Rogue Wave has been writing songs since the early 2000s and while there has been a revolving door of different members
throughout the band’s career, two essential persons have remained constant.
Singer and songwriter for the band Zach Rogue and drummer Patrick Spurgeon
have stayed together through both misfortune and success, contrasting outcomes that often manifest hand in hand with one another. It is fitting then that a nightingale is represented in the title of this fifth full-length album. In
some poetry and literature this songbird has been associated with sorrow and lament.
However, on the more positive end of the spectrum, because of the spontaneity
perceived in its songs, the nightingale has also been used in these texts to represent the
creativity and lyrical prowess of the poets themselves. Nightingale Floors occupies space somewhere between sorrowful and
uplifting, elusive and ethereal as birdsong.
On the first track, “No Magnatone,” we are met with ambient
synth organ that phases left to right, joined next by some off-kilter drums and
a jangly guitar riff that operates to solidify the groove. Like many songs on
this record, there is a percussive element that drives the story, a distinct
cadence that sonically portrays a kind of deceptive triumph. Deceptive because
although the music feels uplifting, the lyrics are more conflicted. On “Siren’s
Song,” Rogue laments, "you see
what I see/ nothing left to talk about/ nothing left to come back/ nothing left
to honor yourself.” This repetitive mantra focusing on absence continues even
as the song is layered with more sound and the music soars to a climax.
These seemingly separate motifs of lyrical and musical content work well
together with the understanding that triumph of one’s spirit does not
necessarily connote good vibes. In this case, the triumph of the music may be
understood as personal catharsis. It comes with understanding, and acceptance. This idea coalesces in the
song, “Without Pain,” where Rogue asks the question, “what is love without
pain?” The two have meaning in relation to one another. And so you have
the music as this physically felt driving force and then the human voice and
with it language representations, the less tangible affect that is here
embodied by love.
This collection of songs is also an interesting
and subtly idiosyncratic pop album. Take for example the catchy melodic hooks
present on, “When Sunday Morning Comes.” In this pop song, under three minutes,
Rogue incorporates folky harmonies reminiscent of The Byrds. His voice is
delicate, and his inflection purposefully alien at times while seamlessly
integrating into the music. There are snippets of birdsong that make an
appearance on this track and again I am reminded of the nightingale as poet and
spontaneous singer of sad songs. Nightingale
Floors, strikingly embodies this conflict that is often present in music,
where contradictions may converge as catharsis, as something that is being worked
out and made sense of by the pairing of opposites. On this record in particular, it is through this dichotomy that personal growth and a feeling of triumph may
be understood.
Grade: B+
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