#Warpaint composure lyrics free#

I learned that, like me, she had hopped onto a plane from another country just to see Warpaint. When they emerged for their soundcheck – Emily Kokal wearing an oversized tee with a huge weed print and Theresa Wayman in her trademark tartan skirt – a woman near me started sobbing.

It was past midnight in Hasselt, Belgium in 2016, and I was standing in the front row with other drowsy festival-goers, waiting for Warpaint to hit the stage.

#Warpaint composure lyrics free#

When the words actually matter, even the loudest monster sounds sweet.Interview: Alt-rockers Warpaint's Theresa Wayman goes solo - Hong Kong Free Press HKFP Close Claws may be come out, and fangs may be shown, but stand tall and have no fear. In moments like that, when Warpaint’s lyrics match the trance-like state The Fool creates, their creation is unstoppable. The combination lays you down to sleep, only to suddenly change halfway through into a menacing lecture, complete with the relationship-defining line, “You live your life like a page from the book of my fantasy.” “Don’t you call anybody else baby/Because I’m your baby, still,” sings Kokal, as whispered background vocals slide into place behind her. “Baby” is the closest they get to a syrupy love song, which, with its down-home acoustic picking pattern, could easily pass for the beginning of a ‘70s rock ballad if sung by a Southern man. On an album so obsessed with texture, it seems lyrical brilliance is hard to find, which negates some of the stronger efforts to come. The first lyrics of “Undertow” are a confusing collision of colors and metaphors that stump even the most eager-to-decipher listener – “Your brown eyes are my blue skies/They light up the rivers that the birds fly over.” One can forgive such awkward imagery when the songs are musically well-constructed, but it still gives the listener pause. Its simple ‘60s pop rock chord progression is bubbly enough that it won’t leave you for days, and the reverb-drenched melodies that Emily Kokal, Theresa Wayman, and Jenny Lee Lindberg sing are hummable to an extreme, burrowing down into the deepest corners of your musical mind. The first single, “Undertow,” is a prime example of being stuck in this musical limbo.

While able to raise the hair on the back of your neck, The Fool, like many monstrous creations, sometimes lacks the necessary intelligence to be fully alive. Newcomer Stella Mozgawa’s drumming is excellent throughout, creating the military-snare feel on “Warpaint,” the funky break beat on “Majesty,” and the punctuation for the chant-along shouting of “Composure.” Mozgawa adds a cocky tilt of the head to the latter’s schoolyard vibe, complimenting its yells and basic riff with a hint of the more mature form the song takes a minute in. Notes come at you every which way, different phrasings and rhythms piling on top of each other like random paint brush splatters adding up over time to make a shape. “Bees” does not buzz up at you, but rather, it swarms around in the air with its soaking wet guitar tone. It’s this balance that makes select songs great. Such feelings of discomfort make up the dangerous tight rope Warpaint walks. It’s sonic torture in a small dose, bearable enough that it’s still good for the musical soul. The drums may get louder, the guitar more frenetic, but the hammer never seems to fully drop on The Fool, an album content with accepting this constant sense of anticipation. But if you’re waiting for an explosion, it’s never going to come. Chiming guitar comes in over the top, hitting the same circular melody over and over again, as a desperate voice sings, “And in the backyard/Into the night/We walk through fire/My love is your flashlight.” More layers are added, making the ever-growing soundscape the sole target for the listener’s concentration. The all-female quartet have created their own Frankenstein, a mixture of ghostly vocals, pounding drums and droning instrumentation, coming together to create nine songs that are “monster” cuts in every sense of the word.įrom the album’s first chord, a dreary, softly strummed pattern on “Set Your Arms Down,” it’s clear The Fool follows a formula focused on two things – repetition, and a constant build-up of sound. Warpaint’s debut full-length album, The Fool, is scary good – extra emphasis on the scary.