“Love comes in and out of our lives and we have very little control over it. It takes advantage of you, and you take advantage of it. It’s breathing and living…” Kyle Durfey (vocalist/lyricist) wrote this four days ago and I found that it encapsulated the theme/tone of Wait For Love perfectly. Although I feel like I cheated waiting until the week of its release to truly begin writing about the album, I haven’t stopped thinking about it for the last three months. Every time I’d finish it, I’d be left speechless by the end of it, I’d go to write about it, but I’d be at a loss for words. It’s subtle, yet so powerful. It wasn’t until Durfey wrote this a couple days ago, when I truly felt I could finally find the words to write about their recent masterpiece. Thank you, Kyle.
Since their departure from being an emotional hardcore band, they’ve now crafted two albums, Keep You and Wait For Love, with more atmosphere and soundscapes than most in recent memory. Durfey entirely abandoned his screamed vocals for soft sung lines. Like Keep You, it possesses the Will Yip-styled production (he did, in fact, produce both records), but not nearly as claustrophobic. Where Keep You was only the beginning in Durfey’s evolution as to fully accepting his father being gone, Wait For Love is him becoming one, and finally figuring out what “Love” truly is, and the pressure we put on “Love,” and finding it, in any circumstance.
Not only is Wait For Love a showcase for Durfey’s writing, it’s a colossal leap for the unit. One aspect of the band that drew me to them has always been David Haik’s drum parts, and that only shows greater on this. Right from the first second of “Fake Lighting,” (a personal favorite of mine) we are taken by a drum beat that’s very much Haik’s. This continuously shines throughout the entirety of the album’s 46 minutes. But don’t think Haik’s the only musician who evolved their craft on Wait For Love. Zac Sewell’s bass lines are tighter, and the chemistry between guitarists Chad McDonald and Michael York are even more stupendous than ever. Wait For Love sees Pianos Become The Teeth becoming the best version of them that they possibly could.
While the musicians in the group are important, Pianos Become The Teeth has always served as an intense emotional outlet for Kyle Durfey. The first release, Old Pride, was him yelling and morbidly fucking depressed over just losing his father. The following release, The Lack Long After, found Durfey finding a form of solace in his father’s passing—screaming, but getting quieter as the album finished. Keep You, though, felt like the end of a “trilogy” of sorts. He was singing about his father and growing forward in his own life, and that’s where Wait For Love comes into play. He’s writing about a fuller life, becoming a father, and confessing that he has to let go of his past, and strive to be a better father to his newborn. I find Kyle Durfey’s evolution, as both a songwriter and a human being, to be a gorgeous one.
Durfey wrote “Love” is “dying once and then again when everyone forgets about you. It’s on repeat… It’s forgiveness.” I’ve spent the better part of my short life trying to figure out what the fuck “Love” truly is, and Wait For Love made me think even deeper about the true meaning of it. As referenced in the first paragraph, you, the reader, can read about what “Love” is to Durfey. While I wanted to write specifically about every song on Wait For Love, I also didn’t want to spoil the album for anyone. I want you to read this insight into the genius of Pianos Become The Teeth and listen to Wait For Love, and then tell me what “Love” means to you. To me, “Love” is “Everything.”
As Durfey also wrote: “It is not necessary to read this before listening to our record, but in doing so, my hope is that you keep these words in mind whilst you do.” This much is also true for this piece of writing. Thank you.