Immediately, the instrumentation on the title-cut “Twin Plagues” is creative to a throwback of these rummaging guitar lines covered in mud. Every piece of the production is toned two octaves lower than what the human ear can feel comfortable around, making Wednesday appear in the first glace as this conqueror.
Digging further into the lyrical content, Wednesday is truly anxious and riddled to be an enigma between coinciding powers. On one hand, the narration illustrates, “My fear never leaves me, and I convince myself of these things,” referring back to the initial lines. That confidence does not so much fade away as it does to entirely explode through the performance by Wednesday.
A lineup that consists of Karly Hartzman on the guitars and vocals, Jake Lenderman pushes hand-in-hand with Hartzman on the guitar. Together, Wednesday uses Margo Schultz on the bass and has Alan Miller on percussion creating a fantastic groove section.
The mood changes on “The Burned Down Dairy Queen,” reserving to be more approachable with Hartzman’s vocals being gorgeous over these bright inflections on the strings. This was the track that made Twin Plagues so easy to fall in love with and “The Burned Down Dairy Queen” becomes a standout for how Wednesday can grasp the audience in a loving way without coming too close to comfort.
As they march on in dynamics, Twin Plagues is truly a record of pushing and pulling. The greatest strength is the ability to form a direction that seems coherent and then be able to turn without any hesitation. Transitions from tracks like “How Can You Live If You Can’t Love, How Can You If You Do” to the shorter “Cody’s Only” are immaculately easy on the ears and feels natural.
But as the transition from “Cody’s Only” to “Toothache,” the punch in the speakers is a wake-up call without being too aggressive. Wednesday has these elements of being similar to a band like Mannequin Pussy where the acoustics and formation are similar, but the way both bands can master definition of sound and either strangle the listener or caress them the way a mother would.
This last caress comes in the form of pieces like “Three Sisters” where the more upbeat stylings are a great send-off into this ether. Twin Plagues holds Hartzman as this writer that through the simplicity, is relatable and puts arms on the audience. Forced to look as Wednesday sculpts flowers from the strings, “Three Sisters” is an ambidextrous track.
Highlighting not only the ability of the band but the beauty of what can form when the pressure is placed entirely on the audience to decide tempo. Twin Plagues has something for the harsh punks to the more fragile indie heads but never cuts them directly down the middle.