ORIGINAL RELEASE DATE: SEPTEMBER 27TH 2010


Everything In Between proved to be a massive leap forward for LA punk-duo No Age. Proper debut Nouns didn’t really do anything to establish them beyond a few strong, albeit scuzzy hooks, and in some sense there’s a similar theme running throughout this record. They’re never going to be your New Favourite Band, and they’re really good at slipping beneath the surface of what’s going on at any given time, only to emerge and suddenly remind you of their of-the-moment charm. Signed to Sub Pop, there’s an instant sense of what to expect when a record by No Age begins and Everything In Between is in part no different. What has changed, however, is the scope in which they apply themselves and a noticeable gracefulness to these melodies. Lurking behind walls of noise is a pop band waiting to burst forth. Every so often, it does, where a vocal strain or melody produce some of the most perfect pop moments in recent memory.


Life Prowler kicks things off with thumping drums that ricochet around crushing guitars and introduce a sombre melancholy. They’ve matured no doubt and gutteral, instinctive reactions have been replaced by something altogether more pensive. This theme runs the whole length of the record, but it’s particularly prevalent early on. This is where the strongest songs are located, whether in the form of mangled and distorted guitar screeches on the downtrodden Glitter, or the beautiful prudence of Depletion. Fever Dreaming, on the other hand, is an all out balls to the floor anthem with guitars that twist and screech, building something out of nothing, throwing inaudible vocals into the mix in what has arguably become No Age’s signature song. The sense of melacholy that infests this record is felt perhaps most obviously on Common Heat. The vocal delivery is different here and feels right up against your ear as opposed to hiding behind the wall of noise that usually supplants their lyrical melody. It’s a muted and reserved offering that feels like stoner rock, a short burst of stunted despondence that can instantly put you on a downer.


There’s an aspect of No Age’s musicianship that warrants instrumental drones and this arrives on the latter half of the album. Deploying a sleepy-eyed, dreamy aesthetic on Sorts, Katerpillar and Positive Amputation results in some of the record’s most memorable moments and adds a new perspective, particularly the latter which begs for repeated listens. It feels like hearing the two halves of the album from opposing sides, where tracks such as Dusted feel like continuous inhaling and exhaling. Suddenly the record opens up and has space to breathe in contrast to some of the more blatant songs from the beginning, where getting more than one chorus felt like a guilty rumination. As crunching guitars dissipate, the record is more easily aligned with Explosions In The Sky or Takk…-era Sigur Rós (think Sæglópur/Svo Hljótt) without the extended involvement or fjord-carving crescendos. Aesthetics aside, it’s the conciseness of these tracks that surprise. They feel like mere introductions to a more substantial whole and that they don’t prolong or outstay their welcome is both a blessing and a curse. It’s perhaps noteworthy to consider than not a single track of thirteen exceed the four minute mark. 


Considering Everything In Between one year on is almost a pointless exercise. No Age live for the moment and are essentially all about the music, which means no glam photoshoots, no excessive media coverage and minimal touring. It’s even in their name. It’s likely that you won’t hear all that much from them until their third album is released, which they’re probably readying as I write this. What does remain one year on is the distinct impression that No Age still have unfulfilled potential to explore. As bold and as pressing an album as this is, one feels that No Age will pour themselves into the recording process and release something bloody marvellous and unexpected on their third outing.