Henrietta

Paper Wings

(Animal Style Records)

Paper Wings sonically has biting instrumentals. Everything about the record feels like it is cutting at you. It’s the newest wound that Henrietta has marked in the industry and it is ever so refreshing. The soundscape of the record is an honest outpour of trying to find hope, only to watch it flutter away as you are falling endlessly in every song. And throughout every fall, Henrietta’s vocals are soaring over the mountainous chords, the roving drum patterns — breaking down and letting the wound continue to bleed for approximately 22 minutes. The album comes to terms with itself and cleans up only after the seven songs have made their mark on your eardrums.

The beauty of Henrietta is the way they play a tightly wound four piece instrument that unwinds over and over. Just when you think they have found their peace and are fit to recoil, a new fragment of the touching desperation is found and it continues to unravel. It’s a never ending piece of art that is displayed perfectly in the imagery chosen to be the album cover. But moving past the artwork and honing in on Henrietta’s sound there is almost a tangible discrepancy. While the clouds are dark, thick and impenetrable, Henrietta utilize bright and glittery guitars, intricate drum patterns a vocal delivery that moves those clouds, much like watching the sun drift through and showcase its illustrious presence. Sure, the content is dark and bitter, but the sound Henrietta dress the lyrics up with is dazzling, really emphasizing textures and clever syncopation. It is hard to not get the whole damned record stuck in your head. I find myself singing it to my friends in the middle of a conversation, walking through aisles in the grocery store humming it and belting along in my car, where the record travels with me as it plays out.

“Black & Blue” has a bite in its simplicity, using the chord progression in the verse and bending it in a new direction in the chorus. It explodes more and more with every refrain, held together by the ritzy guitar lead and the progressive drum work — really emphasized in the last repeat. From this captivating and twangy song the band moves into “Arrows” which is the darkest song on the album with its buzzing minor chords and hopeless croons in the verse, backed by impressive — and I mean impressive — builds between the rhythm section and guitars. As the chorus approaches Manny Urdaneta’s voice leaps with his bitter realization that he is falling, and as the band slides back into the second verse John Chapman pounces with a tom build that show the beautiful dynamics of Henrietta. It’s riveting in the right way and powerful enough to make you stop what you are doing and listen.

Album opener(s) “Paper Wings” and “Departures” work as a collective composition roaming together as one. The former builds through its chord progression with Chapman setting the pace with his fills and really utilizing the drums as an instrument. The latter song is an infectious riff lead by Urdaneta’s yelps. As the song comes to the apex the chords become more spaced out, fracturing as small breaks in the music with Urdaneta crying out with such ambitious honesty I picture myself endlessly falling as he is delivering this particular outpour. “Opposite Ways” is yet another song with an absolute darling chorus that gets stuck in your head, being approached with delicate guitar stop and goes from both Urdaneta and Colin Czerwinski.

“Few Friends” closes the album with a stroke of brilliance, taking away the rhythm section and leaving the guitars and vocals. It is a closing chapter to any novel, the closing credits of a sitcom episode and the vulnerable side of Paper Wings that doesn’t kick with punchy guitars or promising drum fills. It just is.

(Sean Gonzalez)

Purchase Paper Wings here.