Last summer, after living across the country from each other for several years, the four members of Anamanaguchi decided to try something new. Their label Polyvinyl had rescued the famed American Football house from potential destruction, so the band took the opportunity to move in and write together. Over the course of a month, Anamanaguchi – pioneers of hyper-melodic 8-bit rock, whose extraordinary ascent has led them to topping charts with a virtual pop star – flipped their typically meticulous digital process on its head. The result is Anyway. Written in the converted living room-turned-practice space, Anamanaguchi walked away with the most personal record of their career. And it’s a rock record for the ages.
“Crazy sounds come from normal-looking houses,“ notes singer/songwriter/guitarist Peter Berkman. “We made the decision to be physically in the same room for nearly every step, writing everything as a group instead of editing and tweaking files over the internet.”
The band brought these demos to Grammy-winning rock producer Dave Fridmann (The Flaming Lips, MGMT, Sleater-Kinney), whose old school approach drove the point home. Once again staying under the same roof – this time at the Fridmann family’s cozy Tarbox Road Studios in western New York – they recorded Anyway straight to tape, uniting around live instruments and lyrics sung by everybody in the band. Fridmann encouraged live tracking and spontaneous performances, which were shaped by Luke Silas’ propulsive drumming. The album’s analog sound comes in part from their search for vintage gear, including an extremely rare set of Marshall guitar cabinet speakers from the late-1960s – previously used on recordings by Jimi Hendrix, Van Halen, Nirvana, and Weezer – that give Berkman and co-guitarist/vocalist Ary Warnaar their distinct sound. “Every detail came from this need to do it right the first time,” Berkman notes about this significant shift for such consummate tinkerers. Adds bassist/vocalist James DeVito, “This time there was no undo button, no alternate versions. The decisions had to be made before, not after.”
At first, Anamanaguchi aimed to explore rage as the record’s main theme, reflecting the various frustrations of the world. But quickly they found themselves distracted by having fun together, and Anyway instead captures a band creatively and personally energized: the experience of four best friends reviving their connection in a disconnected world. As Anamanaguchi has always been an instrumental band, the decision to sing suddenly confronted them with the question of what the band’s voice would ultimately be. They explore this newfound power in every song, making it their most emotionally resonant work yet.
“The overarching theme of [USA] was about a voice forming and learning how to speak–a kind of artificial one. Anyway is the next step – it’s about discovering the band’s voice,” Berkman explains. “There’s a now-or-never feeling to it, a kind of ‘why not.’ Loss is a part of life, no one is immune to it. There’s that Phil Ochs song ‘When I’m Gone:’ ‘you won’t find me singin’ on this song when I’m gone, my pen won’t pour a lyric line when I’m gone, so I guess I’ll have to do it while I’m here.’ We’re making the most of our lives and what we love doing which happens to be writing, playing, and singing music all together.”
Anyway has moments of anger, love, humor, paranoia, and sadness – but the band’s sense of light-heartedness shines through. On “Rage (Kitchen Sink),” the band confront loneliness and boredom, two epidemics of the digital age that seem to be humanity’s only common bond. The anthemic, fuzzed-out “Magnet” is about the surreal attraction that’s possible between two people – a feeling echoed by the combination of such a heavy track with delicate lyrics. The power-pop ballad “Darcie” finds inspiration in small gestures from a local unsung hero, who brightens their lives and allows unforeseen amounts of fun to happen. Taut and dynamic, “Buckwild” is a rock sing-along that serves as the album’s genesis story: a band making an effort to do something new, while accepting the risks that may bring.
Formed in New York in the mid-2000s, Anamanaguchi made their name with emotionally-charged turbo-electric experiments in chiptune. Known for programming their early music on Nintendo cartridges you can actually play, their accomplishments include scoring Scott Pilgrim vs. the World: The Game and launching one of music’s most successful crowdfunded projects to this day with their Kickstarter for their debut album Endless Fantasy. The band’s reputation for innovation grew worldwide, leading them to develop and release their own experimental video game (Capsule Silence XXIV), as well as to officially collaborate and perform with the virtual pop star Hatsune Miku on her hologram tour (their collaborative hit “Miku” is not just her biggest English language song to date, it’s also recently a prominent music fixture of Epic Games’ global smash hit Fortnite). They even launched a pizza into space.
[USA], Anamanaguchi’s critically-acclaimed second album and debut for Polyvinyl, anticipated a crucial cultural shift in moving from escapist, nostalgic fantasy to a more introspective exploration of digital identity. Described by Pitchfork as the band’s “most emotionally grounded record,” [USA] laid the foundation for the openness and honesty that defines Anyway. Where [USA] made sense of life online, their third album Anyway ventures into the world outside the front door.
Anamanaguchi’s greatest strength isn’t their devotion to doing things differently, or their ability to translate net-life into emotionally resonant tunes – though they are incredible at both. It’s the way their actual, enduring friendships have allowed them to evolve together. “We’ve always stretched the limits of what counts as ‘being a band’,” says Warnaar, “but Anyway honors that special glue that’s kept us together all along.”
Since 2009, Ovlov’s transmissions have been sporadic, but they’ve always been impactful. The band’s early run of EPs established the Connecticut four-piece as a modern update on a certain strain of northeastern indie-rock. By the time the band’s debut album Am was released in 2013, Ovlov was getting comparisons to Dinosaur Jr. and Sebadoh tossed in their direction, and while those elements were certainly present in their sound, Ovlov always let catchy pop hooks slip into the mix too. On their third album, Buds, those pop elements are more pronounced than they’ve ever been before.
“I would like to think that the songs on this album are all pop songs at the core,” says Steve Hartlett, the band’s songwriter, guitarist, and vocalist. On first blush, Buds won’t shock longtime Ovlov fans, but on repeat listens, those fuzzy, crushing guitars start to feel less like the central focus and more of a delivery system for Hartlett’s grander ambitions. “For the past few years, the number of rock bands I’ve been listening to has grown smaller and smaller,” says Hartlett. “Unfortunately, it’s the only genre and style I’ve ever really felt comfortable writing. That’s probably mostly because I write everything on a guitar. Don’t get me wrong, I love rock music—there’s nothing more satisfying than playing an E chord through a Big muff as loud as the amp will go—I just want to slowly progress into writing the most perfectly poppy of pop songs.”
Recorded with the same producer and engineer who has handled every Ovlov album, Michael John Thomas III at his Black Lodge Studio in Brooklyn, Buds is the latest document of Ovlov’s slow and sturdy evolution. But this time, the band’s become even more of a family affair. Though Steve’s long been riffing alongside guitarist Morgan Luzzi, the band was started with Steve’s younger brother Theo on drums. This time around, their older brother Jon joined them on bass—and their dad, Ted, even stops in to rip a sax solo on “Cheer Up, Chihiro!” Considering the Hartlett brothers learned how to play music together, it’s a full circle moment as they all come together in service of making Ovlov’s most fully realized statement yet.
Opening with “Baby Shea,” Hartlett lovingly reflecting on the bond’s formed at the beloved Brooklyn venue Shea Stadium, the album starts on a note of bittersweet appreciation. “Just as the majority of my songs are about the loss of either life or love, I think the majority of the songs on this album are as well,” says Hartlett. With a pounding backbeat and thick layers of guitar fuzz, Ovlov show they’ve lost none of their vigor in the years since TRU. But while loss permeates the record, there are moments of celebration, like “Cheer Up, Chihiro!” which sees Hartlett finally finishing the Spirited Away-inspired song he’s had kicking around since the Am days but could never get just right. “It’s always been one of my favorite songs that I’ve written, most likely because I can’t help but picture scenes from Spirited Away whenever I play or hear it.”
For Buds, Ovlov once again turned to Jordyn Blakely of Stove and Smile Machine to add additional vocals to the composition. But a couple chance meetings also brought a couple new voices to the fold. After meeting at Shea Stadium, Hartlett became close with Erin McGrath from Dig Nitty and invited her to sing on two of the album’s tracks, and a random Instagram message from Alex Gehring of shoegaze icons Ringo Deathstarr culminated in her contributing backing vocals to three songs as well. The result of this communal effort is a record that’s harmonious and powerful, as Ovlov work through a heavy few years with some heavy riffing and hearty hooks. Buds is dense and dark, but Hartlett’s assertion is dead-on: these are just big, bold pop songs. It’s still Ovlov, but a more assured version, one that isn’t so shy about putting their ambitions on full display.
