The germ of this reunion was Ackell’s curiosity about what a contemporary Drop Nineteens track would sound like. Not an unusual query for any artist contemplating a comeback, however Ackell—the band’s major songwriter—had barely strummed a guitar in many years. From the start, he wished to “comply with the ethos” of Delaware, which provided the ‘Teenagers any variety of paths to wander. The anguished “Reberrymemberer” seemed like Kevin Shields producing Heroin; their cowl of Madonna’s “Angel” had a heady stupor and scalar guitar hook that anticipated Deftones at their wooziest. Or they may get dreamy: “Kick the Tragedy”—the epic-length jangle-gaze lower that crests on a spoken-word meditation from Kelley about being 19—has develop into a zoomer touchstone and, by some measures, Drop Nineteens’ greatest track.

Whereas Arduous Gentle doesn’t copy the construction of “Tragedy,” it does faucet into the uncooked materials: mild glide guitar and an inquest into youthful vitality. Right here, that materials stays in beautiful rigidity, as all these reminiscence fragments threaten to gash Arduous Gentle’s dream-pop reverie. “Shallow wreck from the underside/Higher left than picked up/And remembered,” Ackell sings on the valedictory “Scapa Circulation,” “however I keep in mind.” On Arduous Gentle, time is commonly a hydrological operate, as looming because the Nowhere wave. “Minimize to the chase, my brother,” Ackell cautions, “There’s been climate and climate and climate and climate.” The previous was “oceans in the past” on “A Hitch,” which sends a sullen chime and Koeplin’s toms right into a psychedelically panned splice of guitar and vocal from Kelley.

For the third straight album, Drop Nineteens are loath to repeat themselves. Even on their debut, they opted to report a recent set of songs relatively than rework any of the demos that introduced them a lot consideration. And although that set has develop into a shoegaze landmark (and a coveted shirt drop), the follow-up presents saxophone relatively than screaming; as a substitute of alloying their sound with a pop icon’s, they faithfully and delicately cowl a Clientele track (“Policeman Getting Misplaced”). The pressing, guitar-dense “Tarantula” suggests a timeline wherein the band held on till the post-punk revival, and its hovering refrain (“And we really feel like we’re after college/Within the afternoon/Within the afterlife”) is the purest pop transfer they’ve ever made. Whereas the textures of shoegaze are in every single place, the closest factor to a shoegaze track is “Rose With Smoke,” a spare, guitar-only instrumental that acts as an intermission.

In all places else, the band sounds locked in and linked collectively—if you wish to catch the sense of play, simply give attention to Zimmerman’s giddy basslines—and the result’s the form of slow-release euphoria you get from a day catching up with outdated pals. On the seven-minute closing ballad “T,” Drop Nineteens settle in after an album spent in fixed movement. Ackell sings about inviting some of us over and placing on a Mickey Rourke film. (They’re watching on a plasma display, so God is aware of what 12 months it’s.) Koeplin paddles at half-speed; guitars scream simply outdoors the window. For the second, they’re weathering the storm.

Drop Nineteens: Arduous Gentle