Veronica Falls – Waiting for Something to Happen

What I Think of When I Think of This Artist (part 2)

I’ve been listening to Veronica Falls almost non-stop for several weeks now. This sort of compulsion is nothing new. Typically, compulsive behaviors are employed to drive out intrusive thoughts or to minimize the anxiety those thoughts produce. I’m not sure that’s how it works for me. I suspect the music actually makes me dwell on my feelings more. It might be soothing at first to listen to the music, but when the music stops I need to hear it again, because the feelings are still there and I feel exposed. So I play it again but the music itself has become associated with the feelings, so hearing it only reinforces them. Eventually, I break free, but it can take some time. I spent 30 days in El Paso for work earlier this year, and every day for about two weeks, I listened to the same three Tullycraft covers during my commute, over and over again (and truth be told, I really just focused on one song – “Our Days In Kansas” – and the other two were mostly just to pretend I wasn’t completely insane, as if a diet of three songs is appreciably more normal).

What I Think of This Album

I’m very into this Veronica Falls album. The cymbals sound strange, and it lacks the icy mystery of the debut, but it also strikes me as a much more romantic set of songs. And by romantic, I of course mean that tragic sadness of forgotten hopes, abandoned dreams, and discarded desires. Those songs serve to remind you of the very things you forgot, abandoned, and discarded – not that you need or want the reminder – while at the same time producing a sense of gratitude for the existence of a collection of four random strangers who can articulate such feelings, and marry them to delightful melodies, too. Over and over. And that is something that you need and want, even if it is a poor substitute for the things you truly need and want, and even if in the end it leaves you more hollowed out than you already were.

The specific moments that tear me apart and put me back together again just to reduce me to ashes once more include the title track’s cascading harmonies, the string-bending coda of “Teenage,” the empathic lyrics of “Broken Toy,” the warmth of “Everybody’s Changing,” the sorrowful mien of “Buried Alive,” and “Falling Out”’s rising/falling melody.

The band broke up after this album. Drummer Patrick Doyle died in 2018; he is pictured on the back cover of Belle and Sebastian’s The Life Pursuit.

The Best Thing About This Album

“Everybody’s crazy / What’s your excuse, baby?”

Release Date

February, 2013

The Cover Art

Not as good as the debut, but still pretty fucking good. There is a sort of Vampire Weekend feel to this. I wish the model wasn’t wearing a watch.

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