The Evening Drag by Torrez (Review)

Each song on here is given a chance to breathe, with smoky, rustic atmospheres filtering throughout each song.
The Evening Drag, Torrez

Torrez claim to be from New Hampshire, but I ain’t buying that for a second. There’s no way a band from New England could drum up the sort of lonesome, “broken heart on a desert highway” mood that permeates every song on this album. If Torrez really are from New Hampshire as they claim, then the band’s spirit resides in some run-down town on the edge of the Mojave Desert, where the blistering heat gives way to long evenings where the only comforting light is at the end of your cigarette.

Although Torrez employs an impressive array of instrumentation — in addition to guitars, bass, and drums, you’ll find optigans, organs, mellotrons and strings sprinkled through the album — not once does Torrez smother their songs in sounds and effects. Rather, each song on here is given a chance to breathe, with smoky, rustic atmospheres filtering throughout each song. However, underneath the atmospheres, the band takes strands of alt-country, slowcore, and post-rock to create lush, dimly lit vistas.

The album’s opener takes everything Mazzy Star did on So Tonight That I Might See and ups the ante, with random percussive and organ elements sprinkled throughout. The mood, as with so much of the album, seems to imply some place out in the desert at twilight, contemplating your heartbreak as the starts begin to appear after the retreating sun. Everytime I listen to “Forage Your Way,” the ghostly bridge that comes in partway through the song never ceases to amaze me.

As lovely as Torrez’ music is to my ears, it’s the vocals of Kim Torres that really pull everything together. Again, the Mazzy Star comparison is inevitable, with Torres striking the same vocal pose as Hope Sandoval. But unlike Sandoval, Torres actually sounds like she isn’t bored with her own music. Rather, her voice holds and seduces you, drawing you in with a curl of the finger and a sideways glance.

No matter how many times I hear “Final Fantasy,” it never ceases to hit me hard. The music strikes a perfect note of resignation with a sparse guitar melody trying to break free of John and Chris Greiner’s rhythm section. Torres’ weary vocals and sparse lyrics (“They say that you’re coming home/And I’ve barely grown”) multiply this tension. It’s readily apparent that Torres’ possesses Mimi Parker’s gift for making even the most languorous, lethargic singing a thing of dreamy beauty.

After an album’s worth of heartache, “All On Fire” delivers a slightly more upbeat note, as Torres coos “Though there may be darkness in your heart/It’s just a spark that starts the flame that burns all night.” Best to listen to this one on headphones. Torres sounds like she’s mere inches away from your ear, an effect that produces more than its fair share of goosebumps.

Regardless of how cheesy this sounds, The Evening Drag reminds me of why I enjoy doing this critic thing in the first place. Rarely do I receive an album that impresses me this much, that excites me to think I get to review and share it with others, much less listen to it. The first time I put this in the CD player, I somehow managed to listen to it 5 times in a row. It never occurred to me to do anything other than hit the “Play” button again. I even shared it with my co-workers, who had nothing but positive things to say.

Torrez have a real, finely crafted gem of an album here, dripping with heartache and melancholy without ever becoming overbearing or monotonous. And if I’m not careful, I’ll find myself listening to it 5 more times before I take the darn thing out.

Enjoy reading Opus? Want to support my writing? Become a subscriber for just $5/month or $50/year.
Subscribe Today
Return to the Opus homepage