By Esme Campbell
“Making an album always seemed like the impossible dream for us as 12-year-olds,” recalled indie-rock group The Rions. But it “went hand in hand with being a musician.”
The band have now ticked off that childhood aspiration, with the launch of their debut record, Everything Every Single Day.
Now, effusive over the surrealism of finally being able to talk about it, The Rions feel they’ve reached “the first real step” in their nine-year journey.
The Aussie four-piece have a charming authenticity to them, and not just because they have as many mullets as band members. Their lyricism doesn’t play heavily with irony or enigma; there is little beating around the bush where expression is concerned. Hearts proudly on their sleeves, The Rions say exactly what they feel. You get the unflappable sense these guys have great therapists.
So, unsurprisingly, Everything Every Single Day delivers exactly what it says on the tin. It’s a sonic repertoire dissecting life’s habitualities, exploring the aspects that are simultaneously mundane and monumental: family, relationships, moving on, growing up. The album reflects on the quotidian; the inevitable.
“It’s the most open wound we’ve allowed the world to see thus far, and an insight into our lives as humans,” The Rions explained. “All our triumphs, our regrets, our shortcomings, our philosophies, our hopes and our dreams on a 13-track silver platter.”
Respective to its title, the album crams a lot of themes into it. Love and heartbreak rear its head throughout, starting with Maybe I’m Just a Freak, which kicks off the album.
It’s an understated opener, where a stripped-back tune lets the lyrics breathe and highlights Noah Blockley’s melting vocals. There’s a rawness to the vulnerability that feels like picking at an open wound, and old scars are seemingly carried into new relationships with the album’s successive love songs.
The Beatles-inspired The Art My Mother Likes and the self-effacingly named Scumbag are nearly vehement love proclamations, if not for being bulwarked by an undescribed catch. This love is impeded by hesitation, where romantic confessions are punctuated by the occasional ‘but’: “Though one day I’ll go / Or maybe I won’t / And I’ll just keep you on your toes”.
Reservations over commitment are more directly confronted in Adelaide. Reflecting the trenches that is the current Gen Z dating scene (it would almost be comical if it weren’t so pitiful), the track points a barb at ‘situationship’ culture and confronts avoidance face-on.
Where The Rions really shine, however, is in the more potent, full-bodied sounds. The stronger instrumentals and cinematic influences in tracks like Shut You Out and Welcome to the Conversation cultivate a dramatic flair that embraces their indie-rock style – especially against the more sombre themes.
It’s the catchy guitar hooks in Cry – an ode to challenging toxic masculinity by breaking the patterns passed from father to son – that really encapsulate the poetic melancholy of a strained familial relationship.
That said, the album’s softer instrumentals are well-crafted with carefully placed emphasis, and they strike this balance particularly well when exploring youth and growth in How Hard It Is To Be 20 (someone should tell them it’s harder at 25).
However, it would be nice to see The Rions lean further into bolder sounds in the future, and gain confidence with a little more sonic experimentation. The record is slightly formulaic in places, but it’s certainly a strong debut, and an emblem of the band’s ambition and determination to get to this point.
The Rions’ “impossible dream” maybe wasn’t so impossible, after all.
Alexandra Pullen