On Fred Thomas‘ startling, career-peak new album Window in the Rhythm, he invites listeners to spend an hour contemplating their pasts while he does the same, and it is impossible not to oblige him, as Thomas takes us back to punk houses, lost friends, and relationships built on unsteady foundations. Chances are, if you are a fan of Thomas’ music, you have some similar experiences. This song cycle is not about coming to revelations but making peace with the passing of time, people, and situations, and most importantly, maintaining the awareness that those cycles will continue humming along and that we aren’t done.
At this point, Michigan-based singer-songwriter-producer Thomas has nothing to prove. He has amassed a dedicated fan base who follow him wherever his music leads, from his early projects like the emo of Lovesick to the Motown-tinged pop of Saturday Looks Good to Me to the more recent pop confections of Idle Ray. Fortunately, his next step is only predictable in that it will result in another high-quality, attention-worthy release.
Window in the Rhythm is a departure from his most recent projects but not exactly a wild swing into new territory. Fans of his more reflective work in projects like Flashpapr will find a lot to love here, and this is also an excellent place to start for the uninitiated.
Wind in the Rhythm is a double album with an hour of music spread across seven tracks. The shortest song comes in just under five minutes; the longest closes in on 15 minutes. It is clear from the first song that Thomas is fully in command of his vision. This is no self-indulgent endurance test. In fact, it is surprising how quickly the songs fly by, and he has assembled an impressive roster of collaborators, from Quin Kirchner’s dynamic drums to Mary Lattimore‘s harp to the warm vocals of Elise Bergman, Mary Fraser, Maggie Hopp, Elena Dakota, Emilie Rex, and Emily Roll.
Sonically, the opener, “Embankment”, exudes autumn. You can practically feel the leaves under your boot as you walk down the street with a coffee in the plaintive introduction. Thomas mentions headache-inducing cleaners, neighbors pouring gasoline into the yard, and a mixtape that was a stronger reminder than people or faces to create a snapshot of a friend who died unexpectedly. There is an emphasis on storytelling throughout these songs, and it suits Thomas well. His voice has been an endearing aspect of all of his projects, but he seems far more vulnerable and unguarded here. Along the way, there are some gut-punches. Around halfway through “Embankment”, Thomas sings, “Geoff was my only friend who had left the table then, and my first understanding of absence creating an incomprehensible space.”
While plenty of artists have mined the past for source material, Fred Thomas is doing something unique here. He is using the memories as points of inquiry, as in “Season of Carelessness”, and also using them to assess the present, as in “Hours”. It’s a compelling way to sidestep a nostalgia trip. At times, it feels like he’s working through and coming to conclusions about his life through the process of writing these songs. And it’s hard not to entertain some of those questions as you listen. It is easy to imagine some dedicated listeners spending an afternoon working through some tough feelings with this record.
Another highlight is “New Forgetting”. It begins with an organ that almost sounds like it could start a funeral, and in a way, it does. Where Fred Thomas seems caught between his recollections of the past, the recollections of others, and how much time he spends on it, people around him encourage him not to look back too hard or too long. If that advice is to be taken, what is he to do with those flashes of memories that come back? It’s a powerful reflection on the role the past plays in our lives.
Closer “Wasn’t”, perfectly encapsulates the themes of the preceding tracks in an upbeat way, starting out as a straight-ahead indie rock track, but eventually washing out to synth and feedback. Those last few minutes of instrumental music almost feel like a moment for reflection, an opportunity to gather your thoughts before facing the rest of your day.
In Paul Thomas Anderson’s Magnolia, the character played by William H. Macy declares, “We may be through with the past, but the past isn’t through with us.” This is more of a threat in the film than in Window in the Rhythm. Fred Thomas isn’t simply mining the past, looking for answers, or camping out there; he recognizes that today will also eventually become the past. We don’t always think about how we will continue this cycle until we reach the end, that the memories we hold now will sit aside (or be pushed out) by new ones. Spend a rainy fall afternoon with Window in the Rhythm, earbuds in, and a warm beverage in hand. You will not regret it.