Cryogeyser spent the last five years working on their new self-titled release, and it was time well spent. It’s a massive leap forward from their memorable debut, with improved production courtesy of new drummer Zach CapittiFenton. This is his first time producing and engineering, and it is not hard to imagine his work here launching him as an in-demand hired hand. A rich, beautifully realized collection of songs that lean into shoegaze and 1990s alternative, Cryogeyser will hold much appeal for fans of those sounds.
With its consistent vibe throughout, Cryogeyser makes a case for itself as one of the top nighttime albums of recent memory. It can be a challenge for each song to have its own life with a sustained mood like this, but the key distinguishing points of Cryogeyser are the vocals and lyrics of Shawn Marom. Marom‘s voice follows in the lineage of many alternative rock icons but stands on its own, and is the voice that ties all these songs together so effectively. This is the best-sounding version of the group.
“Sorry” opens the record and sets the tone for the remaining songs, with thick guitars that recall Siamese Dream-era Smashing Pumpkins. That pretty-loud dynamic is woven throughout the LP. “Stargirl” has a hazy, dreamy arrangement cut open with a big chorus. It is the most compelling song on the album, with Marom’s hollowed-out, resigned vocals in the verses giving way to cathartic screams in the choruses.
The opening chords of “Livia” possess shades of the Cure. “Blue Light” has a sweetness that makes it another obvious highlight, providing a moment of respite. Similarly, “Cupid” feels like a turning point that recalls a lighter “Mayonnaise”, the Smashing Pumpkins classic. “Mountain” features Wednesday as guests, and it’s a clear highlight, channeling that group’s mix of sludge and melody and featuring a vocal from Karly Hartzman. “timetetheredforever” opens the second half of the LP and feels like a turning point on the healing journey.
An air of melancholy hangs over these 11 tracks, but it’s never heavy-handed. Marom’s mix of precise observation and fantastical imagery sets the band apart from groups with similar influences. The immediacy of descriptions of smoking out the window of an apartment and the images of broken angels mix seamlessly in that way that heartbreak usually takes the form of some reality and some outsized imagery. Marom‘s ability to blend these disparate elements recalls another great 1990s lyricist, Mary Timony.
By the time “Love Languages” closes the record, there is a satisfying air of resolution and moving forward. It feels clear that Marom has lived through every line of Cryogeyser, pouring into it fully as a means to get to a peacefulness. Every breakup album has its own story; the best ones frequently move through the pain to something more hopeful. Appropriately dropping on Valentine’s Day, this record is tailor-made for a night alone spent healing instead of moping. Hopefully, it will be a balm for those who are mending.