worrywart - hail mary baby
unutterably_lyle
self-released
Hail Mary, full of grace, worrywart is with thee. On their debut album, the Vancouver band stands beside you as you watch the horrors of the world unfold. worrywart is not here to placate you, though. Rather, they hold a mirror up to your pain, confusion, anger, and even, maybe, that tiny shred of hope that you’re holding onto.
worrywart have a flair for the dramatics on hail mary baby. They twist punk, noiserock, and artpop into a liturgy of chaos. As worrywart write on Bandcamp, hail mary baby was “recorded everywhere from empty attics to cluttered basements, in jam spaces, kitchens, living rooms, and at the far ends of winding hallways all across east Vancouver.” Disorder is its foundation.
My favourite description of their sound is one that the band uses to tag their music on Bandcamp: “anxiety rock.” Each song sounds like it’s teetering on the edge of a breakdown or a breakthrough. This tension is at its highest on songs like “Smile” where waves of distorted guitar chords pummel you as lead singer Ryley Epp’s voice is like a lighthouse guiding you out of the storm.
Because the thing that worrywart wants you to remember is that even when you’re living in chaos, it always ends. Routines resurface, your strength returns, and joy is rediscovered. The album’s finale is its nearly eight and a half minute long title track. It starts off as a wonky piano ballad, before all hell breaks loose and layers and layers of distorted instrumentals are smashed together. Then the din dulls, a single piano note rings out, and a far away voice sings, “stop following me.” The request is not directed at you but at the shit storm you’re surviving. And then it’s quiet.
