Chastity Belt — Live Laugh Love
Qobuz new release review (March 2024)
Pacific Northwest indie rockers Chastity Belt have evolved quite a bit over the last decade. From the spiky, sort of jokey jangle-punk of early material like “Giant Vagina” and “Seattle Party” through the whispery, downcast languidness of 2019’s self-titled album, they’ve been a band that has found a way to be lush and dreamy while also maintaining the fiery weirdness that informed their origins. While they’ve never been a totally self-serious band — always willing to both have a little fun with their material (see: “Giant Vagina”) and poke a little fun at themselves — much of that humor has now melted away, despite Live Laugh Love’s quasi-ironic title and ludicrous album art. Instead, this is an album that indulges — nearly to the point of self-indulgence — in reflection and introspection. Recorded over three years, LLL starts off with “Hollow,” a gentle tune with a laid-back rhythm, languorous open chords, and lyrics like “There’s a lie/ That we all tell/ I don’t mind.” The band’s trademark harmonies also shine early on, but “Hollow” sets a tone for the album that shifts away from angular irony and deeply into the woozy twilight aura of their more recent work. “Chemtrails” is as moody as it is muscular, somehow combining ethereal vaporousness and chugging rhythms, while “Funny” is twangy and twee, but also is unable to shake a vibe that wobbles between resignation and dissociation. Most of Live Laugh Love sits right in this pocket, a bit of a midtempo miasma that’s evocative of a distracted sadness, but seldom bristling with any sort of drama. While this material easily incorporates gorgeous guitar work, intricate rhythms, and strong melodies — not to mention occasionally heart-wrenching lyrics — dynamics are notably lacking. As LLL winds down, that approach begins to feel as if it has been thoroughly explored, but somehow, the penultimate cut — the five-minute “title track” of “Laugh” — thankfully manages to add a little bombast to mix things up; while it’s still absolutely another slow-burning bit of melancholy, the rock-solid harmonies and almost-crunchy guitars provide enough textural contrast to make it stand out.
