Indigo marks the fourth full-length studio release of Wild Nothing, the moniker for Jack Tatum’s sonic explorations in the realm of shimmery indie rock. We’ve seen Tatum’s style change with each release; a devotee to growth and expansion, Tatum is not one to rest on the early success of the band, but has pushed himself in entirely different directions. Indigo sees yet another direction, but one that functions essentially as a patchwork quilt of past soundsyou can hear elements of prior albums, but Tatum has reimagined them into an album that burns brighter and bigger than the past.
Opener and lead single, “Letting Go,” positions Tatum to soar higher on this release than before. The guitars, ever jangly and bright, ease past fans into the sound. While familiar to Nocturne at first, the track then surges into infectious pop with the choral hook. Tatums vocals are high and resonate starkly at the top of the mix, cueing us into the glossy production that is present all over Indigo.Here is a more proto-typical pop song than weve heard from the dark and simmering Wild Nothing and it’s refreshingly glorious. Not to be outdone by sultry, “Partners in Motion,” whose echo-y percussion and vocal effects make for a 80s synth banger. When Tatum sings lines like, “I had a temper/but now I’m delicate,” the vocals are doubled over and drenched with reverb, urging you to join along. A toe-tapping bass line, playful and snappy guitar licks, and saxophone flesh out the tune into something great.
While the production on this album is glossy and clean, were not so far away from the humble beginnings of Geminithat we feel alienated by Tatum’s new sound. On the contrary, at a cursory listening this record is very easy to cling to with its catchy choruses, danceable synths. You get swoon worthy moments all across the eleven tracks, but probably the most sincere chunk of is the combination of “Shallow Water” and “Through Windows.” Both songs dive into what it means to be in a loving relationship through life on the road, the former a sweeping ode and the latter a tightly wound jam. With lines like “When I’m home/ there’s nothing I’m looking for/ that you havent already found,” Tatum crafts the wonderfully genuine “Shallow Water” as a number about being off the road and completely comfortable with another, the kind of love that people yearn for. Conversely, you get “Through Windows,” about being on the road and not wanting to give it up, but recognizing at some point Tatum will give it up, but that wont be entirely a loss: “Quit this circus life/ and take off my shoes/ I’m still paying what I owe/ to be noticed by you.”
It’s not all sunny pop though–the brightest gem, for me, is “Canyon on Fire,” which is a guitar heavy track that you are immersed in for its five-minute duration and then immediately play again. A brief moment of pause between the previous instrumental interlude of “Dollhouse” washes over you before the squall of electric guitar announces itself with a roar. Soon, you’re hit with dueling riffs that perfectly compliment each other while an even bass line chugs away and airy percussion keeps everything just on the verge of chaos. Tatum weaves us a picture of Los Angeles through his eyes, each line hitting with a soothing cadence that provides lovely juxtaposition to the snarling guitars. He asks, “Who would I be without you?” addressing a love or potentially the city itself, and then answers the question with “Someone I dont know,” acknowledging that Tatum is married to the subject–be it LA or a significant other. That kind of bond has made it impossible to imagine life otherwise. This all takes places within a simmering bridge before the track surges once more into full volume for a glorious victory lap. “Canyon on Fire” merges Tatum’s impeccable songwriting with the infectious guitar riffs from Nocturne-era to make for the best track on this album.
In the end, Indigo, is a well written record about love and being deep in the waters of it. Unencumbered by irony and disdain in an otherwise bitter world, the soaring pop of this album makes for a sincere feel-good (and just damn good) eleven tracks of escape, though far from devoid of introspection. Tatum has found his stride, crafting a collection of songs that youll find hard to turn from. Indigo is both intimate and lofty, hoisting you up with each track as it flies to new heights for dream pop.