Songs by Carissa’s Wierd sound like a secret. They are the kind of band who would intentionally misspell the word “weird” in the name of their group. Singers Mat Brooke and Jenn Champion sing humble melodies in hushed tones, like a friend under the covers with you whispering, making you promise not to tell.
Everything about this band makes them feel distant. If their songs were to get stuck in your head, they would feel like a vague memory, not a track. The group was based out of Seattle and disbanded in 2003. Many of their albums are rereleases, so in a way, they are composed of memories – of topics and melodies once forgotten.
The signature quietness, delicacy, of their vocals often make it difficult to know exactly what they are talking about. Until only recently, I believed my favorite song of theirs, “One Night Stand“, was a charming reflection on a momentary connection. About two lovers who encounter one another briefly, sexually, but are mutually touched by the experience. I assumed I heard the words:
Must be you holding my hand
All my thoughts are slipping out of my head
Seemingly a wonderful evening
Turned into a sunny sunrise
Seemingly all the best feelings
Turned to my pleasant surprise
I’ve loved this band for around four years now, and I was happy to have a happy song. So much of music is dreary or confessional or superficial, but this song was real. It wasn’t until just this week as I was singing along that I decided to look at the words. I had been mistaken:
Seemingly a wonderful evening
Turned into a sour sunrise
Seemingly all the best feelings
Turned to my unpleasant surprise
Must be a hole in my hat
'Cause there's a hole in my head
And it opens up
This isn't me at all
It’s okay that I now love another sad song. Most of my songs are sad. If anything, my new understanding of “One Night Stand” now coincides with my favorite quality of music: ugly but honest. And its no coincidence that the slogan happens to be the name of my favorite album of theirs.
I love music that doesn’t try to be more than it is. I love lyrics that extend rope to you, beckoning you to grab on and be pulled by their story, by the feeling being communicated. I love songs that don’t shy away from hard feelings but don’t exaggerate either. Carissa’s Wierd embodies this concept for music. Songs like Heather Rhodes, Drunk With the Only Saints I Know, and Blanket Stare all whisper their melancholy, the words neatly tucked under somber strings and atmospheric rock. The overshadowed lyrics beg you to lean in, to hear the whispered secret. And I’m still listening to learn what they have to say.
Photo by John Matychuk on Unsplash
HAVOC MUSIC 