frankest take, to finding ‘Naive’ by the Kooks amidst all of the post-Whatever People Say I Am, That’s What I’m Not hype in the United Kingdom that’s not made by Arctic Monkey or Bloc Party. I kid you not, the sheer self-derivation is so complete in its soullessness, its utter lack of charm, the banality of its insipidity that you thought that it’s endorsed by an entire board of out-of-touch executives who thought that they were quirky. Mind if I warn you that they are signed to Partisan Records and Spanish Prayers who are both independent labels. There is no way in the last forty years of independent music history that someone decided to listen to their music and not only not get bored of it, but had concluded that the best way to not make their audience bored is by making it a hundred times. Scrap that, order a million, amazing artistry! The answer to the highlight question by the way is that it’s ‘Baby Blue Movie’ as the tempo is a lot quicker than what amounts to all of the other tracks.

“But there are other bands like Cigarettes After Sex who have made the same music throughout their entire history and they haven’t been called out for it!” Well, my good friend, I know a lot of names whose music might appear to be the same on the surface, but it has actually undergone a lot of subtle switches between each record. Hop Along’s classic indie rock style flips around with different concepts, alternating between socially conscious themes and bright spots of introspection all the while Frances Quinlan sticks with their poppy songwriting. A Tribe Called Quest’s final album updates their alternative jazz rap to new heights by incorporating some of their most politically charged lyrics at its time. The Smiths, no matter how much of a nitwit Morrissey’s takes might be, swaps around veganism, anti-monarchism, everyday woes, and death ideation. I could go on! At least the fans might enjoy their money’s worth with this.

Take my advice, you deserve music that’s a lot more refreshing than this shtick. For a start, legends like Pavement or Modest Mouse might be the kind of names that you are already familiar with, but they show just how expansive indie rock can be with their style. For dream pop, pick up Beach House for a similar bit of androgynous vocals and romantic themes with actual dynamism in their song structure and instrumentation. Compare, for instance, ‘Take Care’ with ‘Zebra’, ‘Norway’ or ‘Lover of Mine’ in 2010’s Teen Dream. The exact same album, mind you. Slowcore, Matt Elliott’s Drinking Songs for its despondent depiction of loneliness or Carissa Wierd’s Songs About Leaving as the platonic ideal for the genre at its most depressive. Anything with an ounce of creative bloodlust is worth taking over this hollow sack of uninspirational trash. I am offended that artists like Cigarettes After Sex won over more listeners than other, more driven acts.

0.4/5