It took a while for Alvvays to win me over. I was initially charmed by their debut album’s catchy singles “Archie, Marry Me” and the sleeper hit “Party Police,” but I was too burnt-out on the vibes-first songs of the early 2010s to give them proper notice. It wasn’t until the months leading up to the release of their sophomore album, *Antisocialites*, in 2017 that they finally clicked. Their songwriting had grown sharper, and a certain magic in their music became apparent. I’ve since come to regard the Canadian indie-pop band as low-key geniuses.
Alvvays has attracted a devoted online following, but they’re also the kind of band you might dismiss if you don’t immediately hear what everyone else is hearing. Lead singer Molly Rankin once described their critical consensus as “reluctantly revered,” which feels true. However, their five-year hiatus has cemented their status as an object of simple reverence. It’s rare for a band to attract such fervor with their first single and maintain it through an extended album rollout, but Alvvays has done just that.
*Blue Rev* is the best Alvvays has ever been. The album blitzes by, with few songs making it past the three-minute mark. Each track is compressed and cozy, constantly flitting through ideas without returning to the same chorus in the same way. The band barrels forward on the sheer power of their gleaming hooks, which might only reveal themselves on repeated listens. The album is loud and restless, with every sound feeling intentional.
Despite its intricacy, the album was mostly instinctual in its making. After setbacks involving a thief, a flood, and a pandemic, the band linked up with producer Shawn Everett in Los Angeles late last year. Everett encouraged them to abandon their previous meticulous approach and simply play through the album twice in a row. As an impressive live band, Alvvays was more than up to the task. The result is brisk and powerful, with all the small but pivotal twists and turns already baked-in.
The songs on *Blue Rev* are affecting and surprising, slipping into pathos at unexpected moments. Sometimes a lyric or a guitar hit just right. Their songs sound joyous but can also be painfully sad, often at the same time. Rankin isn’t a particularly personal songwriter — she’s inspired by short stories and crafts narratives that feel both specific and universal. Her lyrics, created with her partner and bandmate Alec O’Hanley, are top-notch. They’re funny, wry, and derive great pleasure from their cleverness, rolling off Rankin’s tongue and anchoring songs that swell and swerve around her.
Take “Pomeranian Spinster,” a puckish song that topples under the weight of its words: “Now you’re living in a condo and you wanna forget there was a time when someone could’ve said you can’t recreate all the things that are read/ Pomeranian spinster, glass slipper never fit/ It took a while but I’m trying to get over it/ Presbyterian ministers travel in packs and never split/ They deviate in the tiniest concepts.” The lyrics often follow up something direct with something abstract, expressing a deep sadness and disaffection, weighed down by the approach of midlife and lingering emptiness.
One line from “Tile By Tile” always gets me: “I take the calls from telemarketers in hopes of hearing your drawl/ I let them blather on without a thought/ I surrender my credit card ’cause I’m still combing through missed connections.” On “Belinda Says,” Rankin’s character fantasizes about a simpler life: moving to the country, having a baby, waiting tables in town. “Easy On Your Own?” is all about regret and thinking you could have done better by yourself if only you’d made the right choices. It’s rendered in a nightmare-scape, where we’re stuck “crawling in monochromatic hallways” and dreaming “about it burning down all day.”
Alvvays songs were always wordy, but they are even more rewardingly dense and conceptually rich this time around. It makes sense that their lyrics would match the elevation in sound. There are more layers to *Blue Rev* than anything else the band has done. *Antisocialites* was the idealized version of their debut: crisper and punchier, the classic level-up from a promising band. But *Blue Rev* is different — it’s a natural extension of their sound, both catchier and harder to grasp. Everything is blown-out, subsumed into a satisfying bed of noise that’s a delight to pick apart and dig into.
I had another brief moment of Alvvays doubt when “Pharmacist,” the lead single from *Blue Rev*, was released. I remember feeling underwhelmed by the song, thinking it was too short and lacked a proper chorus. But they were still there; it just took me a while to find them. “Pharmacist” is a great song and indicative of *Blue Rev* as a whole. It might take time to sink in, but once it does, all you can hear is an album bursting with sun, blisteringly bright, and blindingly brilliant.