Maritime Human Hearts

After proving they could perform outside of their own skin, Maritime kept on searching for their own individuality as far away from their Promise Ring association. For a career that already spans a total of eight years, the Milwaukee quartet still give the impression of being apprentices in search of approval. Not that there isn’t anything wrong with reintroducing yourself constantly – it’s unfortunate that a band that constantly plays tightly woven melodies with incontestable authority hasn’t found a wider audience aside from their indie-emo niche. A pine for dulcifying their routine became a way of stamping the possibility of some kind of longevity.

Maritime’s We, the Vehicles proved to have more gravitas that any of Death Cab for Cutie’s latter works. While not as emotionally piercing, it made up with a pitch-perfect power punch of hooky arrangements that glistened like a Sunday afternoon. Its light, spacious melodies were readily distinguishable in a genre known for it’s world-weary romanticism. And yet, it was in its right place, appropriately nestled in a musical ethos that favors a bland melody to fill the precise long-winded adjective. Maritime were truly divulging that rare cross hybrid between indie rock appraisal and jittery emo-pop.

Judging by the album title, Human Hearts could mistake Maritime for regressing to a phase of post-adolescent seethe. Instead, it bolsters them as truly confident musicians, completely aware of what they used to be and what they’ve become. A run through these unyielding songs proclaims they double-checked the signature below an Act titled: No Hook Left Behind. It’s Casual opens and justifies their four years away with a sudden outbreak of distorted, swirling guitars, with lead songwriter Davey von Bohler exposing a more sexified, albeit more processed boldness a la Jake Snider. While Paraphernalia establishes that their mission is still very much aligned to tastefully standard pop, Black Bones curves with a multidimensional transfer of acoustic-driven and escalating guitar assaults, all under their well-known buried percussion and wriggling synth effects.

To further step away from their Cap'n Jazz advocates, Peopling of London takes a dainty guitar line, all shimmered with winding riffs and even a climatic shredding without the slightest remorse. If Maritime are aiming for intricate arrangements under a post-emo guise, then so be it – Air Arizona rings a crisply strum over a meandering synth line that’s downright catchy in the best possible sense. They’ve also learned a thing or two from soft-layered charmers Nada Surf in Out Numbering, in which they fling a prickly acoustic strum to override an upbeat sonic guzzle. 

Human Hearts fuddles at points, particularly when Maritime proposes heading into more foreboding textures. Faint of Hearts tries to open it’s scope with a hard-hitting opening, yet fails its premise when that same chord structure sticks all the way to its flat conclusion. They work best when under the restraints of a three-minute pop song, resolute to achieving guitar resonance in a compact framework. With a more lacquered production and even rough-edged vigor (at least in pop terms), Maritime have never sounded so apparent. All this trial and error always leads them to new discoveries, a few shrouded influences, and the pulling down of proven formulas. Fortunately, all this forwards and backwards never sidetracks them from writing top-notch pop songs.