Narrow Head’s previous album, 2020’s 12th House Rock, had a grim outlook. It was a document of total depression, its lyrics populated by apathy, self-loathing, and substance abuse. Accordingly, it sounded dirty and grungy, calling back to ’90s alt-metal with a hefty dose of numb shoegaze. Around the time that album came out, vocalist and guitarist Jacob Duarte was in crisis, dealing with friends dying and the “spiritual trials” that come with it. The re-evaluation of his perspective and priorities prompted by that experience fuels Moments of Clarity, the Houston band’s third album.
While that last record called to mind an inward angst, Moments of Clarity is anthemic and explosive. The tones are bigger and smoother, Duarte punches his lines and elongates his vowels, and the Britpop-ish sneer he tended to sing with on 12th House Rock is gone, replaced with a blissful coo. “The Real,” a big highlight, feels, if not quite ecstatic, then at least emphatic, as Duarte sings: “How good does it feel/To be you, to be real?” The electronics-tinged “The World” has that effect too, as Duarte imparts advice to someone more lost than he is. “The Comedown” offers this conclusion to kick into gear its mammoth outro: “You should know I’m getting older/I lost myself and it feels so good.”
Confusion and angst sit alongside revelations like these, creating a muddy emotional mix. “Trepanation” is Duarte imagining, or begging for, a hole drilled in his skull. “Fine Day” and “Moments of Clarity” are bitter breakup songs, while “Breakup Song” is serene and accepting. Even the aforementioned chorus on “The Real,” when taken in the context of the rest of the song’s lyrics, could easily read as sarcastic—it’s the earnestness in Duarte’s voice that sells it as otherwise. He pulls a similar trick on the stirringly poppy “Sunday”: “Fall in love, see things through/And I know I’ve had enough of it.” Is he pledging to the idea or writing it off? These contrasts and ambiguity create a tension that pays off with the release of each big, triumphant hook.
Tension and release are key to the instrumentation too. In the vein of alt-metal bands like Quicksand and Helmet, upfront, weighty bass guitar gives everything a steady drive, pinning songs down while guitars lurch from restrained verses to unleashed, enveloping choruses. “The Real” and “Trepanation” do this best, the former driven by its momentum and the latter its simple yet burrowing vocal melody. “The Comedown” goes for the slow-boil approach, pulling the tempo down and taking almost two minutes to kick in with an absolutely crushing guitar sound.
Generally, the heaviness on this album is more about creating or sustaining a vibe than it is a source of vitality. There are tastes of a more biting heaviness on “Trepanation,” “Gearhead,” and particularly on “Flesh & Solitude,” which features screamed backing vocals and churning guitars. These are highlights of the album, platforming its darkness in the same way the catchy parts do its light. The musical middle grounds between these poles are where the album is weakest—“Breakup Song,” “Caroline,” and “The World” aren’t particularly memorable, musically or otherwise. But at its best, Moments of Clarity is an effective illustration of the process of clawing your way to some meaning, knowing that otherwise you’ll be destroyed.
