Breadcrumb Trail:

Part 1 is very narratively driven, with metaphorically intriguing juxtapositions between fortune-telling and the in-the-moment thrill of a roller coaster.

Part 2 hints toward the lyrics being a seemingly climactic, euphoric, and triumphant emotional summit for succeeding in living in the moment, and rejecting the anxiety brought by worrying about the future. It would seem like the narrator was even able to make the fortune teller take an ideological left turn. However, there is a dark nuance in how they are now probably trapped in this cycle of prioritised immediacy and quick adrenaline rushes.

Part 3 suggests a final escape and successful getaway from the grasps of concern — both of the past and present; likely what the ticket-taker is an allegory for. Instrumentally, there’s not a single idea, riff or performance that goes amiss. The screamed vocals are an absolute delight in emotional honesty, and the contrast with the spoken word performances is a sight to behold; also, they beautifully complement the narrative of the lyrics while remaining highly enjoyable audibly.

Low-Mid 9.

Nosferatu Man tells a tale of love and sacrifice. Seemingly, the girl in the story offers her humanity to save our narrator to whom the sun has caught up. This, of course, leads to great pain and regret, and simultaneously suggests an internalised hatred for the vampiric state — shown by his description of it as an “early grave”. Additionally, it’s a prediction of loneliness, as suggested by the line “that girl I’ll keep alone”. All in all, it feels like quite a nuanced exploration of loving relationships and their inevitable end — even in the face of a selfless act and an eternity of possible togetherness. This interpretation is not all that important mind you, as the track is quite open to interpretation. Instrumentally, the arrangements feel slightly tamer than on the last track — except for the occasional high-pitched, fantastically-grating guitar riff, first heard towards the beginning. This more rhythm-guitar-leaning approach is by no means less euphoric or evocative, however.

Low 9.

Don, Aman: anxiety, dissociation and social alienation come together to form a cut breathtaking in its relatability. The climax towards the end —in which the narrator realises they are all they have— is both an exacerbation of these feelings, as well as a somehow encouraging disposition; specifically, in how it emphasises the power of self-assurance. Audibly, the atmospheric detour into a fully intimate and dark mood is a harrowingly enjoyable change of pace. The vocal delivery and hypnotic guitar arrangements also complement this ambience to a great extent. However, this also comes with a lower amount of energy and vigour which are —personally— not made up for.

Mid 8.

Washer is quite interesting due to its admirable balance between possible interpretations. This ambiguity makes it all the more eye-catching; for example, the phrase “dreamless sleep” could either be a euphemism for death (pointedly, suicide) or a dysphemism for the half-alife emotional state tied to a breakup. Simultaneously, the “I am safe from harm” line could be a bleak and ironic reference to the romanticised escapism of suicide; alternatively, a self-comforting moment employed to help endure the end of a relationship. Ultimately, the reader is left with a very powerful feeling in the form of an imploration; one that the speaker directs to their now-past lover: hoping that the light in their life won’t fade, regardless of this loss — beautiful and masterful writing to be honest. This time around, the guitar arrangements are an arpeggiated blanket that —along with the heartfelt vocal delivery— come across as hypnotic and enveloping. The sombre soundscape is carried out superbly due to the overflowing emotion that can be felt in every performance. However, it’s slightly long-winded, even if it has amazing structure and emotional progression.

Mid 8.

For Dinner… is an instrumental, and the shortest track on the record. This calm and low-profile tracklisting decision is one to let the listener breathe, but —to my taste— it falls flat when compared to other tracks due to a very stark lack of meat to bite down on.

Mid-High 6.

Good Morning, Captain is a cathartic lyrical cut. Attempting to put the content “bluntly” is a disservice to all its energetic themes and delivery. From growing up to abandonment, the topics explored are no exception to the rule followed by all the songs on the album:  it’s commendably open to interpretation, but it’s sure to stir up feelings regardless. This track boasts more structure and story than previous ones, as well as a euphoric breakdown towards the end. Additionally, the riffs and melodies present are amongst the most interestingly jagged, and the snare tone is explosively metallic ear candy. It’s definitely a commendable closer due to these noteworthy details, and the shouting towards the end is worthy of legendary status.

Low-Mid 9.