It’s the comedown after “White Knuckles,” the widescreen angst-and-joy-of-twinhood anthem that Tegan and Sara have been holding off on making. There’s the wrenching piano ballad “100X,” which delivers an extraordinarily empathetic apology for walking out on someone. The best moments on Love You to Death share the opener’s melancholy. Synth drama starts up midway through, but the song might not have needed it: The vocals are moving enough to have worked nearly acapella. The song itself is defined by a few different voice lines-natural and manipulated-that swirl around and interlock with each other, recalling both centuries-old madrigals and present-day peers like Haim. It’s about considering who you’ve become and not liking what you find-an extremely Tegan and Sara concept in that it’s less a demonstration of emotions that it’s a demonstration of thinking about emotions. The first track, “That Girl,” sets the album’s bittersweet tone in a very cool way. The chorus on “Faint of Heart” offers a suitable warning: “Real love is tough.” Some of the songs address a difficult period of sisterly conflict in their past, a topic they’ve said has been off-limits for them till now. Their new album, Love You to Death, continues the former indie-rock duo’s foray into mass-appeal new wave, but it’s darker, focused mostly on what it’s like to be inside a relationship facing hard times. With tight grooves, clipped syllables, and two voices sometimes in counterpoint, songs like “Closer” and “How Come You Don’t Want Me” nailed the moment when yearning overwhelms the impulse to repress. Hearththrob was about desire, a subtopic of love served spectacularly by Tegan and Sara’s craftwork. Their trick is conveying lots of information-melodic, rhythmic, and lyrical-while maintaining simplicity and elegance. They bring a scientist’s rigor and an editor’s clarity to the stereotypically mushy topic of love, as well as, lately, to the synth-pop template they’ve helped repopularize on radio. Listening less closely can offer the same satisfaction great pop music always does. Listening closely to Tegan and Sara, the twin musicians enjoying unprecedented popularity two decades into their career due to 2013’s irresistible Heartthrob, can offer the kind of satisfaction that comes from solving a logic puzzle. It’s a lonely life out there by singing in tandem, they create their own community: whether desire takes them to heaven or hell, they’ll always go together.We Expect Too Much From Our Romantic Partners Olga Khazan Still, the core appeal of Tegan and Sara has been the same since they were strumming acoustic guitars in coffee shops. The songs here don’t quite hit the same level of high-gloss overdrive they managed last time out, a problem for a band that prizes songwriting over the kind of vocal gymnastics that can turn a so-so synth-pop tune into an uncorked geyser of catharsis (elsewhere the wan piano ballad “100x” shows their limitations as confessional quiet stormers). “Boyfriend” has a track that recalls Madonna’s first album and bizarre-love-triangle lyrics that evoke New Order “White Knuckles” builds from pensive pianos and a dolefully rumbling beat into a cloud-riding chorus as they sing about “love twisted up like a chain or a nail” and “excuses for the bruises we wear.” Sometimes the emotional nuances they work into their late-nights can be revelatory – against the breathless rush of “Stop Desire” they sing “right where I want you, back against the wall,” then offer a heartwarming addendum, “trust when I’m honest, never let you fall.” It’s the kind of want you can build a world inside. He helps them create big, splashy songs that thrive on intricate intimacies – tangled love, barbed honesty, hard-won empowerment - with lyrics implying not only romance but friendship, familial bonds and artistic partnership as well. Once again Tegan and Sara are collaborating with co-writer Greg Kurstin, best known for his work with Adele, Pink and Kelly Clarkson.
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