On their debut album, Chicago trio Moontype narrates an unfolding, like an epilogue to a coming of age film. Stitching together eccentric indie rock with hues of soft folk, Bodies of Water orbits around the vestiges of youth. Singer and bassist Margaret McCarthy spills out lyrics that often use water as a backdrop for the quintessential moments of our second puberties. In the world molded by Moontype, you can walk down a pier to remember that you have a body. You can take a futile ride on a ferry when friendships begin to splinter.
McCarthy attended Oberlin College with members of Moontype, Ben Cruz and Emerson Hunton; however, they didn’t connect until returning home to Chicago. The chemistry of their fated friendship is weaved into each song on the album. Their individual sounds exist symbiotically, seamlessly bouncing off one another. Opener “Anti-divinity” thrashes you into action as if you were walking into a private conversation between the three. The song’s final lyrics, “You caught me at a bad time,” functions as a wink to listeners.
The album’s playful zeal does not subside. Without trepidation, Moontype packs their songs with spontaneous jazz guitar licks and shifting time signatures. With its wavering pace throughout, “Alpha” epitomizes the album’s asymmetrical approach to songwriting. The song embodies a palate of boldness that only seems to exist in your early twenties. It’s an age that douses you in freedom, enthusiasm and the ghosts of teenage gloom.
Despite the album’s brazenness, McCarthy also has a magnetic vulnerability that finds a home in many songs. Reminiscent of Slothrust’s melodies, Moontype’s star single “Ferry” begins with thick whispers until it swells at the chorus. McCarthy etches out the story of a wounded friendship that hasn’t begun to scab yet. We are left with the narcotizing repetition of the lyric “If you’re not my best friend…” Again, Moontype snags us into a cinematic moment that reflects the twilight of youth. Contemplating the potential loss of a chosen family is best done while alone on a boat looking out into the lake.
McCarthy not only meditates on her interpersonal relationships but also the space she holds for herself. In “When You Say Yes,” she spells out the disconnect she feels from her body. She sings,“My body, my body walks through the door.” Instead of using first person, she introduces a dichotomy between the physical and spiritual self.
In the album’s nearly eight minute closer “My And My Body,” McCarthy nurtures a conversation between her soul and her corporeal form. “Tell me the story of / how you were born to me recently,” she begs her body. McCarthy describes herself and her body as severed but swirling around the same pools of water. They learn from one another and find pockets of time to temporarily connect. Moontype plays on the double meaning of Bodies of Water, as the album contemplates both the vast (oceans, lakes) and the contained (the human body).
Essential Tracks: “3 Weeks,” “When You Say Yes” and “Ferry”
Prerequisites: Miss Grit’s Imposter, Ian Sweet’s Shapeshifter and Porridge Radio’s Every Bad