Unless you happen to be Guided By Voices, it’s rare that albums come together quickly, but some take a fair bit longer than others. It’s fair to say that this album from Happy Little Clouds had a gestation period that was a little longer than most. Its lead single appeared on Bandcamp almost a year and a half ahead of the full length release, and other tracks have been slowly drip fed to an audience over time. In terms of promotion and with everyone streaming, this actually turned out to be a good move: at the point where people might’ve started to forget about this Boston based trio, they’d pop up with another tune, and receive another round of positive online press.
Befitting of something born from a slow creative process, ‘Embers’ is bigger than a mere collection of tracks. There are lyrical themes of questioning, of introspection, and an underlying aspect of emotional growth and change. This makes the material more sophisticated than some of its very 90s, often feel good arrangements might suggest on a surface level.
‘Higher’ opens the record with a really optimistic sounding tune. The huge, jangling guitars evoke some great 90s fare, crossed with the post-punk/new wave sounds of the first two Joe Jackson LPs. There’s a sense of their being a genuine power in this trio from the off, even before they toughen up and allow an increase in tempo. By the time the number hits its stride, Jac Mestal’s chopping guitar lines compliment their natural vocal brilliantly, and even when a slightly more melodic lead sound creeps in, the sharper edges of the Happy Little Clouds sound are more than evident. Although this creates a strong first impression on a musical level, it’s a little less direct when it comes to a chorus hook, but ‘Liar Fire’ quickly puts that right with almost immediate effect. At this track’s peak, Happy Little Clouds create something a little more palatable for a more melodically inclined ear, with a huge vocal soaring over something with more of a radio-friendly rock infused sound. The layers of keys still provide a link to a new wave-ish past, however, creating a hybrid that adds a little more of a mature sound to a base that’s still obviously linked to earlier HLC works. The ascending riff that opens the number catches the ear immediately, and even though the chugging rhythms of the verse mightn’t be quite as quirky as some of the band’s othercworks, the marriage between chunky riffs and crying vocal is rather powerful. If you’re not too familiar with the band, this track will make a good entry point into their catalogue.
‘Clear and Present Danger’ is much bouncier, and more bass led – and seems even more so, if played directly after ‘Liar Fire’ – but the heart of the track continues to sell the band’s gift for a great retro alternative melody. The verse makes a great feature of fat grooves and more chopping guitar, again hinting at a love of post punk. That would be enough to make this stand up, but a switch to a harmony driven chorus really makes the track. Derek Bergstrom’s muscular bass is key to making this work, drawing influence from Colin Moulding on those early XTC records, but the way he pushes against Jac’s rhythm guitar results in something even spikier. The band seem to be at their best when approaching all things punchy, but it’s great to hear the Clouds’ slightly poppier intents shine through on a strong chorus, creating a brilliant contrast with the help of harmony vocals, and this really helps the track to become one of the band’s best and most accessible tunes to date. For those who feel that chorus brings something a little too commercial to the table, an incredibly raucous lead break provides a brilliantly noisy detour, but factor in a great vocal from Jac, and this is definitely an album highlight.
The huge descending melody that opens ‘Lungs’ carries an echo of the chorus melody from Echobelly’s classic ‘Dark Therapy’, potentially taking the band further into the heart of the alternative 90s than ever before, but beneath the slightly grungy guitars, it’s another number with a strong, accessible heart. The tougher edges are balanced nicely by a selection of retro keys, occasionally sounding like they’ve been lifted from an old Joe Meek recording, and Jac’s abilities to rise into a full Linda Perry-esque wail give this darker number a lot of character. The meaty bass that drives ‘I’m Not There’, coupled with distorted guitars, gives even more of a feeling of a grunge era throwback, but those already into the band won’t consider this a bad thing; if anything, the contrast between Jac’s vocal and the downbeat elements of the music make everything feel hugely nostalgic – almost like someone’s rediscovered the Tracy Bonham debut. Fans of the style will possibly consider this an immediate standout, even though Happy Little Clouds have already shown a more natural affinity with upbeat material. The short ‘Offswitch’ blends the grungy aesthetic with rhythms that feel a little punkier, working drummer Jess Townsend much harder and pushing Jac’s guitar tones further forward in the mix. It’s a little more direct and sounds great when played loudly, but in keeping with the trio’s more typical “bubble-grunge” sound, those who have the time to listen a little more closely with discover some fine vocal harmonies.
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Tapping into something that feels like more “traditional” Happy Little Clouds fare, meanwhile, the hard rhythm guitar at the heart of ‘The Emperor’s Song’ immediately evokes the bubblegum influenced end of 90s alt-rock, with tunes like Veruca Salt’s ‘Seether’ springing immediately to mind. As before, this Boston based band add their own sprinkling of pop on a great number. Its 90s core is counterbalanced by a wall of 80s synths which, thanks to a great production sound, punch through the song’s noisier elements with ease. All of the elements work very naturally, but the accessible tones of the lead vocal really capture a magic by tapping into slightly more of an alternative pop/singer songwriter vibe than before, creating a brilliant melting pot of sound. In some ways, the push and pull between moodiness and melody that drove ‘Liar Fire’ comes into its own here, and with the aid of several oohs building an absolutely indelible hook throughout, ‘The Emperor’s Song’ presents Happy Little Clouds at their most infectious.
At the tail end of an already enjoyable album, ‘I Don’t Suppose’ injects a little more of a swung rhythm into another grunge/garage rock hybrid showcasing some superb drumming from Jess, before a complete change of mood brings some gentler sounds into play for ‘The Water At Your Feet’. A track that features a solo Jac, with voice and guitar, it allows for a little listener reflection before subtle bass creeps in, and a gently tapped cymbal indicates something is about to explode. …Except, in the hands of a band clearly not willing to revert to anything too predictable, it doesn’t. There’s a little more bass; there are a couple of rather teasing moments where Jac reaches for a couple of louder chords, but everything ultimately remains pleasingly sedate. It may be rather mellow, but that isn’t to say it’s without greatness: the moments where Jac reaches for a broader and louder vocal are glorious, and those alone help to carry the kind of track that really doesn’t aim for any kind of immediacy.
There are times throughout ‘Embers’ where obvious influences creep through the cracks, but unlike Hands Off Gretel and a couple of other acts from earlier in the twenty first century, nothing descends into the wantonly plagiaristic. Happy Little Clouds have more than enough talent to meld the sounds of their heroes into something that holds up brilliantly in its own right. The album’s best tracks are absolutely brimming with great guitar lines, and when the band allow some of their sharper edges to cut through, the material has an directness that’s impressive. For lovers of 90s alternative sounds, this is a recommended listen, and the fact that this band have naturally blended the familiar grunge tones with a few post-punk quirks leads to the kind of record that shouldn’t burn itself out too quickly.
July 2025