Font: 'Strange Burden' Album Review

Font Collage Rhythm and Absurdity Into the Dynamic, Dominant Strange Burden

Last time I spoke with Font, they were eager to put their work to tape, but they had a healthy amount of apprehension about capturing their precarious balancing act of chaos and harmony in a recording. The quintet of vocalist/bandleader Thom Wadhill, guitarist/sampling savant Anthony Lawrence, bassist Roman Parnell and dual percussionists Jack Owens and Logan Wagner have been steadily gaining a cult following in Austin, Texas with their dynamic, energy-packed performances and unique, unrestrained sound. After two years of having only one recorded track to their name, Font have finally bottled their sonic lightning into Strange Burden—a seven-track debut that boasts a skillful balance between intellectual sophistication and unbound creativity.

In pure Talking Heads fashion, rhythm and absurdity drive every aspect of Strange Burden. Font pair unlikely things together in a collage of delightful musical textures that waltz together in harmonious glee—as if they are reaching through the stereo with a guiding hand and asking you to dance. And, with beats like these, you can’t help but move. Even when operating through a multitude of moving parts, each sound still stands strongly on its own. In a band with two drummers, hefty bass, dynamic sampling and a dominant lead vocal, there stands the possibility of swallowing themselves whole, yet throughout each track, Font walk the fine line with unmitigated grace.

They blast us into their supersonic landscape with the whooshing atmospheric sampling intro of “Golden Calf,” which bursts into a screeching medley of percussion from Owens and Wagner—matched only in energy with the formidable yell from Wadhill. The track also mixes in a more melodic vocal from Wadhill, who traditionally strikes with his usual strained, shouty presence. “Golden Calf” exists as a mirror of society’s fear of the unknown—how it clamors for an intangible deity to represent the virtue of the world yet falls victim to worshiping the wrong powers. In the Bible, worship of the “Golden Calf” is an act of apostasy—meaning the very thing that drives the fear to worship will be the people’s undoing after all. It’s a heady opener to Strange Burden, an album that fits in line with a band set on sitting outside of any generic boxes.

So much of what drives Font is feeling. Their name, a derivative of the archaic term for fountain, is the ideal encapsulation of the free-flowing impulses Wadhill follows as he writes the band’s unrestrained poetic lyrics, letting the subconscious take hold and guide rather than laboring over perfection. That ethos is alive in the lyricism and spirit of “Hey Kekulé,” as the track opens with a declaration: “I’m screaming like a baby / I’m crying like a horse / Eternity is composed of me.” Kekulé is a reference to the German organic chemist Friedrich August Kekulé and, later, Cormac McCarthy’s 2017 essay, “The Kekulé Problem”—the latter of which discusses the concept of the subconscious and its resistance to speak to us, an issue Wadhill has seemingly conquered on Strange Burden. The elaborate arrangement centers Wadill’s wail at the center of its melodic mayhem. Layered keyboard arrangements are masterfully mixed with thundering drums and a Font staple: some killer cowbell.

“Looking at Engines” softens the explosive opening of the album with a mysterious energy before opening up into a pop-influenced banger. Font continue the cerebral messaging even in this airier track by discussing how humans are the only primates who can respond to music and how others prefer silence. The track begins cacophonously until it gives way to a shimmering, bubbly melody as Wadhill asserts our species’ cognitive complexity as a “strange burden.” I’d say that our connection to music is one of humanity’s more sublime afflictions, and with the delicate care given to each track on Strange Burden, I’d wager Font would agree, too.

“Sentence I” and “It” being the band’s first two recorded releases feels divinely correct. The unbridled, infectious dance energy paints the imagery of Wadhill’s jolting dance moves and the relentless pummeling of Owens and Wagner’s percussive symbiosis, while Lawerence commands the 808 sampler and Parnell holds down the groove on bass. Font are a well-oiled, organic machine, with each part fulfilling and exceeding its purpose. “Sentence I” operates as a more straightforward post-punk track—with a twist of cello from Nino Soberon led by a stinging riff and shouty vocals—while “It” brings in an electronica dance beat that persists throughout the album in different volumes.

The penultimate track, “Cattle Prod,” then exists as the antithesis of “Gold Calf,” driving a questioning look at the sanctity of religion and “prodding” the unearthly being to deliver some tangible answers. With the quietest opening of the whole album, the song leans into an ebb and flow of hushed revelations and head-bopping beats. “Oh my god, it’s too bright to look at directly / My whole life just waiting for anything I’m ready,” Wadhill sings, confessing that learning the truth might just be too much for anyone to handle—no matter how visceral the desire.

Finally, “Natalie’s Song” places Roman Parnell’s bass at the center of a groovy jam about the importance of allowing the beauty of nothingness to exist. In a note about the album, Wadhill discusses how his writing process spurs from nonsense, as he births lyrics from what feels kismet in the rhythm—which was heavily employed on this final track. There is a desire to let the meaning form autonomously because the process merely documents the phrases he channeled when listening to the music in the first place. Wadhill states this concept plainly when he sings, “There is nothing behind this.” Yet, for a curious mind, the urge to decode and derive is addictive, and through the absurd eccentricity of Strange Burden, there is endless content to chew on.

In just seven songs, Font manage to let every aspect of their sound shine, from shimmering art pop jams to industrial post-punk rippers. For a band so incredibly precious about distilling their unique live sound into a recorded project, they funnel every ounce of energy into Strange Burden. The result is a craft that’s layered, danceable and deeply intentional and provocative. Though Font’s live magic is complex to replicate on recording, the five-piece bring glorious chaos to their debut album—a flair achieved by their inherent, non-conformist brilliance and the brazen gusto that drives their experimental, unflinching prowess.

Olivia Abercrombie is Paste‘s Associate Music Editor, reporting from Austin, Texas. To hear her chat more about her favorite music, gush about old horror films, or rant about Survivor, you can follow her on Twitter @o_abercrombie.

Font Collage Rhythm and Absurdity Into the Dynamic, Dominant Strange Burden

The Austin five-piece’s debut LP harbors a sophisticated flair achieved by their inherent, non-conformist brilliance and the brazen gusto that drives their experimental, unflinching prowess.