Hovvdy
Hovvdy

If I was in Hovvdy, I would be very tired of the word “nostalgia” by now. It’s been mentioned in countless write-ups and reviews (this one now included), singling out the band’s biggest strength — down-to-earth earnestness and relatability — and occasionally spinning it as something manufactured. Any detractors of the band are unlikely to change their minds about Hovvdy’s new self-titled double album, although fans will no doubt be pleased that the band continues to retain their carefree and approachable image, likely because it serves as such a complement to their songwriting. Even more than 2021’s True Love, Hovvdy fulfills the goal of most self-titled records, as well as the goal of many records this far into a band’s career; it is kaleidoscopic while remaining cohesive, a defining work by an artist in their prime that captures nearly every sound the band has explored over their first decade of existence.

In my recent interview with the band (likely to be published next week), songwriter Charlie Martin mentioned revisiting the sound of their sophomore slowcore effort, Cranberry, and it’s easy to hear how that has informed Hovvdy’s overall style and tempo. But even between upbeat singles boasting delicate piano interludes and familiar tones (“Bubba,” “Jean,” “Forever”), a track like “Shell” harkens even further back to the band’s debut, Taster. And in between throwbacks to their past iterations? Hovvdy fills this largely subdued collection with quiet, introspective moments inspired by songwriters like Bruce Springsteen, Randy Newman, and Jeff Tweedy.

Two of these moments come in the form of highlights “Heartstring” and “Til I Let You Know,” both of which make you feel like you are in the room with songwriter Will Taylor; in the former, he questions his past decisions, before landing on a slightly humorous (albeit frustrated) refrain of “That’s why I run my mouth around like that/’Cause I know what you know.” Much of the album’s raw production, largely focused on live takes and helmed by the band along with frequent collaborators Andrew Sarlo (Big Thief, Bon Iver) and bassist and multi-instrumentalist Bennett Littlejohn, hints at a newfound darkness; songs seem to reference death and isolation while always retaining a glimmer of hope. Still, Hovvdy mitigates the effects of what could be overwhelming sparseness with songs like “Meant” and “Make Ya Proud,” the latter’s boisterous drums and deep piano chords helping the band to sound as full as ever.

Miraculously, Hovvdy manages to avoid the pitfalls of so many double albums before it, hardly featuring anything resembling a dud and simply providing fans with more of what they love about the band’s songwriting. Many of the album’s tracks sit right around, if not under, three minutes, encouraging listeners to revisit their favorite moments as opposed to giving them too much to chew on throughout a 50-plus minute runtime. Of course, it helps that the album is paced with precision, offering two more energetic highs in the album’s second half. Both “Every Exchange” and “Bad News” find the band operating in their most interesting and comfortable space, operating a playful combination of organic instrumentations, electronic drums, and processed vocals.

After a double album bursting at the seams with some of the band’s most personal material, Hovvdy still manages to close their self-titled album with one of their best songs to date; the twinkling, slide-assisted “A Little” feels like the closest thing to a standard that the band has ever written. Still, it’s lyrical moments in songs like “Jean” (“I’m at your exit, five blocks to your house/You got a cousin says he can help me out”) and “Angel” (“Let’s take the long way, we could use the extra mile/I could do a little dance, do anything to make you smile”) that truly boil down the essence of Hovvdy, offering unique turns of phrase that can simultaneously feel completely silly and shockingly honest in their simple presentation. At the end of the day, Hovvdy are talented and ambitious enough to throw everything but the kitchen sink into their songwriting process and still arrive with a statement piece that feels like their least immediate in years, but their most rewarding album to date.