The ‘90s get all manner of hate ‘round these parts. It’s easy to understand why, especially if you lived through them as a teenager or 20-something. The current nostalgia for that decade is wildly overblown to the point of being a hackneyed cliche of itself. The key signifiers of that era are overwrought and over-commodified in ways we couldn’t have dreamed of 30 years ago. Not every single popular piece of intellectual property needs to be revived or rebooted. No matter how much money media moguls think there might be.
To be clear, the decade featured lots of amazing art worth remembering, and it’s good to look to history for inspiration. However, it has to be done with an eye for the future. Visiting the past must involve reinterpretation. There may be nothing new under the sun, but it’s possible to bring a fresh perspective with how you assess what came before.
This brings us to the music of Tallies.
This Toronto-based group fuses jangly guitars, dreamy vocals and lush fuzz-pop to fantastic conclusions. On their brand-new album Patina, these Canadians deliver crisp production and ethereal moods that had me conjuring up memories from my halcyon college years. Released concurrently on Bella Union, Kanine, and Hand Drawn Dracula, the buzzy nine-song project made me feel young again. I imagined sunny days spent on grassy lawns as I studied and wasted time with my friends. It’s everything you want from outsider ‘90s college rock, complete with nods to The Sundays, Cocteau Twins, and Sixpence None the Richer.
I’m completely enamored by the sensitive voice of Sarah Cogan.
Cogan’s angelic alto possesses a pleasant lilt counterbalanced by a curious catch in her throat. What could be heard as a quirky affectation comes across as charming. Arguably, her warmth and emotion do the heavy lifting. It also helps that she interjects a hearty dose of realistic sarcasm to temper the cloying sweetness of her lovelorn lyrics.
Let’s turn to the rollicking lead guitar work of Dylan Franklin. The guy must have been raised listening to the R.E.M. and Tom Petty because this music overflows with big Rickenbacker sounds. His arpeggios and melodic phrasings absolutely sing out through the speakers making it nearly impossible to keep a smile off your face. Needless to say, he gives off considerable Johnny Marr energy in how he whips out stunning guitar licks with effortless cool.
We also shouldn’t ignore the zippy, but never flashy, drumming of Cian O’Neill. He knows exactly how to set a mood and carry a song while never overplaying or dominating the mix. While he does possess a keen aptitude for groove without seeming like a metronome, it helps that he enjoys blurring the edges of the beat when necessary. That’s the sort of lo-fi garage aesthetic that prevents Tallies from sounding too precious or pretentious.
“Hearts Underground” kicks off with a vintage twee riff.
This delightful, jaunty rhythm packed with the right sort of nostalgia would make Pains of Being Pure at Heart proud. From there, Cogan sings about the perils of hiding your emotions from the important people in your life with the lyrics,
“See what you’re doing, and see what’s around. See what you’re doing. Your heart’s underground.”
On “Special,” we find the band doing a lovely Crowded House tribute as echo-soaked guitars twist and turn in a gauzy room. Plus, it’s easy to get caught up in the thrill of young love when Cogan intones sentiments such as,
“People say I’m special. Are you still calling all the time? Does it make special? Are you a special kind to try?”
“Memento” is a loping tune perfect for walking around the quad on a quintessential college campus hand-in-hand with your first serious partner. Franklin’s guitar ambles comfortably between slowly descending scales and fuzzed-out power chords to delicious effect. “When Your Life Is Over” recalls the iconic minor key melodies of The Smiths, especially when O’Neill does his best Mike Joyce impression. The album reaches its thematic zenith when Logan belts out “You learn to love lonely.” It’s as if she’s casting aside the remnants of a relationship gone awry and not because of anything she did.
Patina is a seamless distillation of ‘90s indie guitar rock.
It achieves this distinction through its heartfelt dedication to the form. The album stands firmly in the intersection of twee, slacker, and romantic by crafting artful arrangements and pristine melodies. Tallies hits all the right beats, strikes the necessary chords, and delivers the appropriate ambiance. These Canadians serve up immaculate musicianship and locked-in execution while also having a good time playing together.
Forget what you might have heard about the over-hyped influence of the ‘90s on the current generation of artists. That decade birthed plenty of excellent music, which means ample opportunities still exist for both reinvention and discovery. This album veritably overflows with period-specific jangle-pop, and it makes me feel young again. Instead of wallowing in nostalgia, these songs encourage me to revisit the music of my past with fresh eyes. It encourages me to determine what has held up – And of course, what hasn’t.
And that might be the key to the success of the project.
With impeccable craft in hooks, warm feelings, and jangling rhythms, Tallies clearly know how to pay dutiful homage to indie-rock history. In lesser hands, Patina would feel like a paint-by-numbers guitar-pop with bouncy energy and mopey lyrics. Instead, Tallies infuses those tired elements with a cheery effervescence and a penchant for fun. By opting for oddball optimism and earnest emotions over the genre’s familiar frowns, the band reinvigorates ‘90s college rock with flair.