4 out of 5

Label: Level Plane Records

Produced by: Hrishikesh Hirway

When I was collecting Level Plane Records releases, and picked up One AM Radio’s Name Writ in Water – not knowing the band beforehand – the somber, gray-hued cover photo and the stately album title assured me, alongside LP’s hardcore punk / noise roster, that I’d be getting some kind gothic emo thing, with lots of grind and screaming.

Instead, I got twee electro pop.

Perhaps not coincidentally, I stopped collecting Level Plane soon after, and the label shut its doors not too long after that.

(Okay, not really on the latter part.)

A lot of hardcore labels were doing this kind of “and here’s that super heavy acoustic album” thing at the time, which generally felt as shticky as that sounds, but I could often at least trace the ‘why’ of the release to it being so-and-sos side project or whatever. With Hrishikesh Hirway, though – the man behind One AM – while some early singles paired him with emo / screamo acts, there’s not really a clear lineage to Level Plane, and then goddamn Time Out gave Name Writ an album of the year nod, in a musical era rife with Shins and Postal Services and the like. All my little indie metal cred nerves were shaking. …And the album has sat on my shelf, essentially unlistened to, ever since.

(Reminder: I am the coolest person you know.)

Though none of this preamble is necessary,  I allow myself such indulgences to, hopefully, better frame my review – to make it more substantial when my bias is overcome to consider an already acclaimed album as… pretty darn great indeed.

The softspoken, bedroom pop of AM’s guitar strums, electro beats and strings won’t sound too far off from your average Sub Popper of the early 00s, but there is a main element at play that Hirway employs and which sets his project apart: restraint. A typical element of this genre – and which tends to chase me away – is a push for lyrical clever cuts and big ol’ musical swoons; the former is (by my opinion) responsible for noxious quotable profundities that state mundane things grandly, and the latter underscores predictable melodies with bigly produced drums, or oh-so-emotive strings. It’s no surprise that this was the era that introduced (and eventually erased) a distinction between indie and mainstream sounds, with “indies” getting huge on commercials and TV soundtracks and bringing us closer to the modern age of mass availability, but it ended up meaning that the formula of accessibility was that much clearer, and Hirway bucks against that in a controlled manner that doesn’t, also, overplay that hand: soft electropop fans can have their indie cake and eat it too.

Lyrically, Hirway zigs between specific, personal visuals and more open wording; they’re mature thoughts on the evolution of relationships and not just breakup/makeup songs. While I appreciate the room this offers for a listener, the ratio is more toward open-endedness that lacks punch; some profundity is okay, I guess.

Musically is where the album (mostly) shines, with Hirway maintaining a perfect balance between delicateness and a sense of purpose; melodies that are memorable without aiming for some forced stomach-drop chorus. It’s minimalism to get exactly what’s needed out of guitar and a beat and tastefully applied strings. As with the lyrics, sometimes he could probably push things a bit more, but there’s also some choiceful sequencing that allows the album to gain more confidence as the runtime tiptoes along.

…But since it is The Postal Service era, we get some really tired electro-lite instrumentals that didn’t add anything then, and feel even more tired now. This is sparingly applied and not a mantra, however.

Some decades on, The One AM Radio and Hirway still have things stacked against them – like a wildly popular podcast – that make it difficult for a music brat like me to give Name Writ in Water its due. But I’m glad I did; sometimes the critics and the fans and I agree after all.