Following 2019’s Earthandsky, a firm fan favourite, Of Mice & Men have left themselves some big shoes to fill. A compilation of the year’s EPs; Timeless, Bloom, and including new EP Ad Infinitum, Echo is a 39 minute long snapshot of the band’s last 18 months. The ten songs offered to us cover a scope of loss, growth, and the impermanence of life. Though the question remains whether the long form was necessary.
From the opening ‘Timeless’, Echo is an emotionally heavy listen. Rich with imagery, Aaron Pauley (vocals/bass) sings of “finding vibrance in monochrome” in anthemic choruses which push through the fog of depression. When taken into context with the foreboding ringing of the intro, ‘Timeless’ is as suffocating as the malady it dances with. The affliction soon pulls us into a brutal breakdown fuelled by Phil Manansala and Alan Ashby’s crushing riffs. As Manansala and Ashby send us into a spiral, layers of distant vocals echo like voices in our mind we aren’t sure are there at all.
Produced in house by Pauley, Echo is a feast for the ears and the imagination. Real care and attention to detail have been poured into this album. A common assessment of life is some of its qualities can be like treading water. To the tune of distant vocals and muted guitars, ‘Anchor’ wraps itself around our waist. Pauley’s basslines merge with beats from Valentino Arteaga to remind us something sinister lurks within our waters. Pained screams usher in the hardcore elements Of Mice & Men encompass as we sink into the murky depths. ‘Levee’ sees the dam break under the weight of emotions. “The rain touches everything I love” Pauley utters repeatedly as if trying to force the thought to register. In a song much darker than the rest of the album, the vibration of the bassline muddies ‘Levee’ and pulls us into the quagmire. A tsunami of riffs pummel us into submission before a spacing outro sweeps the song away piece by piece with each blast of a chord. Where ‘Levee’ and ‘Anchor’ are obvious in their devastation, ‘Bloom’ remains open to interpretation. Slower churning riffs run over us like the cogs of life’s machine. Distortion within Pauley’s vocals breed an uncomfortable quality, leading us into the true meaning behind our existential dread. A weighty breakdown forces itself upon us, Arteaga’s drums shove our faces into screams of “love is watching the petals fall”. This beautifully morose allegory for grief slowly erodes our resolve without us noticing until a deeper dive.
While Echo reflects on the band’s lives, it is also a collection of life lessons no one wants to acknowledge until school is in session. Recent single ‘Fighting Gravity’ seeps into our veins with warped guitars and slower melodies. Small electronic glitches begin to infiltrate the otherwise pretty opening, a comment on the insidiousness of mental health issues awakening within us. As the melody slides away, the true nature of our minds comes to the forefront with blasting riffs and filtered harmonies. Tacking the complex emotion of existential dread, Pauley screams into the ether, wondering why certain seasons of life are so difficult to navigate. Feeling at a loss, the density of the riffs sound as though someone is lashing out in the zero-gravity nature of the synths around them.
Perhaps the hardest lesson for many as of this moment is the severance of a relationship where the other party is still on our mortal plane but is no longer in our lives. In a shattering version of ‘Helplessly Hoping’, originally by Crosby, Stills & Nash, Of Mice & Men adopt the less is more approach. Swapping the original’s acoustic guitar for strings, Pauley’s layered vocals pierce our hearts as violently as the original heartbreak. As we wait for a full band accompaniment, we inadvertently pay more attention to the lyrics and the pain inflected within them. A song about a partner leaving us for another, “they are free together” freezes our lungs and burns our eyes with hot tears of inadequacy.
At the top of the review, we pondered whether the idea of combining these three EPs was necessary. The answer to that question is yes. As much as we can appreciate smaller Polaroids, there are times where larger tapestries are needed. Echo’s tableau is exquisitely gloomy and the secondary pain we feels breeds catharsis more than negativity. The album teaches us to find the beauty in the temporary and enjoy the moment, people, and experiences in our lives while we have them.
Echo releases on December 3 via Nuclear Blast