It’s fitting that the first sound heard on Annahstasia’s debut record “Tether” is her lone voice. It’s shaky, simply an exhalation reminding the listener to find kindness even in the midst of this chaotic journey we call life. She bounces her way around an acoustic, making the listener’s relationship with the track feel up close and personal.
“Villain” slowly arises, filtering an almost exact comparison to the last. Her voice shadows like a haunting yet hopeful ghost, hovering through the waves of past mistakes, seeking to push past an ego in order to learn and grow. It isn’t until around the two-minute mark that we start to hear the lightly patted drums of Abe Rounds, carrying the listener’s attention to a higher platform. It stays there for some time, until out of the blue, a large crescendo is hit, taking the listener one more floor up on the elevator. Her voice lofts into a dense sound, though not the highest on the album. Some background singers become more apparent, as it slowly fades into an unbreakable silence.
The next track, “Unrest,” lives up to the name. The whole tune is shallow, except for some well-placed clarinet sounds from Hailey Niswanger, who makes this feel like a conversation between the listener and the lyrics. It seems as though this track is about a person whose internalized anxieties are from no apparent threat from the outside. It’s a confusing feeling, but very much real. The lyrics really hone in and question why worry may exist in this person’s life when “The sky didn’t fall in,” and the “Moon still sets.”
“Take Care of Me” then starts with a Fleetwood Mac-esque guitar lick, as Annahstasia’s breathy vocals linger overhead. Some epic piano chords are heard about halfway through, as an emotional plea for love and support is made. The track is good, but it doesn’t bring too much to the album. It seems like filler, only made to elevate the number of tracks included. It works, but feels bland.
“Slow” is next up. It starts off incredibly “slow”, and doesn’t get slightly interesting until a cameo from Obongjayer is heard. His unique voice is all that’s going for him, as he sings up a snoozefest. After he sings a couple of verses, it leads to a party of whispers, as the slow emotional context of the song preaches of slowing down in the midst of life’s constant pressures. I would have liked to see a buildup for this song worth staying awake for, as the end of this two-track run almost deterred me from the LP.
The last few songs definitely had me “Waiting” for this song of the same title. For the first time since the overture of the album, I feel like I’m listening to refined music. Music that was cared deeply for, shying away from the easy way out. Though hard to decipher, it still stands as the second-best song on the album. I bet it has a large, passionate meaning, but I also feel like it doesn’t need one. From a musical standpoint, this song brings everything needed to a current-day folk song like this one: lightly patted but crucial drums, fitting base boings, and passionate and heady vocals. It sounds like an old Alabama Shakes song, though definitely quieter, and not as produced.
This then flows into “Overflow,” the happiest and most entertaining track on the album. Shying away from any slow buildup, the drums and guitar just go right into it. From an entertainment and artistic standpoint, this song takes the gold medal, as the clear vocals of Annahstasia carry the track higher. I could picture this as the closing song in an impactful film, the ending carrying a deep meaning that sits with the viewer for minutes after its end. Although simple, the idea of letting go of things not needed brings the track a carefree vibe, as a break through of the boredom endured on the last 2-3 songs.
“All is. Will be. As it was,” subtly echoes in, over a slow church-like melody, combining Annahstasia’s soft guitar, with the subtle sounds of Ashley Fulton’s piano. Over top of it, a poem, spoken by Aja Monet, meditation running high. The beauty of not only the writing, but the simple yet effective instrumentation, preaches subtlety in a fast-paced system.
One thing this album has lacked thus far is the art of the buildup, but “Silk and Velvet” proves that sentiment to be wrong. It starts silky smooth, slowly building up into the best 20 seconds of the album. Cello kicks in, her voice heightens, the intensity builds up, almost like the breakthrough of peace talked about in the last track. It feels like someone is breaking through a set of chains, or quitting a job, as the idea of peace and tranquility rules above any other. It ends slow, leaving the listener to think.
Knocks can then be heard on a guitar, as “Satisfy Me,” slowly creeps through, though staying stagnant. The song is the ultimate chill song, almost like a de-stresser. It could have been left out, but at least the random instruments and sounds in the background give it a positive feeling not heard in the boring and slow tracks, as the choir towards the end of the song haunts the track.
The final competitor, making the podium, “Believer,” is a quintessential track, and will likely be for the rest of her music career. It starts with Benny Bock’s emotional synthesizer, setting the track up for success right off the bat. There’s a beat to it that hasn’t been heard before, yet it feels so nostalgic. There’s a perfectly timed electric guitar that comes in at all the correct times. The buildup heard is one of the best of all time, as everything gets louder and louder, eventually leading to the biggest and most impactful breakthrough yet. The feeling here is like no other, never getting old. Trust me, I’ve listened to this over 10 times since it first arrived.
All in all, this album had its ups and downs, similar to that of a rollercoaster, as the boring and straight tracks eventually grow into the epic loop that we all love.
