A gripping self-produced debut album from Ontario-based band No Beauty, No Beauty Will Remain journeys through introspective musings on existence and profound personal identity. From the lush acoustic reflections of “so do i” to the dynamic introspection of “Hourglass” and the generational exploration in “Alexandria Ottoline Endellion,” the album blends poignant lyricism with a musical landscape spanning from melodic intimacy to rock-infused vigor. Themes of disillusionment, vulnerability, and the cyclical nature of life resonate throughout.
A compelling opener, “so do i” contemplates a 9-to-5 mundanity amidst lush vocals and acoustic strums. “Then I go back home,” they let out, following depictions of a familiar work-then-home protocol. “All that’s left to do is kill myself.” Twangy guitars and brass-laden resonance conclude with satiating impact, traversing into the more rock-ready vigor of “JUNE.” Helena Alexandria’s riveting vocals combine there with escalating structural fervency, culminating in excitable guitar distortion within the infectious “when i get to show you some, june,” refrain.
Explorations of personal identity and the passing of time emanate on “Hourglass,” whose dynamic range between quaintly melodic and rising ardency pairs with blissful vocals for a sound reminiscent of Japanese Breakfast and Mitski. Lines such as “I’ll learn to love the aftermath,” artfully convey a willingness to embrace life’s challenges and find strength in vulnerability. Further depictions of challenges — and specifically on temptation, guilt, and vulnerability — compel on “pharmacy,” immersing between swells of brisk acoustics and sturdy electric guitars.
The album’s second half proves equally consuming, kickstarted by “Alexandria Ottoline Endellion.” Personal identity is again pursued, this time with a generational emphasis. “Mother to grandmother, so many thousands of days,” Alexandria’s vocals exude, continuing with a disillusionment of society and how “the jury is paid off.” A lusher guitar crawl enamors on “taking off my clothes,” whose lyrics emphasize a difficulty to reconcile personal aspirations and desires with reality. “Waiting for this greed to relieve me,” the vocals anticipate, commiserating on missed opportunities alongside the self-criticisms — “before I knew it, you had come and gone.”
A reflective passion shows on “You Died,” whose references to various months seem indicative of varying emotional states — from a hopeful “first snow,” to a striving to “reconnect in fall.” The cyclical nature of relationships, and personal aspirations, are enjoyably delivered within an eclectic range of tones — both ruminating quaintness and distortion-friendly envelopment. “Black Dog Shadow” concludes the album with a ghostly folk intrigue, with its final line — “take me home,” — yearning for a solace and personal peace, effectively conveyed throughout the album in effective form.
