Football, etc. – Disappear EP

In a few short years, Football, etc. has earned a reputation as one of emo’s blossoming upstarts.  Bringing a female vocal perspective to what is often regarded as an old boys club, the Houston trio has become known for their combination of relaxing harmonies and simplistic charm.  As an emo act, Football, etc. doesn’t beg for pity, but rather delivers their desperate scenarios in a very matter-of-fact tone, as if merely describing the events from a deadpan expression (not unlike the vocals found in The American Scene).  Their latest EP, Disappear, features four confident doses of their melancholy style.

Relaxing but disdained, opener “Sunday” kicks off with simple, bright chords just shy of twinkly.  “Sometimes I find myself in an awful place, but I can pretend, that I am not there, and I disappear, and then I am fine again,” describes front woman Lindsay Minton of coping through emotionally draining scenarios.  The track’s graceful scope maintains Football, etc.’s  reputation as a more somber and minimalist mashup of Dowsing and Joie De Vivre.  “Sweep” follows up with a darker, bass-heavy twist, with Minton showing her tonal similarities to The Cranberries.  Slow stroked violins amplify the dank delivery with a subtle, sorrowful charm echoed again later in “Open.”  Make no mistake about it though, the subject matter can get pretty grim.  For example, “Receive” depicts the very real scenario of avoiding the experience of true loss by leaving picking up an ominous yet expected telephone call to the final ring.  It’s a very striking moment.

Disappear remains a solid summation of Football, etc.’s consistent and celebrated output.  The band remains confident and committed to much of their past songwriting structure and themes, all the while maintaining a tight rein over exactly what they envision.  All four songs exhibit a similar sound, leaving Football, etc. open to accusation of sameness, but a more suitable explanation might be closer to that of channeling a complimentary indie-pop meets emo synergy.  Disappear might be short, but its distinct charm certainly makes for a memorable listen.