Music has a funny way of being released at the perfect time. Suddenly you have ten or eleven songs that seamlessly contain everything you’re feeling at the time. For instance, when The Maine dropped Lovely Little Lonely last year, it was the only thing I needed. Everything about that album was so in tune with my life at the time, I gorged myself on it. And in 2016, when Boston Manor released Be Nothing, the moody vibe and dose of anger was perfect for my situation at the time.
Sister Cities is not that album. From my very first listen, I was pretty sure that it isn’t what I need now, it’s probably what I’ll need in about three months. But that’s not a bad thing. I think I’ll grow with it, or maybe grow into it. I’m not enjoying it any less, but I am listening to it at a slower rate. Some things are meant to be inhaled. Sister Cities should be tasted, mulled over and carefully consumed.
The Wonder Years made an album so intricately poignant, I’m continuously floored by the subtle weight of it. It’s a sort of blink and you’ll miss it feeling that pops up over and over throughout the eleven tracks. With the themes travel and human connection throughout, it seems that maybe that’s the whole point.
This isn’t an album review. It’s more of a “hey, you should really go check this out and then report back and tell me what you think” sort of thing. Give it a listen, then a few more.
I’m embarrassed to say that it took me a good three years from finding out about this band to feel like I can call myself a fan. I was born and raised in Philadelphia so I basically bleed liberty bells and soft pretzels. You’d think it would have been an instant thing. Now I’m fully invested. Sister Cities pulled me in and by the looks of things won’t be letting go any time soon.
What They Don't Tell You 