The Hotelier Goodness album is an intricately layered sentiment of home in its natural setting. On first listen the record sounds like a dismissive thought lost somewhere between indie rock, emo and punk. Yet as the music pushes forth story after story of complex relationships, the collective works of Goodness hardly sound so simple anymore.
The opening track speaks quite literally to you at entitled coordinates on the lakeside while staring at the moon, immersing in natural surroundings and setting the theme of the album’s simplicity in what almost sounds like a poetic form. In the incessant drum thumps of opening track “goodness Pt. 2,” dissonant guitar strums and the quiet thump of the bass cut in and out as vocalist Christian Holden thinks back of emotional spins without compass in hand. “Piano Player” recounts the sustaining of the room and crowd between different circumstances, from the straightforward pianists to knowing what love truly is, the backing band pummeling through in quickened pace. A sound collage between acoustic guitar duet and an outdoor group rendition of childhood memories plays softly quietly, themes of sharing gazes between the moon in specified coordinates where singer Holden would do exactly that.
Subtle hints of imagery play within the “Two Deliverances” room: an allusion to a secret world, walls tellingly obvious in their message, the character lead thinking back while plopped down on the floor, wondering about becoming new … Collective memories swarm through “Settle the Scar,” an updated version of a previous recording that still hang heavily. For all the stories recollected between each track the scar here seems to run deeper than all the rest. “Opening Mail For My Grandmother” is exactly what it sounds like, beautifully poignant as the reality of age clashes with the youthfulness of spirit. Yet while the woman still lives she can be sure that her grandchild will still come for her.
Coordinates listed with another duet grouped with silent murmurs plays yet again, a continuation of the trajectory before it with the moon yet again in full view. Though as times change so does the view and the reflection that comes with it.
A night out in the lightened snow set the stage for “Soft Animal” between man and dawn doe, offhanded Mary Oliver reference hinting to the existential outlook, repeatedly alluding back to that significant other. The backdrop of the “Sun” peeks through the love story of its author, with extended breakdown of faint snow wind recordings creeping through midway, as if to substantiate the gravity of that moment leading towards forever. “You In This Light” feels more urgent than its predecessors, looking at how a certain perspective can be alter even the most concrete of memories – a sort of rebirth of finding love yet again in the certainty of new discovery. The quiet piano chord sustains echo through the short “Fear Of Good” piece, with allusions to freezing atop the summit’s height only hint at what the fear may actually refer to; much like the song’s brevity you hardly get a chance to think straight.
Closing track “End Of Reel” gets lost in one image to the next: lost in the bend, mixing midnight with twilight, a firelight sendoff… all the while lost in the words of, “I don’t know what I want, what I want’s where I’ve been.”
It’s hard to know exactly what’s going on The Hotelier home base of Worcester, Massachusetts. A couple of years back Holden and company were gutting their emotions in the wake of an emo revival scene. Now, the group has found themselves comfortably happy with themselves in the middle of nature. Yet despite not knowing the band sound emotive as ever, freshly revived and fully developed in the wake of their more positive sound.