DARKER LIGHTER UNVEILS TRIUMPHANT SELF-TITLED DEBUT LP
A veil of nonchalant artists and cookie-cutter personas shrouds today’s musical landscape. That’s not to say I’m a heavy skeptic. Instead, it’s a simple observation that speaks more to the marketing side of things than what people are creating. Underneath the surface, numerous artists, such as Darker Lighter, are making things for themselves, removed from societal expectations and metric pressures. His self-titled LP harkens back to days when Death Cab For Cutie, Train, and Motion City Soundtrack shared the charts. Their combination of indie, rock, and occasionally emo themes appealed to diverse audiences that have withstood the test of time, surpassing the band’s tenure by far post-breakup. These records defined the 2010s, and it wouldn’t surprise me if Darker Lighter eventually carried the same weight. It has a similar authenticity, raw grit, and knack for hitting heartstrings that its contemporaries did before it.
Sonically, the record follows an indie rock format that’s vastly underutilized today. Typically, artists in the same subgenre focus on stripped-down acoustic moments. There are a few acoustic guitar features in Darker Lighter, but the grooving drum beats accentuate them. This is such a compliment—the record reminds me of Motion City Soundtrack’s Go and Panic Stations. As a diehard fan of the group, I don’t take this comparison lightly. I feel like both records are vastly underrated, but now I associate them with a specific period of my life; they sound like my first few weeks away at a sleepaway camp in middle school. My camp counselors loved Go and would play it in the cabins and common areas. The emotional resonance within Darker Lighter will similarly fall upon the ears of a deserving tween, who will thereby base their personality on it for the rest of their lives. I am projecting a bit, but the sentiment remains true: Salar Rajabnik offers the same uncanny ability to scan the crevices of the audience’s brains and hearts.
Aside from stunning, free-flowing compositions, Rajabnik has another strength—commentary. I love layered records with enough depth to quench the thirst of this English major-turned-journalist. A few of these songs initially appeared to focus on romantic relationships. I was incorrect, as I listened again and found that they were indeed political commentary. Many of us are feeling the weight of it right now. I find myself highlighting political commentary in nearly every review I write. I don’t blame anyone for following this common thread; what are we supposed to say when no one’s listening? “Like Birds Fly Away” is a stunning example. Not only is it backed by an articulately composed melody and instrumental track, but it holds a stronger, deeper meaning once you get into it. Rajabnik’s commentary begins quietly, crescendoing not necessarily in physical volume, but in metaphorical volume.
It made perfect artistic sense to include “Like Birds Fly Away” towards the end of the record, especially given the grand journey he sent listeners on for the prior hour-ish. The swelling keys meeting electric guitars in “Did You See Me Walking” feel full-circle by the time the LP comes to an end. Both songs are about something different from what you might expect, and you can’t have one without the other; such is the case for the entire body of work. This time, though, it’s less politically charged, instead focusing on challenging themes of identity. Perhaps Rajabnik was grappling with an existential and/or identity crisis due to the political turmoil, not independently of it. All I can say to that is, once again…me too, man.
“Is it in my head or is it real?” among other questions asked in this song reflect his secret superpower. He is an expert at creating lyrics that read like they should be about romance. Is this love requited, or am I losing it? So many people can resonate with this statement. As a result, they are forced to pay closer attention when reality hits them in the face. They are not vying for attention from a stranger, but rather, themselves. These lyrical devices are prevalent throughout the LP, and they are tremendously impressive. Though hypocritical, I often say that you don’t need extensive vocabulary in your writing for it to be important, structural, or even “good” (whatever that means). Each of Rajabnik’s questions, though stated, becomes profound when examined closely.
Remarkably, this is Darker Lighter’s debut effort. Already, Rajabnik articulates a clear creative vision in his self-titled LP. He does so while asking thought-provoking questions, questioning his identity, and getting vulnerable while explaining how difficult it is to exist peacefully at this time. Though things might be hard for us all, music exists—and that’s pretty dang cool.