Hinds: I Don’t Run (Mom + Pop)

Hinds’ lo-fi bounces like beaches. It rattles with preemptive nostalgia, a soundtrack to a summer yet to happen. From the very beginning of the very first track, it’s there, revving momentum. The guitar is grinning. It's hair is done; its feet are still sandy. You coming? Let’s go. The Madrid-based group’s first album, Leave Me Alone, was caught up in the undertow of its own salty haze, its lyrics for shouting to long after midnight. On their newest release, I Don’t Run, they’ve focused more on the truth of the party - all the while amping up their deliriously fun hooks.

Ana Perrote and Carlotta Cosials are back as two parts of one rambling voice, which cleaves to harmonize and figure-eight in and out of canon -- the latter of which adds to their sing-along allure but also allows them to stuff in even more verses. Every so often Carlotta’s voice lashes out, her gravelly wail impatient with emotion. 'I just wanna know it's over'” she heaves, the pronunciation meaning her v's verging on b, her slurred s’over’s tumbling into sober’s as the words landslide out.

Hinds has learned that their lifestyle straps them into the liminal, the in-betweens: of sobriety/drunkenness, dreaming/waking, being with someone/going without. Home and away. They’ve figured out that touring musicians’ hearts necessarily exist in parts. They can reach 'something close to love', but maybe not quite get there. Never quite stay. It’s part of the job: their van always leaves.

Verse changes chronologize their longings’ buildups and breakdowns. 'But how am I supposed to touch/ like/ love you and stay away?' they wonder on Soberland. On Finally Floating, they wake up 'lonely', 'lonely', and 'lonely one more time', but then 'furious' and 'nauseous'. Their sadness sours, the old love like a hangover. They’re sick of feeling this way, being 'stuck in this phase', so they retaliate, 'I need to stay awake tonight'. They’ve brought their guitars, they’re ready to dance.

Their waning willingness to maintain the illusion of fun is fully depleted on the album’s final song, Ma Nuit. The rock personas are gone, their only backup the birds. Their voices ache, their uncharacteristic use of their native Spanish and French reminding us that even singing in English is at one remove. Still not home. Still losing something. They sing about their five-hours-of-sunlight lives, their lovers tiring of waiting for planes. The underbelly of fun. The truth of touring. The cost of doing what they love: leaving what they love. 'A veces quiero llorar', Carlotta repeats, which translates as Sometimes I want to cry. Then, 'A veces quiero de puedo seguir': Sometimes I want to be able to continue. Implicating that, sometimes, she doesn’t. But in the penultimate verse, Ana sings, 'Attends-moi, t'en vas pas. Moi, je sais que la nuit/ Te rendra tout que je t'ai promis'. Wait for me, don’t leave. I know that the night will provide all that I promised.

With this album, Hinds has proven that they know what a night can contain. Their sound reigns over the pre-drink and the party; their words inhabit the After. And if we trust them, if we hop in they can 'bring' us to 'the morning light'. They can help us burn out the night in all its tumult.