The self-titled debut album from El Paso dream pop quartet Cigarettes After Sex is not an album that will get played at a beach. It is not an album for strip clubs, nor will it be heard at any party, shindig, get-together or hoedown. Rarely does a band name so encapsulate the mission statement of a musical project like Cigarettes After Sex. Cigarettes After Sex is an album purpose built to set the tone for the most private and intimate moments one can have. This album’s sound and scope are as singular as they are enveloping. It is certainly brooding for a dream pop record, but it is serene, and does their name more than justice.
Much of the credit for this goes to singer and band leader, Greg Gonzalez. Gonzalez produced the entirety of the record, singing and playing lead guitar on every song. His vocals are soft yet certain, often taking centre stage throughout a track. but no one piece dominates a song. Instead, they layer atop one another, working together to build the intimate atmosphere Gonzalez desires. The guitars are ethereal, while the skeletal drum patterns work to accentuate Gonzalez’s vocal melodies. The wide spacing and airy sound of each instrument harkens back to ‘Strange Fruit’-era tape saturation, bringing a warmth not usually found outside of old vinyl. This smoky aesthetic gives Cigarettes After Sex the feel of a lounge act in a dive bar, playing love songs for heavy drinkers. It’s this open air sound more than anything else that keeps the listener engaged. Having Gonzalez’s solitary voice and vision carry the album from beginning to end lulls the listener into a trance-like state that flows seamlessly from track to track. Throw the song ‘Flash’ on your turntable, and your room immediately starts to fill with fog and stage lights. This is where the band is at their best.
The lyrics on this album often reflect relationships gone awry, but in a far more direct way than one is used to in slowcore or dream pop. Take the pre-chorus of the closing track, ‘Young & Dumb’, as an example; “You wanna go where the girls are young & dumb & hot as fuck / Where they’re dancing in the street with nothing on”. It’s not often you find a record as ambient as Cigarettes After Sex use such biting language. The band plays every song as straight as possible, amplifying the wit of Gonzalez’s storylines. When he revels in his girlfriend showing her breasts, “on the swing set at the old playground”, he plays the role of an innocent school boy both sharply and seductively. The smoothness with which Gonzalez sings belies the nature of what he wants to tell you, letting you in just as far as he wants to. Gonzalez thrives in this space. The singer plays the dichotomy between the vibe of the album and the lyrics he uses with utter ease.
Sonically, the atmosphere this album creates is intoxicating. Structurally, however, Cigarettes After Sex falls short. Each song follows a very basic formula, which comes to the album’s detriment as the tracklist moves forward. Early cuts like ‘Each Time You Fall In Love’ provide a sombre change-of-pace to sunnier tracks like ‘K’ and ‘Apocalypse’, but when the simple drum patter of ‘Truly’ starts the song off, it’s difficult not to feel a sense of déjà vu. In two or three song sets, this album packs an extremely potent punch. Taken over 10 songs and nearly 50 minutes, the smokiness can suffocate the passion one may have had at the start of the album.
Front to back, this record is the soundtrack to what happens after the bedroom door shuts. Cigarettes After Sex have created an unparalleled sound for a debut album. While the album drags towards the end of the tracklist, the totality of the record shows a band as fully formed and unique an act as one will find in dream pop today. In smaller pieces, this album is some of the most compelling dream pop to come out this year. With time and maturation, Cigarettes After Sex could find themselves at the top of their genre as well.
Words by Sebastian Campbell