The Weekly Coos

Comparatively more sonically upbeat than her debut album, Good At Falling, but still retaining some of the depth and familiarity one has gotten used to in her writing, The Japanese House’s – Real Name: Amber Mary Bain – new album, In The End It Always Does continues to stride with consistency. Mirroring the title of her debut, Bain relays music that steers heavily within an emotionally rich ecosphere, leaving you with these songs filled with hope and moments of defeat and echoing the calmness and chaos that comes with love and friendship. Though not a perfect album, Bain’s vocals become a defining aspect that can elevate the song further. Sometimes it’s more like “Spot Dog,” tender with some experimentations; sometimes it’s more lively and direct like “Friends,” a song co-written by Charli XCX, yet as it refines itself as an album towards the end, you’ll find enough to like here to repeat, mainly because of the writing and vocal performance, even with some lesser moments. It’s a solid follow-up for the British Musician, and one I enjoy slightly more than her debut, and that has a lot to do with its many bright spots.

Key to In The End It Always Does greatness comes from its consistency, allowing one to feel a juxtaposed elevated mood through the rough moments. As Amber Bain would note about the making of “Friends,” one of the highlights on the album, “I had a much slower version of this originally. George and I were both pretty depressed at this point, and I think we sped it up just to make a dance tune to cheer us up. I think we were a bit sick of listening to all these sad songs.” It is resonant here, especially as Bain gets cheeky with the in-song shifts between melancholy and vibrancy. Danceability is to the ear of the beholder – through my ears, she brings that with some songs; there are a few cases the music shifts become grander as it finds balance amongst atmospheric constructs that it takes you for a whirlwind as you pivot to the radiancy of “Friends” from the captivatingly smooth but slightly streamlined electro-pop “Touching Yourself.” Not in succession, but as you let the album run its course through this world, Bain is creating on the album.

It’s within this world that the production has some consistency as it rides a wave of great synergy between the synths and string sections, adding an undercoating to the vocal performance and elevating it further. Bain’s vocals keep me latched onto her music, especially on In The End It Always Does, where she can flip the projections and tone of her voice to match any instrumental shift, especially as the songs transition between different complexions as it progresses. In the first eight songs, the music teeters more towards these slightly livelier pop-rock sounds, allowing a side of her to shine while finding beautiful contrast when the vocals temper for something more somber, transitioning from something more danceable and vice-versa, especially as she goes about in this direction, as opposed to keeping an experimental loop we heard with the song “Lilo” off her debut album. But she continues to keep interest afloat with the way she reflects on these themes, like that of sexting on “Touching Yourself” when talking about love and romance or feeling open to say how you feel with the beautiful ballad “Morning Pages,” which features lovely guest vocals by Katie Gavin of MUNA. 

The way Bain incorporates themes through reflections on life helps guide the album mostly fluidly. It starts to narrowly taper off with the last few songs, aiming for sobering conclusions instead of building off “Friends” and keeping a pop flow intact. Though the final track, “One for sorrow, two for Joni Jones,” is powerfully poignant and potent, the lead-up isn’t always as gripping. As good as Bain’s vocals and the writing is, the production that follows “Friends” is predominately more straightforward, never seeming to reel you into the confines of the final product. It’s modestly forgettable. So as the songs waver in tempo between sounds that are either indie-alt-rock or electro-pop or a hybrid, you’re left lost within everything placed above it. It’s “Sunshine Baby,” the song following “Friends,” which carries some light hovering above it – it does not have the right flare to ignite these more innocuous blander productions into something more memorable, like “Sad To Breathe” or “You always get what you want,” which brings a subtle twang to the strings, adding some fun dimensions to its core.

As Amber Bain would note on Instagram, “So happy with this album, I can’t wait for you all to vibe…Was such a pleasure to make it with my friends, lots of them, popping in and out, in the sunshine, in the rain, in the middle of the day, in the middle of the night, hackney wick, always laughing…,” and though she accomplishes that vibe, not every song carries a memorable production, like “Sunshine Baby” and “Baby Goes Again.” The latter brings mundane sonic orchestrations that feel too low in comparison, leaving it as a fleeting moment you forget as the album ends and you have it repeat. Sometimes the production can tread familiar territory, but Bain’s vocals elevate it slightly above. Throughout the album, we hear Bain reflecting on her past and accepting the outcomes of certain situations, positive or not. And even in the weaker moments, the writing continues to find its moments to shine, just not enough to make it feel whole. It’s how I’m more adamant about the first half, where there is more consistency, even with more somber songs like “Over There” and “Morning Pages.”

On In The End It Always Does, we get music about re-enforcing one’s identity and feeling strong, flowing through life with this certainty guided by love, hope, and growth. It boasts the value of writing as it tries to maneuver these more jovial electronic components so that the sadder songs carry more nuance in retrospection since you want to get an understanding of Bain as she delivers the album with such depth. It kept me attracted to the flow of sounds, with the little things brightening already gripping melodies and harmonies. She leaves you with that and more, but you come around to skipping the underwhelming songs when listening again. I considerably liked it more than her debut, though I still hold “Lilo” from it in such high regard; I will find myself returning to this quite a bit.