Porches delivers more intimate confessionals with Shirt

With Shirt, his latest release under the Porches moniker, Maine continues to explore the complexities of modern life through a soundscape that is as enigmatic as it is inviting. The album sees Maine honing his songwriting style with a clarity that often feels elusive in his previous works. Shirt is a sonic journey that, while familiar, finds new emotional depths in Maine's repertoire, yet it may leave some long-time fans yearning for the rawness of earlier releases.

Shirt certainly stands as an evolution from more recent albums. The chamber synth theatrics and textures of 2018’s Ricky’s Music and the heart on the sleeve, sensory overload that was 2021’s All Day Gentle Hold! were both defined by their musical tones. While the shimmering synths and pulsating beats remain, there's a renewed focus on lyrical intimacy that feels both confessional and guarded. Maine's lyrics have always been the key to unlocking his psyche and this album is no exception. Yet, this time, there's an even more acutely added layer of self-awareness - an understanding that the act of revealing can be as much about protecting as it is about exposing. “Music” is a desperate example of the shared pleasure and pain he gets from songwriting.

Tracks like "Joker" and "Sally" showcase Maine’s ability to craft melodies that are deceptively simple but linger in the mind long after the song has ended, the latter even conjuring echoes of Nirvana’s Sliver in it’s early bassline bars and scratchy vocal lines. “Sally’s in the yard / Sally’s in the shed” - it scans almost the same even if it’s far less bouncy and doesn’t launch into an almighty cacophony mid-way though. Maines catches hold of well-worn Americana tropes and at times the sentimental feel can seem too cloying, his sense of yearning may be quintessentially Porches but it’s a trick now almost overplayed as his lyrics navigate the delicate balance between mundane observations and existential musings.

His songs are simultaneously fast and slow, averaging maybe a couple of minutes each but played at a considered pace, if not quite glacial. He juggles rockier material with cowered ballads. Couplets are blurted, formed as ideas and noises uttered before dissipating off into the ether. Swallowed like a cold swig of beer as the summer night draws in and a chill sets about eating the day's warmth.

The intimate sharing on “Precious” and “Itch” both built around their respective beats are undeniably engaging and intriguing as is the earnestly felt “Crying At the End” but elsewhere the songs can feel like a retread of past glories rather than a bold step forward. There are moments where the album's introspection becomes too insular, risking alienation rather than connection with the listener.

In comparison to Porches’ earlier work, Shirt feels like a refinement rather than a reinvention. It’s an album that will satisfy fans of Maine’s introspection, evocative storytelling and atmospheric production, but it may not reach the same heights as his most celebrated releases. Still, for those willing to dive into its depths, Shirt offers a homespun experience that further cements Aaron Maine’s place as one of the more singular voices in contemporary indie music.