After listening to Pet Fox’s self-titled album, I’m left with one word: oceanic. On the track “How to Quit”, guitar chords burrow into the depth of their sound only to release and soften just a second later. All the while, the vocals carry a momentum that builds and and breaks as the cymbals and the snare bounce back and forth. The cumulative effect is wave-like. Even the lyrics, It’ll be alright / nervously breaking / down, echo the cascade of the oceans surf.
Yet, this seascape is often abrasive and turbulent, something that pushes back.
It’s stunning to hear Theo Hartlett, the vocalist and guitarist, balance the weight of these contrary impulses. His voice harbors an atmospheric softness that seems so separate from the relentlessness of his guitar. And yet, this shifts as his voice occasionally takes on an untested forcefulness. It’s as if he’s constantly rediscovering his own voice.
This leads me to a broader impression about the album. While some music places me in a certain moment in time—nights with friends, road tripping etc.—“Pet Fox” feels more revelatory and retrospective. The album’s repetition feels like musical rumination, a way of processing decisions and experiences. You can hear it in the lyrics.
In “How to Quit,” Hartlett assesses personal struggles and contemplates an uneasy transition to a better place:
Starting to feel minor setbacks.
On top of everything else in the way.
I’ll try to work out this issue.
Still on the fence about what to do.
“Disengaged” takes a similar approach:
Better than before,
I was ashamed to share how I feel.
Now I’m missing out.
The song starts slow, with drawn-out guitar chords and unhurried drumming. But then, out of this smooth, ambulatory swell, the drums and guitar surge momentarily. It foreshadows a later intensity when they strike dramatically together. And yet, even this rise settles once again. By the end, the song returns to its plodding pace and Morgan Luzzi enters with carnivalesque piano phrases.
At this tempo, it sounds almost like Mogwai from Come On Die Young. But what it actually is, is a dazzling kind of indecision. Just as the instrumentals vacillate between moods, the lyrics seem uncertain to settle in one place. Oddly, its amidst this unevenness that Pet Fox finds its footing.
Album Art by Andrew Marathas
