Nothing: a short history of decay

"On "purple strings," he sounds like he's been awake for days, his voice thin and sapped of energy; he delivers the line "I'm getting to know myself" with such despondence he doesn't need to tell you how little he likes what he sees. Mary Lattimore's harp spangles the background, while Camille Getz drags her violin across the track, a clever acoustic rendering of a classic shoegaze guitar squeal."

"Part of what made Nothing's early records so powerful was discipline. The guitarists played with military precision and sangfroid, using volume and distortion to blow the listener back instead of chaotic fretwork and tremolo bends; the interplay of dark guitar and light vocal was as high contrast as a xeroxed punk flyer."

"The lightly baroque pop of "the rain don't care" starts like John Lennon trying to write a Paul McCartney song and landing on Oasis. Palermo sings the melody like it's a tangled necklace he's patiently picking apart. He moves delicately, stepping around the columns of piano chords keeping the song upright."

Nothing's recent album showcases experimental arrangements with baroque pop elements, delicate piano work, and orchestral additions like harp and violin. Palermo's vocals serve as an emotional anchor throughout, delivering despondent performances that convey introspection and vulnerability. Songs like "the rain don't care" and "purple strings" demonstrate successful sonic experimentation, while tracks such as "cannibal world" blend elements less effectively, losing the military precision and high-contrast dynamics that characterized the band's earlier records. The album achieves transcendence through conviction and careful positioning of vocals within the surrounding musical landscape, though it lacks revolutionary qualities.

Read at Pitchfork