ALBUM REVIEW: The Belle Curves - Tides & Rain
Photo by Debi Gustafson
“It’s as if each member of The Belle Curves was shrunk down and delicately placed into his or her own pocket of a thrift store cargo coat, connected via careful stitching but siphoned to their particular place in the fabric.”
There are many depressing things about being a millennial in 2026, but at the top of the list may be realizing that ‘90s music is dangerously close to being considered classic rock. Or are we already there? I didn’t stop to check because if that’s not a gut punch, I don’t know what is.
More importantly, the ‘90s are also becoming a full-circle influence on a lot of modern artists. Just as the ‘80s seemed to come back around and weasel their way into indie-pop for the last decade or so, the ‘90s are making a bit of a resurgence, whether it be the sugar-sweet 1-5-4 progressions of Third Eye Blind’s heyday, the fuzzy attitude of grunge’s mainstays, or even just the lo-fi(ish) production that so many alt-rockers are embracing once again. I could probably write a dissertation on how this likely goes hand-in-hand with an increasing “embrace the analog” movement amongst the younger generations, but that’s not why we’re here.
Hitting play on The Belle Curves’ new record, you get the sense that some combination of the above will permeate throughout its 11 songs, and lo and behold, you would be right. First impressions may conjure up comparisons to The Wallflowers or The Sundays, but the way Delaney Hafener’s vocals are presented and delivered more aptly calls to mind early Rilo Kiley, or perhaps better yet, Jenny Lewis’ work with The Watson Twins. This is especially noticeable in stand-out track and pre-release single, “Rainy Day Rider,” which is driven by an infectious bass riff and would not be out of place on The Execution of all Things, if you want the truth. The song’s chorus is an earworm if there ever was one, and you’ll be singing it to yourself for hours thereafter.
Early on, “You Cry Wolf” is the tune that really led me down the path my opening paragraphs walked along, the song kicking off in a Tom Petty manner with a lovely blending of acoustic and twangy electric guitar holding down the rhythm section. By the time the chorus hits, you realize you’ve got a shit-eating grin plastered on your face, the angelic background vocals and tasteful organ more than earning their keep. “I need to be wanted but I don’t want to be needed…” is the ultimate thesis statement here, delivered with such gentleness it’s as if Hafener is just humming it to herself, alone.
Elsewhere, there’s the lilting folk “Townes Van Zandt Karaoke” — recalling a scene from many-a ‘90s coming-of-age film, the incredible instrumentation decorated with a scenic road sandwiched between wheatfields. The penultimate “Your Backyard” is one of many overtly poetic songs in the bunch, with cutting lines like “What’s a girl to do when the very thing that makes her sing is paralyzing and keeps her from the stage? / Have you ever looked into the face of one you claimed to love and said the worst thing you could have to say?” And then there’s “I’ll Come Back Around,” which begins almost like a She & Him song before the Beach Boys-esque backing vocals take things in an entirely different direction.
That’s perhaps what’s most incredible about this record —- it’s the supporting instrumentals that really steer the ship within these songs. Hafener’s voice is of course front and center, as it should be, but it doesn’t ever feel like a solo record. (It’s here I’ll mention those phenomenal backing vocal arrangements one more time, as they honestly deserve their own write-up.)
The back half of the album features “Dust Can’t Kill Me” which admittedly interrupts the momentum a bit, but does serve the all-important purpose of segueing into the nearly six-minute “Do You See Me Now?” which focuses a good chunk of lyrical time on the simple act of baking bread. What I would give to be able to write such an emotional song about something so mundane. The downtempo track gently builds, but never explodes, always on the cusp of becoming full-blown arena rock — ultimately, it’s better that it doesn’t.
The entirety of Tides & Rain is expertly produced, with every sonic decision seeming purposeful and necessary. This could easily have been recorded through a typically modern, overproduced lens like some Mumford and Sons contemporary might shoot for, but the band opts for subtlety here to great effect. No elements overstay their welcome, and nothing ever steps on anything else. It’s as if each member of The Belle Curves was shrunk down and delicately placed into his or her own pocket of a thrift store cargo coat, connected via careful stitching but siphoned to their particular place in the fabric. As a result, the record may be lo-fi in sound, but in spite of this — or perhaps because of this — it’s grandiose in vision and execution. Safe to say The Belle Curves have deftly navigated the eponymous tides and rain here, and I have no doubt this will quickly become a favorite release from this year’s local scene.
The Belle Curves new record releases this Friday, April 24 on all major streaming platforms.
