Dizzy got some well-deserved attention after the release of their debut album Baby Teeth two summers ago. The four-piece out of Oshawa, Ontario displayed a dreamy alternative pop sound with a star-gazing quality and spoke on the messiness of teenage years in the most gorgeous manner. The album went on to win the Juno Award for “Alternative Album of the Year” in 2019.
The Sun and Her Scorch takes a different approach both musically and conceptually. Gone is the condensed dream-pop atmosphere that dominated their debut and instead, the band has taken on a somewhat more organic sound. As for the subject matter, vocalist Katie Munshaw is now looking inward as she tackles qualities about herself that she’s not very proud of.
“I wanted to be completely honest about the things nobody ever wants to admit,” she said in a press release, “like being jealous of your friends or pushing away the people who love you.”
The album opens with “Worms.” It’s a mesmerizing slow-build containing a voicemail recording that appears to be from Munshaw’s Grandma checking in on her and trying to arrange a coffee date. You get the feeling that Munshaw’s been ignoring phone calls. When the beat hits she sings, “Reach your hand down to me and I will bite it/I’ve been sleeping with the worms and I’m used to it.”
If “Worms” is Munshaw making a home for herself in the dirt, then the following “Sunflower” is her trying to dig herself out of it. The lead single takes a looping sample of a voice note from a choir Munshaw and drummer Charlie Spencer heard at a rec centre. It creates a vibrant and exciting pull to the song and it stands out as bigger and brighter than anything heard off their debut.
There is certainly an added confidence to their sophomore. The band is credited as co-producer and took on a self-directed approach, dipping their hands into every aspect of the album’s creation. The album’s more open and natural feel can be attributed to their wonderful use of live instrumentation.
It’s not to say they’ve completely lost the dreamy appeal of their debut. “Lefty” trods on a soft and bubbly palette, Munshaw commenting on her co-dependency in a relationship. It’s the drums during the song’s vocal-processed outro that steer away from the dream-like state as they let the cymbal strike unlike anything off Baby Teeth.
“Beatrice,” named after a street in Oshawa, has more of that dream-like familiarity. Munshaw appears to be taking comfort in a certain someone who she knows can’t fix her problems but is there to listen. In the end, they go their separate ways.
