Quivers hit their stride with Oyster Cuts, their third album, capturing the essence of what they describe as “1980s Australia meets 1990s America.” This Naarm/Melbourne band taps into a rich tradition of indie pop from both ends of the globe, weaving it into a heartfelt record that feels like sunlight breaking through misty rain.
Speaking of rain, if you’re new to Quivers, on first listen you might assume they hail from Glasgow. With members Sam Nicholson (guitars), Bella Quinlan (bass), Michael Panton (guitars), and Holly Thomas (drums), the band shares a knack for crafting melodies that are as existential as they are catchy, reminiscent as much of Big Star as The Delgados. Quivers adds an Australian twist, occasionally venturing into the unexpected. The album opener ‘Never Be Lonely’ exemplifies this, rather like what Molly Nilsson’s take on The Cars might sound like: a bold blend of breezy 80s synth-pop confidence with the lyrical cynicism of Courtney Barnett: “All I ever wanted was a true friend / All I wanted was a friend with benefits / All I wanted was transcendence.”
As Oyster Cuts progresses, it navigates a maze of their favoured 80s and 90s styles, frequently shifting lead vocals. This approach keeps the album engaging, but it takes several goes to get past the immediate chorus hooks, into the substance of the songs themselves. Unlike those indie pop bands that cloak their joy in melancholy or sarcasm, Quivers flip the equation. The stirring chorus of ‘Pink Smoke,’ for instance, overshadows its subtler lyrical turns, which explore a slowly evolving love affair. Nicholson’s evocative vision for the music video captures this story, highlighting his parents’ enduring connection against the backdrop of Tasmania’s winter.
The lead single, ‘Apparition,’ combines Teenage Fanclub jangle with a reflective take on moving forward while carrying past grief. Nicholson’s lines—“Don’t patent your sorrow / If your heart’s not open yet, just try again tomorrow”—cock a wry smile at the role of friendship in the healing process and keeping us grounded. ‘Grief Has Feathers’ offers a gentle mid-album pause, poignantly reflecting on the grieving process: “If grief has feathers, it must be a bird / And it will move away, so I heard, to somewhere warmer.” This sets up the title track, ‘Oyster Cuts,’ with its nostalgic, drive-time radio feel, and Quinlan’s vocals again reflecting on overcoming heartache.
Other notable tracks include ‘More Lost’ and ‘Fake Flowers,’ which examine the complexities of relationships, picking away at the loose threads with dark humor. Elsewhere, Quivers explore feelings of love that appear more wholesome and enduring on the 90s indie movie theme song ‘Screensaver.’ The album closes with ‘Reckless,’ which unravels gradually over six minutes, its shuffling sway later breaking into catharsis, awash with layers of distorted jangle guitars and looped feedback.
Ultimately, Quivers triumph by making the familiar feel new and refreshing. While it might not be a radical shift, Oyster Cuts is crafted with a quiet care and flair that keeps you hooked right to the end.
