You can sense that North Carolina rock trio Late Bloomer hears Dinosaur Jr., Hüsker Dü, and Nirvana differently than most revivalists, that they’re doing so without any pretense of sounding cool. In fact, Late Bloomer don’t think of their heroes as "indie rock" at all, but rather as some of the most popular bands of their time, actual heroes who deserve to be spoken of with grand gestures.
Though Late Bloomer’s forerunners have their moral, ethical and sonic superiority played up in Our Band Could Be Your Life, one thing that gets understated is that those bands were the ones that made it (if not necessarily financially). And so Late Bloomer sees no issue with playing this kind of music as straight-up radio rock. Opener “Use Your Words” buzzes through a descending chord progression we’ve heard countless times as well as a lyrical paradox about the failure of language; there’s the fuzzed-out guitars, the thin leads over chunky, descending chords, the major 7ths offering a ear-turning dissonance. And yet, whereas most bands of this sort allow or prefer their vocals to be buried, Late Bloomer wants to be a pop band rather than a guitar band, maintaining the guileless melodic simplicity of early Cloud Nothings with the brutal pace and intensity of their present work.
While a strong lead single, Things Change quickly diverts from "Use Your Words" with a couple of reverberating anthems that go on for five minutes and more, recognizing that Kurt Cobain and J. Mascis likely played in the same venues as U2. “Dr. Abernathy” and “Children” are proto-grunge transferred to an arena, though that doesn’t make them Pearl Jam; you hear a band that’s opening for someone at that level, belting it out even as maybe 1/4th of the attendees slowly file in.
There’s a degree of confidence that’s necessary to make music this familiar sound like it’s destined for something bigger than local acknowledgement; the dealer metaphor of “Dr. Abernathy” goes back damn near a half century to Revolver but Neil Mauney belts it out like he’s the first person to ever cut out the middleman between the effect of the medicine and the guy who prescribes it. On the next track, he yells “I’M NOT WHO I THINK I SEE IN THE MIRROR!” and breaks out into some fancy hammer-on riffs like they’re trying to land a Guitar World transcription in 1995. If you stop for a second, “Mirror” sounds like positive reinforcement and epic negation at the same time, in other words, an alt-rock hit.
These moments tend to happen more often when Mauney is at lead; though bassist Josh Robbins has the more distinct vocal tone, Mauney’s better with the one-liners. Quite literally, as his verses tend to be a single phrase delivered with Bill Callahan’s acerbic, deadpan succinctness—“I heard you like Jimi Hendrix too/ You smoke potpourri and then you go to school”; “I lost all the cassettes you gave to me/ There was good stuff on there." Conserving energy by not really giving a shit becomes a manifestation of intelligence. And the emotional tenor of the LP is appropriately delivered on the title track: “Things change/ I won’t change”. Is Mauney proud of being more unyielding than an inanimate object or the metaphysical? Or is this a terribly depressing confession?
There is a stubbornness that causes Things Change to wane in its second half, and that’s Late Bloomer remembering their current situation: they’re a newish indie band in a relatively marooned indie rock locale (Charlotte) with a regrettable name knocking around in small shows. And the ambition occasionally reflects that: “No Mistakes” tastes of Tropical Skittles and the first Surfer Blood album, elsewhere, they’re doing decent variations on Yuck’s better songs. They’re still catchy, though Things Change wouldn’t really merit mention if Late Bloomer did nothing but exceed lowered expectations or just sound like a more polished version of their very undistinguished self-titled debut.
On the whole, Things Change is a nice surprise, an opening act that actually keeps your attention for the half hour they’re allotted, something that’s always a treat regardless of what genre it’s working—you don’t hear “potential” or the next great advance in indie rock. Maybe they’ll be emboldened by attention, maybe they’ll decide to get day jobs, maybe they’ll continue the exponential improvement. That’s all up to Late Bloomer and how much they’re willing to change.
