More often than not in The Shore, the lyrics are indeterminable—which is a shame because I’m sure that they would allow for a better understanding of this album. However, this is more than atoned for by Chelsey Walsh’s pleasant, wide-ranging, melancholic vocals. 

The sophomore release from this Montreal band is a musical elegy for companionship, romantic or otherwise. The titular first track, “The Shore,” evokes a profound feeling of advancing, yet incomplete isolation. The listener easily imagines the situation depicted by the album cover: Standing on a beach with only reflections for company, as if clinging to the ethereal memory of significant others while realizing the inherent futility of doing so. 

In terms of instrumentation, Eric Dew’s drumming is particularly praiseworthy. Dew incorporates unorthodox rhythms and time signatures, and often initiates unexpected tempo changes, such as on the song “Sideways.” The guitar, reverb heavy and distant, often relies on arpeggios, which are always agreeable but sometimes repetitive—both in style and in placing within the song. For instance, this technique often serves as a bridge around two or three minutes in. Because of its gain-heavy solo towards the track’s end, the guitar is at its most distinct and best on “The Hills.”

The album’s greatest failure is that its central theme is not approached from enough angles, and consequently, isn’t challenging enough. There’s more to being in love—one hopes—than melancholy, or even than anger. Where is the redemption? As demonstrated on “The Lonely Mile,” the hollow loneliness is too comfortable: “We loved each other but resented it/ We hated love but we expected it.”