If the words Waxahatchee, Swearin’, or P.S. Eliot mean anything to you, the surprise debut from Snocaps might be the best musical surprise of the year. It’s the return of Crutchfield twins, whose first band, the Ackleys, made waves in Birmingham, Alabama when they were just 15. Allison sometimes plays as part of Waxahatchee, Katie’s biggest, now Grammy-nominated project, and they’ve promised to perform material from P.S. Eliot, their second band, when they tour together later this year. But Snocaps – which will “put on ice for the foreseeable future” after those handful of shows, according to press materials – offers a chance for them to tap into the obvious, umatchable chemistry that’s been absent from Waxahatchee’s increasingly acclaimed records, splitting the album’s tracklist evenly and ricocheting between their diverging (but never discordant) songwriting instincts. Backed by two musicians Katie worked with on her latest album, Tigers Blood, MJ Lenderman and Brad Cook, Snocaps is as warm and spontaneous as it is thorny and subtly miraculous.
1. Coast
Over 15 years ago, the Crutchfield twins opened their debut P.S. Eliot album with a song about feeling “aimlessly alive,” having a restless mind, and keeping your foot on the pedal. On the much more anthemic ‘Coast’, driving behaviour is once again billed as a reflection of personal temperament: even on a straight road, the protagonist can’t quite keep a steady pace. She’s more concerned with the interpersonal implications of being in the same car: the element of trust, the inevitable silence, the impending apology. The irony is that Allison, Katie, and Lenderman (on both drums and guitar) do sound a bit like they’re coasting: this is familiar ground, and they sure have a lot of fun with it.
2. Heathcliff
“When you go down/ You’ll take me down with you,” the Crutchfields sing over and over on this perfect little song about sisterhood; Allison could be writing about any kind of relationship, but more than a few lines pin it down to a familial context. Her bass guitar announces itself instantly, but Lenderman takes his time, staying inconspicuous; there’s no frustration baked into his electric guitar. You can take the refrain whichever way you want, but it doesn’t take repeated listens to get it stuck in your head.
3. Wasteland
Picking up the torch, Katie stays on theme: “Gave it everything I had, I am hazmat, I am radioactive/ Caustic car wreck, off the rails and rude and ruining your life.” There’s a sense of lyrical coherence here – more like synchronicity – even as she and her collaborators settle into the twangier comfort zone of last year’s Tigers Blood; Katie’s poetry is thorny yet rolls off the tongue with incomparable efficiency. She may be standing on solid ground, but the relationship she confronts is a “delicate gamble,” compelling her to let it all out.
4. Brand New City
The Crutchfields are well-versed in loose, unassuming indie rock, but this new configuration lends it a touch of the triumphant. “We quote all our friends/ Like they’re roundtable poets/ The stars of old films,” Allison sings before delighting in each word of the title, Lenderman’s solo colouring in that same dark bar.
5. Hide
Katie’s ‘Hide’ slows the album’s pace back down, but the band really feels this one out. When she begins the second verse with “Our love third degree,” Lenderman grabs the chance to let his wailing guitar drag out the burn. The hushed chorus is no less affecting than the ones you can belt along to, twisting the dynamic of ‘Coast’ and juxtaposing the Crutchfields’ writing styles: “Close your eyes in the passenger seat/ Remember you can trust me” becomes “You will listen now, you’re in the backseat/ Carving your way out, muffle the heartbeat.” There’s an echo of ‘The Dark Don’t Hide It’, the Jason Molina tune Katie and Kevin Morby have often covered.
6. Cherry Hard Candy
Country-fried and confident, ‘Cherry Hard Handy’ once again makes good use of Katie’s songwriting feeding on catastrophic, contradictory impulses: “I might cause a collision/ Rot your teeth out,” she sings, proclaiming herself both friendship and heartbreak. Lenderman’s grubby solo sounds like pressing on the gas pedal, ready to bow out at any moment.
7. Avalanche
‘Avalanche’ is as sure-footed as the previous song, this time from Allison’s perspective. Her lyrics seem to expound on her sister’s earlier description of love as a “delicate gamble”: “He’s got a lot riding on this next hand/ Might wobble but he always wins.” This gentleman makes it look easy, she tells us, a skill the members of Snocaps have long cultivated.
8. Doom
An immediate highlight, ‘Doom’ does everything not to shroud Katie’s lyricism in the verses but makes sure to elevate the chorus, one of her absolute best. “You can cloak a sigh/ But I’m all out of breath/ Saying my goodbyes,” she sings, but it’s one of the few songs here where she climbs up her vocal register, even if she ends on a note of resignation, like trying to land a sinking ship.
9. Over Our Heads
It’s a jarring transition, but ‘Over Our Head’ revs things up like a blast from the past. Of course, its jauntiness is at least a little deceptive: “The emptiness that we both know/ Descends on us when we got no place to go,” Allison sings. But the shared knowledge allows them to go off – Lenderman bends and slides between notes as they repeat, “Don’t bother chasing us, boys,” giving it his best shot.
10. Angel Wings
“I delight in the spectrum of my yearning” might be one of the best thoughts you can have while riding down any street (here, it’s 29th). That delight, ‘Angel Wings’ suggests, comes in moving slowly (again switching up the album’s flow as it does) and letting the thoughts hang around, ache as they might. As Katie sings about knocking her doubt loose, Allison’s voice wraps around it like a foil, eager to assist.
11. I Don’t Want To
Their vocal chemistry sounds even sweeter on ‘I Don’t Want To’, a song that sounds like they could’ve written years ago. What’s the feeling that lingers when you’ve spent a whole album – a lifetime, even – letting your guard down, letting it all out? “I’m pure of heart, this darkness ricochets,” they sing. This isn’t its final destination, but it’s worth capturing.
12. You in Rehab
Allison’s apparent aloofness betrays itself on ‘You in Rehab’, revealing the emotional machinations beneath the song’s gentle cooing: “Me and the sadness move/ Laterally away from one another/ Like you and me.” Though Katie’s writing seems to strike with a more tangible specificity, Allison’s gets under the skin of the kind of interdependent relationships rarely dissected on record. With its title alone, the song turns subtext into text, then reaches beyond it, shooting at some eternal (and probably familial) truth few will ever grasp. This pair certainly does.
13. Coast II
A reprise of the opener, featuring just Katie accompanying a child’s voice on acoustic guitar, ‘Coast II’ closes the album on a dreamy, wistful note. The twins were this young once, more restless still, but perhaps seeing those same qualities mirrored reminds them of all the ways it’s mutated, how they can even be passed on. Aimlessly alive as they still might be, the Crutchfields sound poised with purpose, leaving space for those who’ll help them travel the distance.
