What is a "Gulfer"? Is it, A) a semi-aquatic mammal, similar in appearance to a seal, but with closer set eyes and a bit of a comical overbite, B) a retired gentleman who left his wife to live in a shack and practice his stroke with a 9 iron along the cost of the Seno Mexicano, or C) a Canadian band who released their fourth LP titled Third Wave with Topshelf Records on February 28 of 2024. I'm going to level with you, chief; there was a point in my life when I couldn't have answered this question. That time has passed, though. Not to spoil things for you, but if you're not on the up and up Re: Gulfer**, now's the perfect time to get familiar. While treading purposely in a very familiar cross-section of 4th-wave emo, shoegaze, and Pup-y-loving pop-punk, Gulfer really manages to catch the ear in surprising ways. One such brilliant penchant is the tendency to "theme" certain aspects of their songs to add a charming layer of ironic emphasis to their meaning and take full advantage of the medium's form. What do I mean by this? Well, for example, there is the track "Cherry Seed," where the lyrics express feelings of being overwhelmed and weighed down by future fears- particularly, there is a verse that reads, "as the sea fills / up with strange chemicals / we all wanna change but it's difficult / and we're mostly water anyway," and is sung in a washy, drifting lilt, as if the band was literally being carried out to sea while reciting these lines, a delivery that works in damning harmony with the white-capped waves of MBV-radiated distortion that waft off its guitar chords like smoke billowing up from the roof of a burning house- it's the kind of fire you could drown in. Then there is the overheated, pickup-press of "Too Slow," ironically one of the faster tracks on the album, rough riding rocket of a track that handsprings into a break-beat interlude of its finale as if to emphasize the absolute dissociation and provable suspicions expressed by the singer as he races against a world that threatens to leave them behind in its relentless, noxious whirl. Lastly, I'll direct you to "Vacant Spirit" whose mist-tinted, rubber-walled chords contain a strange guest in the form of a wistful shade of guilt- a stubborn spectral caller which the protagonist of the song attempts to ward off with repeated pleas of "I know, I know, I know..." saying as if he were thumbing through the beads of a rosary, pursuing unearned absolution, only to be swallowed by the spectator and dropped unmoored into a merciful haze of nostalgic splendor, indicating a kind of reconciliation with the object of his dread. As I hope I've made clear, Gulfer has put an incredible amount of care and forethought into this record, which, beyond any aesthetic twists, flat-out rocks as hard as you'd expect a record to by a group who counts Hotline TNT and Prince Daddy and the Hyena as their simultaneous peers and influences. Catch this wave while it's cresting, or get left high and dry!
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