Runnner’s ‘A Welcome Kind of Weakness’ gives power to cathartic bedroom rock
Noah Weinman writes about healing in the band’s new album.
Photo: Maya Ragazzo
Indie rock band Runnner, led by Los Angeles-based singer Noah Weinman, have released their new album A Welcome Kind of Weakness. The album stemmed from a period in Weinman’s life that was simultaneously a time of reflection and catharsis, making for an expansion of sound and ideas from the band.
The album begins with a 30-second opener, A Welcome. A Welcome takes its name from the album’s title in a slightly unexpected way (this theme of expecting the unexpected quickly becomes the standard with this album). The track consists solely of brief audio clips, muffled and echoed into shadows of sound. Both confusing and endearing, the introduction acts as a summation of the album before it even begins.
A count-in leads listeners into the first full-length track of the album, Achilles And. It’s in this track that the easy harmony between Noah Weinman’s songwriter-style vocals and the early 2000s rock sound of the tracks clicks into place for the first time. By joining his inner voice with a very outward-facing sound, Weinman created a post-breakup-windows-down song for the ages.
Achilles And opens with a sort of preface to the album’s lyrical approach: “If I wrote it down / Would it make sense?”, giving the whole album the feeling of being a long and emotional journal entry. This would make sense considering the song gets its name from the story that caused it; Weinman’s time being bedridden from a torn achilles while simultaneously going through a long and difficult breakup. In a tragic way, this song is a tribute to that time in the singer’s life; a lethargic slowing down for everyone who listens.
Spackle, the track that follows, gives an element of stillness to the constantly-moving sound of the first part of the album. The steady beat that sets itself equal to the vocals in this track allows for a stable and comforting presence while the lyrics try to find comfort in being alone with one’s thoughts.
The album’s fourth track, Chamomile, opens up the overall sound of the album by providing an acoustic introduction, followed by a much lighter and more open composition. The song is also a break in the heavier subject matter, allowing a brief moment of focusing on things that help heal rather than dwelling on the negative.
Claritin leads listeners smoothly out of the breathing space of the last track and back into the album’s signature sound with its opening sequence: Weinman’s solo voice only against the background of its own echo. The line “‘Til the sun came out / And dragged me out” acts as a transition back into the brutally emotional and chaotic sound, along with its themes of “losing focus”, a focus that was briefly gained in the previous track.
PVD takes a much older rock approach compared to the album’s previous tracks. With its shorter run-time and darker and more prominent electric guitar, it takes the shape of a simpler and more classic take on the sounds and themes of the rest of the album. This sound, however, is updated and expanded with the cacophonous musical interlude, which cuts loose every semblance of musical sanity in the best way.
Track seven, Coinstar, brings the charming and slightly messy DIY sound of Runnner’s earlier music into the studio album. Here, the band returns to a sound that could be heard at a basement show or in your earbuds in the early 2000s, but does it with a sense of growth from their previous music and a rooting in healing and moving on.
Get Real Sleep, in addition to being great advice, is a welcome surprise musically. Beginning the final act of the album, the drums that open this track allow it a much quicker pace than what’s been heard previously and, therefore, a very fresh change of pace. The band returns to themes of taking care of themselves when the world seems to be pushing against them. With lines like “Focus on your breathing” and “If you get discouraged / Just know it takes time / Because it’s so uncertain / But it’s probably fine”, the band changes the narrative of the album from catharsis and suffering to hope for the future.
This positive energy continues with Split, where the vocal harmony and nature-centric language give a sense of calm reflection to the track’s loud and fast-moving first impression. This track contrasts to its successor, Sublet, which takes on a much slower and softer sound, hinging on the opening piano sequence. Sublet, by repeating “never in the same place”, caps off the band’s conversations about being a young artist: always moving around between physical locations and extremes of emotion and life experience.
The album concludes with Untitled October Song, which gives the impression of a voice memo recorded to preserve a specific moment in time: “Thursday morning / Walked the bike path / Like it’s nothing”. The confessional style of heartbreak lyricism finds a peaceful home here, perfectly cradling Weinman’s voice to leave the album with an homage to his roots.
A Welcome Kind of Weakness is out now via Run For Cover.