Canadian twins Tegan and Sara Quin’s 10th album was born out of lockdown-assisted stress and trauma, a fact hammered home by song titles such as Smoking Weed Alone, Pretty Shitty Time and This Ain’t Going Well. Adroit at pairing incisive, deeply personal lyrics with stadium-sized pop melodies – either housed in elastic synth pop or, as they favour here, more roughed-up indie-rock – on Crybaby they’re soundtracking the world’s bleakest house party.
Galloping opener I Can’t Grow Up sets the tone. While it rushes forward on tumbling drums and scuffed-up synths, the lyrics paint a desolate picture of emotional abuse (“You’re a hangman killing my hope”), anchored by an unwavering sense of disorientation. In fact, throughout Crybaby’s 12 short, sharp songs, the ground continually shifts; the pogoing I’m Okay is punctuated by eerily chirping backing vocals, while closer Whatever That Was sounds like it’s slowly fraying at the edges.
