A title only a blogger could love…
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Britt Alderfer: The husband-and-wife duo that formed the band Tennis have never been interested in austerity. Their preoccupations include such heavy matters as escape, liberation, and heartbreak, but they paint their themes sonically like a sunset or a massive sundae-in-a-sugar-cone: sweet and fleeting, dramatic, maybe a little drippy. This has led me in the past to compare them to ’60s girl groups, especially when they were singing about dead boyfriends, and I often go back to this lens. Their first album, detailing a personal boat trip, hadn’t even been intended for public consumption. Now they’ve got Patrick Carney of the Black Keys producing them, and though I dislike him, it’s beside the point because their sound remains constant. There’s a glory and poignancy in reflecting on things that aren’t meant to last, like first love, youth; the sweetness becomes paired with a knowing ache that lingers long after the bloom is off the rose. Alaina Moore, Tennis’ lead singer, is no actual teen and her perspective does not pretend to be, so this causes a doubling-back on that ache. Tennis are the sound of good times just about to pass. Their singles are often the best tracks on the albums — short and hooky, packing a punch, a little above the rest — and I find myself returning to their 5-song EP from last year far more often than either of their LPs, but I hope their upcoming album Ritual in Repeat is able to sustain the magic of this first track for a bit longer. When I first read the title “Never Work for Free,” I wondered if it was going to be some commentary on The Times We Live In and Being an Artist, maybe because I’d just been reading Ellen Willis, but upon actually listening to the song several times I think it’s probably about love and wandering. Which could still relate back to the deal of being a musician after all, but in a way that’s organic, not necessarily timely. Alaina can’t live off of metaphor, baby, she needs more. I get it, now, and maybe even later.
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Alfred Soto: Cute Nick Rhodes synths, cute hiccuped vocals, cute riffs. How much?
[5]
Thomas Inskeep: While Tennis’s previous work squarely hits that late-’80s college radio sweet spot for me, reminiscent of Blake Babies and 10,000 Maniacs, this comes off like Haim if they were fans of the Sundays and Yo La Tengo: super sunny and perfect for summer. Alaina Moore’s voice is light and lovely, accented by subtle synth waves and a perfect little economical guitar riff.
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Anthony Easton: The coldness of this is perfect, a concise number about emotional containment that rests pretty much on a glacial core of pure unemotional lassitude.
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Patrick St. Michel: The title’s designed for people like me, currently tapping my foot while hoping checks end up in the mail. Thing is, after that opening shot, little about this lyrically strikes me, just some vague hints of getting away from the past and pretty straightforward love talk. But the way this song skips ahead, and those syllable hiccups, are an easy-breezy joy that practically betrays the song’s title.
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Katherine St Asaph: Some things I love: not working for free; chirpy Madonna vocals; poolside-radio backing vox Haim have reintroduced to us; simple drum pats; imaginary versions of summer with breezes and water burbles instead of sweat and heat.
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David Sheffieck: Fluffy summer pop with a solid hook – perfect for when you unexpectedly need to throw on something fun for background music, but unlikely to linger beyond the fade.
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Brad Shoup: Talking about Tennis’s appearance on Q with Jian Ghomeshi on the way to a late-night picture with Catherine might be one of those moments that crops up for decades to come. Last night I was surprised to discover the carefree sailors from the radio doing laidback funk and R&B pop. Alaina Moore is yet another indie-pop vocalist I’ve mentally filed next to her band’s guitar reverb, but she gets how to make a vocal hook, and how to run a topline against it. “Never Work for Free” still isn’t much past bass/guitar/synth/drums, but that much, muchever as it is, is due to Moore.
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