Air Waves is the musical handle of singer-songwriter and guitarist Nicole Schneit, with The Dance their latest effort and first for Fire Records after a pair for Western Vinyl and prior output stretching back to the mid-’00s. Experienced Schneit is, and it shows in their songs, which are catchy and smart and very much of the moment in the best way possible. They also welcome a handful of guests, including Cass Mccombs, Frankie Cosmos, and Lispector, contributions that strengthen the contents rather than just calling attention to themselves. The record is out on vinyl, compact disc, and digital September 9.
The Dance offers a few immediate grabbers, some growers, and with the unperturbed mid-tempo pop-rock glide of “The Roof,” a welcoming doorway in, as Schneit’s singing deepens the atmosphere, their delivery laid back but far from listless. With the arrival of backing vocal harmonies in the song’s back end, alongside a super slow fade out, the tune gathers an unexpected power, contemporarily lush but with a classic pop sensibility lingering underneath.
The title track is in no hurry either, blending guitars with sheen that’s decidedly synth-pop-esque, but without being overbearing about it. There are backing vocals here, too, but they inject a subtle (and brief) neo-’50s touch. On the previous Air Waves album Warrior, released back in 2018, I was reminded a bit of Aimee Mann in her ‘Til Tuesday beginnings, and this (admittedly mild) similarity persists here.
That’s just fine. So is “Star Earring,” which ups the pace a little bit while retaining a synth-poppy execution, an aura that just might trigger a quick smile from Stephin Merritt, but with the guitar still in the equation. This blend of Schneit’s strings, minimal programmed rhythms, and additional infusions of tech, frequently hinting at new wave (as said, ‘Til Tuesday), but without getting retro about it, works well for Air Waves, particularly in “Alien.”
On the subject of immediate grabbers, that’s “Black Metal Demon,” which foregrounds the right-on-the-money simplicity of Schneit’s guitar as it offers the warmth and up-close intimacy of a demo, though enhancements do arrive, e.g. bass-y bottom-end and a distant piledriver rhythm, some piano tinkling and even a little saxophone. But it’s the directness of Schneit’s singing, pretty but lacking in preciousness, that ties it all together.
Across The Dance, Schneit’s words hold consistent appeal, possessing depth while complementing Air Waves’ pop approach. Some of their sharpest stanzas are found in “The Treehouse,” and fittingly so, as it’s the record’s hardest driving cut. The layered keyboards in the track are also a nice touch, tilting the sound toward pop-rock classique (notably, the choice of Air Waves as a moniker was inspired, way back when, by a Guided by Voices song).
Contrasting sharply is the distinctly dance-clubby “Wait,” a sound that works due to a solid song at its core (album consistency, again). I also like the saxophone, which avoids faltering into clichéd smolder, and I dig the hint of dub in the bassline as it opens up. Plus, Schneit’s repetition of the phrase “demon lover” couldn’t help but bring a certain 2002 film by Olivier Assayas to mind, a definite plus.
“The Light” is the LP’s other immediate grabber, spare at the start but increasingly layered as the melody get its hooks in. And closer “Peer Peer” is but a short captured acoustic fragment that reinforces the root of Nicole Schneit’s art as Air Waves. Throughout The Dance, the essence of that root never gets lost.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
