Waterparks - ‘Entertainment’ (Review)
The Texan three-piece catapulted into the forefront of the pop-rock scene following the release of their 2016 debut record ‘Double Dare’. The critically acclaimed album saw the band combining ear-catching, pop inspired melodies, with roaring, distorted guitars and use of electronica-esque synthesisers, which on tracks like ‘Take Her To The Moon’; had an almost comedic resemblance to Owl City’s ‘Fireflies’. However, regardless of a few cheesy, if not forgettable tracks, the album had an seemingly inherent liveliness and catchiness to it and even earned the trio the ‘Best Breakthrough’ awards at both Rocksound and Alt-Press awards.
Once again working alongside their producer, manager and Good Charlotte guitarist Benji Madden, the band took to recording the album in secret, attempting to avoid the expectations of others adding pressure towards the fear of becoming victim to the band killing phenomenon known as the ‘Sophomore Slump’. Nonetheless, the band shoot above and beyond expectations on ‘Entertainment’, presenting a clear improvement and development upon ‘Double Dare’ with ‘TANTRUM’ bearing the same explosive lyrical aggression, growling vocal delivery and roaring rhythm guitars as ‘Little Violence’, but with trap inspired production prominent in the pitched down backing vocals during the pre-chorus and bridge, helping the track to feel more unique and cohesive in it’s album’s context. Similarly, ‘Lucky People’ falls into the same strand of acoustic guitar led, pop-ballad that ‘21 Questions’ was placed prior, with a rhythmic change in the last chorus and an accompanying piano part defining it from it’s counterpart.
Juxtaposing this, ‘Crybaby’ shows the band at their most musically experimental; again, implementing commercially modern, trap inspired synthesisers into the track. Featuring ground shaking, bass-driven tonalities and a lead synthesiser which samples a staccato, pitched shift vocal which take the forefront of this track. Lyrically, the track shows Knight at his most emotionally vulnerable, taking a darker tone than any prior release as the singer softly whispers the chorus hook, ‘I don’t wanna be your crybaby’ with a falsetto which is drenched in sadness. The track even makes a subtle reference to a track which was a highlight of their previous release, ‘Gloom Boy’, referring to dark and cold months of Winter as the ‘Gloom Boy Season’.
Other highlights of the album include the two singles ‘Not Warriors’ and ‘Blonde’, which again displays the band building upon their signature pop-rock roots. Not Warriors is introduced by a bouncy, synthesized riff which incorporates the production elements of 1980’s synth pop. The chorus is where this track reaches its peak, with an explosion of distorted guitars, Knight’s roaring vocal performance and an arpeggiating call and response synthesiser, which packs an exhilarating punch of energy into the track. It is however ‘Blonde’ which showcases Knight’s vocal virtuosity with the vocal melody in the first phrase of the chorus dancing between notes on the word ‘you’ with a mellifluous blending of falsetto coming into play; immediately hooking the listener into angst-driven ride that earned its place as the leading single for this album.
Although the majority of this album is filled to the brim with Waterparks at their best, the album’s opening and closing tracks show that it is not an album without flaws. Whilst 7:11 and Sleep Alone both pack the same energetic fun as the tracks mentioned prior, these tracks seem to lack the innovative flare and memorability of their peers, making the tracks quite easily forgettable and skippable. ‘Entertainment’, whilst not flawless, is an exciting progression for the trio. With experimental tracks like ‘We Need To Talk’ showing us an 1975-esque flavour of the Waterparks sound to unadulterated pop-rock tracks like ‘Rare’ with distorted, broken-chorded riffs from guitarist, Geoff Wigington, this album shows the band taking their already versatile stylings to new heights, whilst simultaneously defying the concept of a ‘sophmore slump’ as nothing more than a myth.