The Greeting Committee: This Is It review – a slice of Autumnal gold

Maybe it’s the album cover’s colour theme, or simply the time of year it was released, but there’s something distinctly autumnal about The Greeting Committee’s This Is It. Following the release of their debut EP, It’s Not All That Bad, the Kansas City indie pop group saw their career begin to flourish, signing with (appropriately named) Harvest records in 2015. Years in the making, the resulting album sees the band looking back on their youth whilst delivering an impressively mature sound. It’s all lead by frontwoman Addie Sartino, who’s portamento-heavy vocals won’t resist comparison to Florence Welch, of course someone who has shown that this style of home-grown pop really can appeal to the masses if you’ve got the talent.

But perhaps obvious Florence + The Machine comparisons are unfair. The Greeting Committee proudly deliver their own sound – one of sunny guitar riffs paired with piercing vocals and introspective lyrics. The band aren’t afraid to put you off guard however; the album opens with a horn section in Is This It?, a rather directionless yet inexplicably popular track. It’s also a straight-forward (perhaps clumsy) way to make clear the album’s narrative. It all begins with uncertainty, but by the time we get to the closer, Sartino is decisive and strong-minded (we’ll get to that closer, Don’t Go, in a little while). It’s a neat and satisfying way to structure the album, but equally up to interpretation, resisting the temptation to spell things out for the listener.

For me, the album properly starts with the second track, Pull It Together. The cheery piano riff and drum entry often give me a reason to smile, so long as you ignore the lyrics which tackle Sartino’s struggle with mental health. It’s an often-used disparity, and a powerful technique that makes a song more and more depressing the longer you listen to it. Ultimately, the mood of the music itself will prevail however, and therefore Pull It Together is a fantastic song to dance to. The following track, Some Kind of Love, operates in a similar vein, but the results are less effective. There’s a major key guitar riff and merrily plonking piano, but this one doesn’t really take off. It’s clear TGC might not have been going for this. There’s not much of a chorus to speak of and the song ends up bubbling at the same pace for what becomes a somewhat dull few minutes. The lyrics are far more heartfelt than the song’s predecessor, but it turns out to be the music that gives the ultimate decider on what makes a song danceable.

You’ve Got Me is an outstanding track. It feels like a true TGC set piece – the horns make a significant impact, and there’s the addition of gospel-style backing singers and even strings to further augment the track. This time the lovely, romantic lyrics really do match the music that accompanies them, as Sartino belts out an optimistic tune over a smooth, chocolatey backing. The band also does well to resist the temptation to smother the track with dollops of strings and horns so as to make it feel sickly and muddy. Their tricks are employed at all the right moments, and stripped back when needed, such as the middle eight. The way TGC lead into the song’s apex may divide opinion. The dramatic stop at the crucial moment feels more like stalling to me, and slightly ruins the impact of what had been a promising build-up. It’s a shame, but this slight blunder shouldn’t take away from the overall brilliance of You’ve Got Me.

If you’re still recovering from the joys of You’ve Got Me, hit pause at this point in the album because TGC is about to hit you with a song that is somehow even better. 17 is This Is It‘s flagship and standout track, and I absolutely adore it. The on-beat snare throughout the verses is enough to get the foot tapping and the heart pumping, before launching into an effortlessly catchy chorus. Sartino continues the theme of adolescence and young love, combined with struggling mental health.  We are also introduced to one of the album’s most memorable few lines: “I know something you don’t / You think you know it all but you won’t.” It’s that smug feeling that lifts the happiness of 17 into ecstasy, and perhaps a direct nod at the listeners too – Sartino likes to keep her lyrics ambiguous and difficult to decode. In 17, TGC deliver another wonderful set of hooks, and a chorus that’s instantly singable – if you just want to try out TGC, take a listen to this. It was the first I’d heard of the band, and I was instantly enthralled.

The Florence Welch similarity I mentioned earlier really hits home in the chorus of More, a true lovestruck belter. Sartino’s darker, more serious side is explored in stunning  fashion. Her vocals are also put to good use too, with long notes and eyebrow-raising vocal flares making a rare appearance. Unfortunately, More marks the start of a ten minute dip in the album, after a strong first half. That is not say Run for Your Money or Gold Star are particularly bad songs, but they don’t stand up to the standard This Is It had previously set. The former sees the band venture briefly into rock territory, but it ends up sounding like a bit of a racket. Gold Star is less eventful but tackles further subject matter about a pressurised upbringing. There’s also a fun syncopated drum groove, but that’s about as good as it gets.

When TGC take another stab at rock in Flint, they get it right. It’s a song of two opposing sides – TGC’s generally benign usual groove and a head-banger, rock chorus. Flint is also well worth a listen as it contains the single best moment of the album. An unassuming middle eight flows gently like a stream, gradually building, but seemingly not amounting to much. In a few breathless seconds the stream becomes an awesome waterfall as Sartino and the rock groove re-enter simultaneously, resulting in a powerful wall of sound. It’s easily This Is It’s most shocking and rewarding moment, and transforms Flint from a mediocre song to a great one.

The follow up, Odds of Forever, is the last of the album’s weaker tracks before a scintillating closing two. Here the band seem to being going for a Valerie vibe, but the chorus unfortunately doesn’t stick and the strings lines sound somewhat awkward. The song is, however, entirely in keeping with the album’s mood and musical style, something which TGC do a great job at. Of course, the elements of rock add some stark variety but by no means make the album feel incoherent.

Birthday Song is simply devastating. It stands out like a jewel, being the only track with stripped down instrumentation – Sartino, an acoustic guitar and the occasional, beautiful string quartet and piano. It’s also the most touching track in the album, with masterfully written lyrics describing the divorce of Sartino’s parents at a young age. Along with the central abstract metaphor “And the room sings”, there’s a reference back to 17 with the line “We know something you don’t” – a satisfying and meaningful easter egg for those who listen to the entire album. Birthday Song is a rare example of using music to let the listener really empathise with the performer. Sartino’s pain feels like ours, and the story feels devastatingly inevitable. The last few lines will leave you in awe and likely in tears – Birthday Song is a potent work of art.

A fitting end, Don’t Go attempts to be optimistic in the wake of Birthday Song and a catchy, pacy chorus soon lifts the mood. The chorus’s titular lyrics are of course easy to sing along to as by the time you reach This Is It’s closer you really won’t want TGC to go from your headphones. In that way, there’s something reassuring about the album’s final middle eight: “Don’t you worry, I’m right here / It’s not the end, it’s never been”. Whilst I doubt Sartino intended to be speaking directly to her audience, after hearing This Is It you’ll be pleased to know that The Greeting Committee’s musical careers are only just beginning. It feels like there’s a lot more great music to come from the Kansas four-piece so please, Addie, don’t go.