Indie rock band The Fruit Machines has developed their electronic sound into something more nostalgic, fusing ’80s synth-pop with ’90s grunge. The band is in a different mental space from their debut in 2017. Especially lead vocalist Nick Pope, who during the writing of their debut, was struggling to find work after college and was watching his old band dissolve combined with falling in love at the same time. Originally intended to be released in 2020, obvious circumstances delayed the album. The result is a continuation of the band’s obsessive blend between organic rock and mechanical electronica.

Following repetitive rhythms, each song on the album has a rigid ’80s pop feel usually contrasted by spacey guitar effects, synths and vocals—like on “Windowsill,” which opens with a haunting drum and synth before delving into a deep bassline that sinks the song further into darkness. Finally, honey-sweet guitars cut through the bassline like a probing spotlight. Pope joins the mix, singing about finding rejuvenation in your partner. It’s an excellent pairing of sonics and lyrics that simultaneously capture the mood of both being trapped in the riptide and being thrown a lifeline.

Moments like this dot the album that’s full of textured, well-mixed instrumentations beneath melancholic but hopeful vocals like on “Smoke and Bones” or “Under the Moon.” Pope’s voice reminds me a bit of Morrissey with his cool, almost spoken delivery and tone. But somewhere in the band’s pursuit of contrasting life and machine, they stumbled into some of the common problems of ’80s pop music. 

While some moments are layered, others feel flat, like on the track “Religion” when I first noticed the long-ish runtime of these songs. The track feels a bit hollow, and the chorus wears on to the point of becoming obnoxious. Overall, it seems that the two extra years (five total) were worth the wait. The Fruit Machines have grown a unique aesthetic like a fig tree bursting out of a cassette deck.