The riveting third album from Indo-American artist Tarul, Whether by nature or nurture, small captivates in its range of styles — succeeding across realms of shoegaze, indie pop, post-punk, and bedroom pop. Grief, nostalgia, politics, and personal fractures all surface thematically, from the heavy-hearted “Looms” to the simmering resentment of “Garbage Man” and the political critique within “Silver Spoons.” Intimate storytelling melds with melodic productions throughout, for a wholly memorable success of an album from Tarul.
A gripping success, “Looms” commences the album with a textured rock sound and heartfelt lyrical introspection. Soaring vocals and pulsing guitar distortion invoke a shoegaze-y nostalgia, while the lyrics flow with a sense of lament; Tarul wrote the track following the death of his grandmother, conveying themes of grief and guilt within. “Smell of the dew makes me sentimental,” Tarul’s vocals let out amidst moments of spaciousness and crunching guitar intensity, traversing into a final sequence where wordless vocal soaring and intensified distortion coexist with enthralling immersion.
A peppier rock radiance consumes on the ensuing “Baccus,” where fleeting guitar jangles and bouncy bass bounces envelop throughout — playing like a cross between post-punk moodiness and spirited early ’00s indie-rock nostalgia. Meanwhile, “False Ends” relishes in its introspections on celebrating memories, and pondering if our worst parts define us. The acoustic guitar twangs and electronic flourishes meld with serene vocals for a more pop-ready sound, while the subsequent “In the Dark (Of All the Stolen Faces)” re-injects the shoegaze/alt-rock hybrid apparent also on the opening track.
“In the Dark (All Of The Stolen Faces)” is especially memorable in its structural build-up, rising from airy vocals and sturdy guitar fuzziness into a raucously inviting finale, where ardent guitar work achieves a replay-inducing spell prior to an acoustic-set send-off. The intertwining vocal layers ascending there also compel, contemplating “what I used to know / what I used to be” alongside an artful thematic pursuit of capturing the space between “self-perception and reality.”
“Freckles” is another standout, moving fluidly from an initial synth swell into brisk guitar jangling. “There he goes again,” Tarul sings during a particularly catching sequence, where a punchy lead, soaring backing expressions, and melodic guitar fury culminate in a plea to “let it go.” Its perspectives of a dwindling relationship, and jealousy that can ensue, pairs with a delightfully hooky production — making for an especially catchy track on an album that’s often melodic, across both heavy rock and more shimmering indie-pop stirrers.
The album closes with two powerful tracks, both harnessing a political edge. “Heads or Toes” rides on a punk-rock ardor, attaining a lusher progression at mid-point that develops into contagious multi-layered vocal enthusiasm; its lyrics engage in presenting a satire of U.S. foreign policy and persisting xenophobia. Album finale “Silver Spoons” achieves a more folk-set contemplation, with aesthetical shades of “The Man Who Sold the World.” Its lyrical critiques concern the erosion of civil liberties and post-9/11 patriotism, leading to actions and legislation that craft a surveillance state. Whether by nature or nurture, small is an album full of high-quality, commanding songwriting from Tarul.
