ALBUM REVIEW: Silverware - No Plans

9/10

ALBUM REVIEW: Silverware - No Plans

San Francisco-based ethereal art-pop artist Ainsley Wagoner, who writes, records, and performs as Silverware, releases her brand-new album, No Plans, on April 23.

In addition to creating plush music, Ainsley is a product designer, who co-created the OAM project, which blends, sound, colour, and geometries. Prior to moving to the Bay Area, Ainsley made her bones in the Lexington-based art collective Resonant Hole. Since then, Silverware has released Move Here, Not Yet, and “Finish Line/Need Me Too.”

Listeners discern influences from Kate Bush, Weyes Blood, Mitski, and Joni Mitchell in Silverware’s sound, along with elements of indie-pop, synth-pop, alt-rock, and the glaze of art-pop.

Comprising seven tracks, No Plans begins with “Daniel,” opening on folk-flavoured colours, low and dark with luminous trembling accents. As the melody takes shape, light percussion and a rumbling bassline infuse the tune with an alluring rhythm, while Ainsley’s crystalline voice floats on velvety tendrils. Then the tempo changes, adding galloping impetus and waves of resonance. There’s a delicious acappella section near the end of the song.

Speaking subjectively, highlights include “Take Me With You,” which pushes out brawny colouration full of art-pop savours merged with punk-lite grunge. Harmonic shifts infuse the tune with creamy colours, followed by grating muscular washes.

“Important” juxtaposes thrumming sheens of synths against Ainsley’s varnished glass-like voice, polished with delicate, luscious hues. The title track rolls out on a measured rhythm topped by exquisitely gorgeous, sumptuous vocals. Hints of jazz and sophisti-pop permeate the harmonics, infusing it with moody voluptuous textures. When the piano enters, the song glows with splendid sonic radiance.

“31” rides a gentle guitar oozing traces of slow Southern rock timbres, while Ainsley’s soft, wistful voice imbues the lyrics with tender aromas. As the guitar collects volume and dimension, the song escalates with passion. After an almost quiescent breakdown, Ainsley’s voice joins with choir-like harmonies, infusing the song with gospel brilliance.

The final track, “Cat Feet,” travels on fuzzed-out guitars delivering grungy alt-rock colourants. A simmering organ imbues the harmonics with shimmering filaments as Ainsley’s chrome-like timbres surge forth on translucent high notes.

There’s a sense of imminence about No Plans as if melancholy fused with a multiplicity of imperceptible emotions to form music at once fragile and insistent.

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