Pearly Drops brighten up on The Voices Are Coming Back

A vulnerable breeze is immediately felt upon the first acoustic chords of “Delusional On Sunset Blvd”, which are bolstered by shimmering synths that prove to be an uncharacteristic backdrop for Tervonen’s distinctly elven voice. The Voices Are Coming Back is a newly bright-hued venture for Pearly Drops; instrumentally, there’s little haze to be heard. Instead of recording in their familiar home of Finland, they physically branched out to the glamour of California, a move both alienating and magical.

No longer are Pearly Drops’ haunting, Cure-esque bass drones and buoyant synthpop melodies clouded by shadows. Their 2020 debut album, Call For Help, contemplated solitude, while its 2023 follow-up, A Little Disaster, took it further by confronting death; here, Pearly Drops are almost estranged, navigating their dispelling of this darkness. The polished, sunnier arrangements leave The Voices Are Coming Back as Pearly Drops’ most accessible affair. Not that their earlier gothic sensibilities were not, but this lighter introspection is more for moving forward with hope than sinking into collapse.

Pearly Drops haven’t entirely shed their identity either, with sombre shades persisting in places: the occasional voice sample vocalising the anxious album title, enforcing some through-line; Australian pop group Cub Sport’s spacious operatic outro on “Mermaid”; and the anguishing lyrics, such as “Laying in my mess / Mermaid in her manhole / It’s gone bad / I’m drinking the poison / I am seeing visions while awake” on the former song.

The feverish words and strobing synth leads create a hallucinatory push and pull between self-deprecation and the pursuit of stardom. “Ratgirl” is a sweaty, bouncy new wave throwback, a neat fit for the ongoing indie sleaze revival, but it’s also uncanny for its eerie words. “Shallow” is a swaying electropop banger, but friend and photographer Tatiana Bruening’s unfiltered voice memos on loneliness bleakly dampen the party. “End Credits” is one of the few moments not forcibly perturbed by gloom – its brilliant maze-like riffage and driving percussion is an inescapable earworm.

The sunniness briefly remains – “Pillow Face” is a speedier retread of “Ratgirl” – but the tried-and-true trap beats on “Cocoon & Tatiana’s Lament” and nebulous, melting skitters on “Silver Lake Mystery Forest” are a discomfiting and gimmicky diversion to what uncharted territory came before. Maybe that burnout ending The Voices Are Coming Back is a fitting conclusion: To reach for fame, one’s sense of self can slip from their hands, so Pearly Drops still sound at their best feeding on the dark.