Turnover - Peripheral Vision (2015)
Peripheral Vision was included in a ballot by my sister Rebekah! These are her words on the record, followed by mine. She's gone for the deep dive approach.
“You call my name, and it pulls me in” – Hello Euphoria, track 4, Peripheral Vision.
Rebekah: The exact details of how I first discovered Peripheral Vision, the sincerely seminal album of the vaguely-genred Virginian band Turnover, are something of a blur. The haziness of the memory matches the hazy sound of this 40 minute reverie – marked by a liberal use of reverb, which helps leave its sound and themes lingering in your ears. In track 4, Hello Euphoria, the echo of the line “I feel so far away” gives a sense that the minds of the people constructing it were not entirely clear. I was in a similar mind when I first heard it (I think) – late night browsing through the suggested songs presented by the algorithms of the 21st century musical industry, looking for a song to help me sleep whilst in a state of unrest. “Diazepam” came through my headphones, but rather than the intended stupor, it had me up all night as I listened to the album it heralded again and again.
This is the sort of album which is best listened to in its entirety, as a complete work – and definitely warrants insisting to your friends “it really does sound better on vinyl”. It’s not an album to select the highlights for your gym playlist, or to put on shuffle as you walk to work – it’s one where you sit, and you listen, as it was recorded.
It is a record which is strongly evocative for me, specifically of a time in my life marked by ill-advised after parties, and stereotypical early 20s angst and existential crises. A state brought about in part by those ill-advised after parties, and the contemplation that comes with still being awake at 6 in the morning, whilst the sun rises on another night which makes you worry about your friends and the turmoil they shared with you in the smoking area - and what this all meant for how you would all find your place in the world.
The opening notes of the first track, “Cutting My Fingers Off”, pull you into the album’s trancelike state, and the opening lyrics cut straight to the nostalgia and introversion which characterise the rest of the album. Many of the song lyrics are not subtle – there are clear themes of psychological turmoil and mental breakdown, explored in a journey through various forms of self-destruction, and the search for relief… be it intoxication, detoxification, concerned conversation, or pained rumination. I tend to deep reflection, and an album like this strikes right at the ‘emo heart’ that as an adult I know must mainly be kept at bay as we carry on with our pragmatic and outwards-facing adult lives. Occasionally the emo inside us needs indulging, a return to the more self-focused and inwards focus of self-discovery and growing up. I listen to this album when in that mood.
It’s an honest and straightforward record in many aspects, not mincing words with what it wants to explore. “Losing you was like cutting my fingers off”… “I want to smash my face ‘til there’s nothing but ears” – there’s a brutality to the lyricism at times which clashes with the softer guitar sounds and dreamy melodies. The album might be exploring sensitive themes, but it does it in its own visceral way.
The title of the album closer, “Intrapersonal” conveys a core theme of the album – an exploration of the emotions and processes contained within a person, rather than the external interactions with the people and world around you. It’s an introverted album, and so especially speaks to introverted people – it looks inwards. There is an almost triumphant sense to the beginning of this final track, which may be somewhat discordant with the tone of the rest of the album – but perhaps speaks to the painful triumph of navigating your way through the crises of your 20s, and the catastrophes that can come with searching for relief. Peripheral Vision can be seen as a sombre journey, and one which causes you to contemplate inner turmoil you may not be comfortable confronting, but which cannot be ignored. But hey, you made it through – and the opening of this song is your celebratory fanfare. Bonus points for an album name drop too – and there’s no better place than the opening line of the final track to wait for that pay off.
Joe: I enjoyed this a lot. It's a pleasant sounding record, prettily shimmering in your ears. Obviously the lyrics are not as resonant for me as my sister, but then my old blog was called 'Never Listens to the Words' so you can probably tell my general enthusiasm for lyrical meaning.
After the first few songs I was reminded of bands like Deerhunter and Broken Social Scene, which I would recommend for fans of Turnover. Then I thought it's maybe more Idlewild and The Twilight Sad (the latter of whom are on the edges of my own Top 40).
Anyway, this record is welcome evidence that the Indie Rock sound will never die. It still has meaning for people in their early 20s in 2015. I can see why it is an important album.
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