For years, Joel Cusumano has been the secret weapon of the Bay Area underground. Whether providing the jagged melodicism of Body Double or the sophisticated guitar work for R.E. Seraphin, Cusumano has long been a foundational architect of the region’s best sounds. However, his solo debut, ‘Waxworld,’ reveals that he wasn’t just a supporting player in a scene; he was a songwriter waiting for the right moment to synthesize his own perspective. The result is an album that feels like a hard-won victory; the sound of a musician finding his own voice within a storied tradition.
The backstory of ‘Waxworld’ is heavy, born from a period of recovery following a debilitating struggle with OCD and a subsequent traumatic breakup. Yet, rather than descending into a bleak acoustic confessional, Cusumano has funneled that alienation into a record that is paradoxically vibrant. It is a bracing slab of power pop that refuses to play it straight. By rejecting the boilerplate tropes of the jilted lover, Cusumano has created a lyrical landscape where 18th-century Italian wax sculptures, Gnostic poetry, and biblical allusions sit comfortably alongside references to 80s horror-comedy and the Smashing Pumpkins.
Musically, ‘Waxworld’ is a lesson in stylistic fluidity. It moves effortlessly from the roaring, “Valley Girl” soundtrack energy of “Two Arrows” to the post-punk chill of “Death-Wax Girl.” There are flashes of New Wave sharpness reminiscent of early Blondie on “Another Time, Another Place,” and even spectral, down-tempo moments like “Nineveh” that showcase a range far beyond simple retro-pop. The production is bright and immediate, yet it retains enough edge to feel authentic to its indie-rock roots.
The emotional core of the album is perhaps best captured in single “Mary Katharine.” A rare, unambiguous love song for Cusumano, it shimmers with the influence of Felt and Close Lobsters, providing a sunny, melodic respite. Knowing the tribulation of the split that followed its writing only adds to the record’s profound sense of unvarnished poignancy.
Ultimately, ‘Waxworld’ succeeds because it balances high-concept artistry with undeniable hooks. Cusumano’s vocals, a compelling blend of apathy and earnestness, tell a truth that feels uniquely his own. This isn’t just a collection of songs; it is a cohesive, witty, and deeply felt exploration of a world in flux. In a landscape often crowded with indie-rock revivalists, Joel Cusumano has delivered something rare: an album that honors its influences while standing firm in its inescapable intimacy.
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