During its formative years around the turn of the millennium, the Polyvinyl label was filled to capacity with Midwestern, post-rock-tinged emo bands, most of them high on talent but low on star power. That was never a problem for Rainer Maria. In an emo scene that was somehow even more male-dominated than today’s, singer Caithlin De Marrais stood out for both her poetic flair and her fearless range. She could sound at once bashful and vicious, equally convincing as a sensitive soul or an agent of unadulterated rage. There weren’t many truly dynamic presences in Rainer Maria’s niche corner of indie-rock. De Marrais was one of them.
The band’s original run ended if not quite on a bum note, then with a whiff of defeat. Bankrolled by the short-lived startup label Grunion Records, 2006’s Catastrophe Keeps Us Together smoothed the band’s rough edges in hopes of porting their act to alternative radio and capitalizing on the market Death Cab for Cutie created with Plans. The album failed on launch, but it did finally put to rest a question that had circled Rainer Maria for much of their career: With a real push, could this band be big? Apparently not. The trio played their farewell show later that year.
After their breakup, the band scattered. De Marrais went the singer/songwriter route on a couple of soft-hued solo records. Guitarist Kaia Fischer released a 2008 solo album, then devoted herself to Buddhism, while drummer William Kuehn took on gigs all over the world. Those different paths, and the very different lives the trio has led over the last decade, may account for why the band’s nails-tough reunion album S/T (not self-titled, just S/T) sounds as unbridled by the past as it does. Unlike so many reunion records, it makes no pretenses of capturing the band as they used to be. Rainer Maria are in their 40s now, and they aren’t so naïve as to think they could recreate the sprightly innocence of their first records, let alone improve on that youthful version of themselves.
They aren’t interested in picking up where they left off, either. Instead, S/T corrects the great miscalculation of their final albums, which largely recast the band as a showcase for their frontwoman—a shift that paid off for the band’s one-time tourmates Rilo Kiley, but cost Rainer Maria something essential. De Marrais may have been the band’s main draw, but it was their group interplay that gave the trio their edge. They were never able to muster the same intensity once they phased Fischer out of backing vocals on 2003’s Long Knives Drawn. What a thrill it is, then, to hear Fischer back behind the microphone of S/T’s thundering opener “Broke Open Love,” finishing De Marrais’ thoughts again. The dynamic isn’t quite like it was before, but nothing about this version of the band is.
The new Rainer Maria is slower, heavier, and more methodical than the old one. They swing less but land more blows. Early-album highlights “Suicides and Lazy Eyes” and “Lower Worlds” each lock into a beefy riff with an ever-tightening grip. The latter song has the album’s single greatest thrill: Fischer’s drill-sergeant injections (“SLAM SHUT/THE DOORS!”), set against snarling guitars and a nasty rumble. (Kuehn produced the album, and it’s far and away the most bottom-heavy thing they’ve ever recorded.)
Everything about their sound has calcified, including De Marrais’ voice. She still sings of physical intimacy as an ongoing negotiation, but time has worn the sweet veneer off of her titanic howl. “I need you bigger/I need you honest/I need to hear you call for me,” she huffs on “Possession,” laying out her demands with an authoritative bite that lays clear her upper hand. De Marrais must have put in work to sound this fierce.
Rainer Maria will almost certainly be remembered as they were in their earliest incarnation: wide-eyed literary buffs, singing with an air of optimism about achy hearts and making out. That version of Rainer Maria was important for a lot of people. But should they be remembered as the hardened power trio they’ve grown into, Rainer Maria can be proud of that, too. There aren’t many groups that have repackaged themselves so successfully this late in the game, and fewer still with a reunion album that stacks up this well against their most cherished work.
