Birds in Row have spent the past decade making albums about essentially the same question: How can people relate to each other as the world descends into chaos and division? This is fertile territory if you happen to make blowtorch-intense post-hardcore music. The consistency of the French trio’s subject matter demonstrates the adaptability of their artistry, because none of their three LPs have settled on the same sound or the same solution. On their 2012 debut You, Me & The Violence, there was little “post-” in their hardcore and little restraint in their ferocious antagonism. Six years later, We Already Lost the World opened up the possibility of finding common ground with opposing forces. Having realized the futility of mending fences, Birds in Row return with a new album, Gris Klein, that offers the way out: moving on and never looking back.
This is the band’s first release for Red Creek, a boutique label recently launched by Swedish post-metal icons Cult of Luna. Continuing the trajectory of their relatively scant catalog, Gris Klein trends towards accessibility. But it doesn’t indulge in typical crowd-pleasers like metalcore choruses or chiming post-rock crescendos. Though Birds in Row are now making six-minute songs with clean vocals and strummed guitar chords, “Noah” and “Trompe L’oeil” take on a jittery, La Dispute-style sing-talk simmer before reaching a boil. Trusting the suggestive powers of propulsion, the band use the pent-up energy of their previous work as fuel for uplift rather than demolition.
“You say you’re not one for confettis and hats,” Bart Balboa screams on “Confettis,” a kind of inverse of 2018 single “I Don’t Dance” that does away with the stop-start gymnastics, letting everyone get caught up in a pushpit of forward momentum. Though Birds in Row aren’t exactly dancing on Gris Klein, bodies are constantly in motion. “Confusing loneliness for freedom, solitude for a serum, and complaints for poetry,” Balboa shrieks, forgoing his most florid syntax for an unmistakable mission statement. To the degree that they’re immediately legible, Balboa’s lyrics convey the urgency of taking positive action towards negative energy. If there really is a better future for us out there, it won’t be based in capitalism (“Noah”) or nihilism (“Daltonians”).
The band has a better grip on pacing and mood this time around, and a better sense for how to use the rhythm section as a guide. When Gris Klein shifts to a preparation phase of its mission, the beats are more menacing and tom-heavy. When it’s time to lay waste to false prophets or weak philosophies, the energy comes in rejuvenating bursts. Birds in Row haven’t lost their taste for the visceral pleasures of more technical post-hardcore; the riffs of “Rodin” are cut up like a microhouse beat, seemingly impossible in their precision.
Gris Klein’s most crucial departure has little to do with the music. Previously, the band preferred to remain obscure; the members blurred their faces in photos and were identified only by their initials. This time around, they’re quite visible: Bassist Quentin Sauvé released an acoustic singer-songwriter album under his own name and Balboa can be heard chatting with former labelmate Jeremy Bolm on the Touché Amoré singer’s podcast. This all aligns with the record’s call to arms: How can Birds in Row ask the listener to drop their defenses without first showing their own faces? Rather than marking a clean break with their prior approach, Gris Klein considers the subtle but important difference between “going hard” and “moving forward.”
