The days and nights of youth always seemed endless when you were living it. Before you know it, though, time catches up and you're left wondering where everything you're familiar with went. In their first album after six years, Bunny, Beach Fossils pieced together remnants of aimless days and the realities of the present, brimming with sentimentality.
As much as the band has matured, they seem to find comfort in the sound that they found their footing in. Amidst the nostalgic sonic texture lies observations about adulthood just settling in. The recurring motif of loss appears early on, with album opener "Sleeping on My Own" retelling the story of the difficult acceptance of loneliness after a relationship has faded.
The sedative-infused sound feels ever truer in "Anything is Anything", where Beach Fossils frontman and founder Dustin Payseur sings "Coffee and Ativan/My thrills are getting cheap/I spend all day in bed/I dream but I can't sleep" just a few tracks after singing "Staying out all night/We're all taking drugs/Acting stupid, having fun/Till the sun is coming up" in "Run to the Moon". Yet, Payseur gets more introspective as time went on, grounding himself into fatherhood and his daughter.
Still, the past is always seen through rose-tinted glasses, as demonstrated by "Don't Fade Away". "This city hasn't felt the same/Since you moved away, man, we had some days/Wonder if you found your way", opened Payseur, reminiscing facets of now-distant friendship. A few lines later, he followed up with "Last night I said we'd both be sober/Riding my bike in the morning, I'm still hungover/Is this a meaningful moment?" It might not feel so at that time, yet the fact that Payseur remembers it enough to put into lyrics is telling.
Much of Bunny feels like wrestling between escapism and its consequences. Meandering nights in different cities, packed in cars or different party venues—of course it wouldn't go on forever. As Payseur wondered himself on "Dare Me", "Are we gonna be running till the end of our lives?" What he was running from, we could posit some answers; adulthood, responsibilities, or personal demons. Perhaps, the act of running itself is an escapist musing. As pleasant as wasting time is, still Payseur knew that he needed more from life.
Clouded in hazy reverb, Bunny is an equally weightless and substantial listen. The intricately layered sounds lend the album a fragile, dreamlike feel while the grounded lyrics speak to the elusive experience of being young that a lot of us are still trying to grasp, even years later. When does youth end and adulthood start to creep in? The answer is as blurry as Bunny.
(alm/tim)