The Vacant Lots
Closure
Fuzz Club Records
This is one of the most eclectic collections of music I’ve hit upon in many a pandemic. The Vacant Lots hail from Brooklyn, home to all things cool, and this product will drop that thermal metric down by at least another degree Celsius.
Closure opens with a fuzzy electronic sounding number that feels like the bastard love child of The Pet Shop Boys and Sparks. A synth and electric drum beat set up a fast dance tempo, a wall of fuzzy guitars attacks a vocal reciting: “Thank you for messing up my life.” Oh-Kay. Next we visit “Consolation Prize,” a slow, downbeat number. Occasionally the singer rouses to deliver a line or two of depression. Then he gives up. I hope he’s OK. Next we learn they have “No Future” but still hope for a consolation prize. Track three wakes me up, it’s called “Eye’s Closed.” Here we have some hope at last: it’s ethereal, simple, and upbeat. The arrangements are lush and dreamy and I could hang out here. But time and tracks wait for no critic, and now I smell a whiff of a potential hit: “Disintegration.” It rolls out a carpet of even more lush vocals, beats it gently with a drum machine of rhythm, and leaves me feeling not as bad as when I got up this morning. Time passes, tracks roll by (all eight of them) and soon we arrive at the final track: “Burning Bridges.” It’s a male vocal, guardedly admitting the sins he piled on a non-existent ex-girlfriend.
Are we happy? Don’t be silly. Are we done gazing at our navel? I’m not. Will we accomplish great things today? I’m not sure if this blurb counts, but so far it’s the best I got. I hope you do better. This band wants you to do good as well, and we can’t BOTH disappoint.
