Special Explosion’s debut album has the specs of an advanced degree in Pacific Northwest indie rock: It’s schooled in a syllabus of classics and supplemented by mentorships with the genre’s hallowed institutions, and it even took four years to complete. To make the record, the Seattle band set up shop in their hometown’s Hall of Justice, Portland’s Ice Cream Party Studios, and Marin County’s Panoramic House. The first two are respectively helmed by Chris Walla and Modest Mouse, while Band of Horses’ Why Are You OK was recorded in the latter. To Infinity spends most of its time triangulating the ornate fretwork, jittery rhythms, and widescreen splendor of those exact artists, while plucking from basically everything else in the regional canon: Beat Happening’s unnerving twee lyricism, the Spinanes’ alternately brash and cooed co-ed vocals, the Shins’ meticulous architecture, you name it. The first two tracks earn their titles of “Wet Dream” and “Perfect Song”: To Infinity is indie-rock wish fulfillment, the kind of record that inspires “they don’t make ‘em like this anymore” plaudits even if they never were exactly like this in the first place.
The atmospheric To Infinity is true to its surroundings in all aspects: verdant, spacious, and ever-changing. Maybe it’s irresponsible of Special Explosion to make their crippling dejection sound this romantic, but that’s the Pacific Northwest for you. “Tears that fall like rain on a sunny day” is the kind of lyric that should be completely off the table 99.9% of the time, yet it’s a testament to Special Explosion’s synesthetic powers that no other phrase would fit better into the second verse of “Waterfalls,” a song both bleak and blindingly bright that reimagines Sufjan Stevens’ Oregon album made in the frilly folk style of Illinois.
Special Explosion self-produced the record with the assistance of Mike Vernon Davis, a young engineer who worked on Modest Mouse’s Strangers to Ourselves and whose voicemail should be overflowing in 2018—despite all of the vibraphones and treated drums and sweetened vocals, To Infinity never sounds overproduced or expensive. Similar to Death Cab for Cutie’s Barsuk albums, the sound is crisp and tactile, the instruments deftly layered, the textures active participants in determining the emotional tenor; it earned the ultimate “game recognize game” endorsement from Chris Walla himself.
True to its inspirations, To Infinity is meditative and constantly in motion. Jacob Whinihan’s inventive drumming functions as a lead instrument throughout, pushing the impatient chorus of the otherwise mesmerizing “Cats” (“I’d like you to like me more than you’d like to”) and taking “Going My Way” from crestfallen slowcore to a sad skip around around the maypole. The first single, “Fire,” is the likely byproduct of Special Explosion’s contribution to Foxing’s bejeweled post-emo opus Dealer, a mesmerizing incantation of desperate hope building to a brassy, white-knuckled crescendo. “Your Bed” is the only callback to the liquid, mercurial Built to Spill-esque guitar of their promising 2014 EP The Art of Mothering, at least until it hits the phaser pedals and blisses out completely.
But unlike Isaac Brock or Doug Martsch, Andy Costello isn’t beset by having nowhere in particular to go, nor is he overwhelmed by his cosmic insignificance. They place their creative drive on the same level as astronauts and ancient warriors on “Gladiator,” but shortly thereafter, Costello moans, “I don’t even know if it’s worth it at all,” pulsing with the muscle soreness that follows a convulsive crying fit. “I’ll never have the guts to stick with what I do,” he admits on closer “So Long,” and in light of the band’s perfectionism and depressive streak, “I can’t do anything right” is a fitting final line for To Infinity.
Especially given the album’s painstaking creation, there’s a sense that the greatest underlying fear of finishing the record is figuring out what comes next. It’s not unusual for bands to inscribe the labor pains of an album’s creation in the songs themselves—writer’s block can serve as its own kind of inspiration. To Infinity is certainly in that class: “I can’t believe all the pain I would go through to say it’s not exactly going my way,” Costello sings, awestruck at his willingness to to compound his despondence. If Special Explosion have no more left to give right now, it’s only because they gave To Infinity everything they have.
