“On A Stick”
Welcome back and welcome home to all music Lovers in the greater Wilmington area, happily returning for the first time in September for another installment of the somewhat continuous, ever-infrequently recurring, but persisting nonetheless, Song of the Week (we’re trying our best out here). Absolutely no cool dudes are allowed for this reading as this week we joyously present Exercise and their debut full-length album, Shrug.
Review and Exposition
Writing these reviews, which include a combination of detailed engagement with the songs combined with some background digging into the bands and artists spotlighted, fosters connections I would have found impossibly unforeseen with just a general pass through of the artists’ work. Such is the profound reasoning as to why we deeply believe in music sharing/listening as an essential practice into communal discovery: one may find they not only enjoy the face value creation of an individual or group but also share similar, sometimes niche interests.
I’m no seaworthy wickie and I can’t recall the last time I found myself pacing a treadmill, yet “On a Stick,” is one of the most relatable listens I’ve had amongst any song in recent memory. Robert Egger’s 2019 film The Lighthouse is a wild maelstrom of unpredictability, just as it is a deeply approachable tale of isolation’s descent into insanity. A colorless story of two lighthouse keepers (wickies) unfolds as they attempt to maintain the physical structure of a lighthouse against the inevitable force of nature and struggle for the upkeep of their own mental fortitude, isolated from any human contact save with each other, while preparing for a violent storm bearing down from the sea, prepared to test their wit’s end.
“Bad luck to kill a seabird,” is an age-old sailor’s superstition and the initiation of the unraveling of both characters’ fates in The Lighthouse. Robert Pattinson’s Ephraim Winslow murders a one-eyed seagull he believes to be mocking him, drastically shifting the winds meant to lead his homeward bound boat to his rescue, instead ushering in the aforementioned violent storm that spells their untimely ruin. Exercise’s Matt Wilkins recounts this line of superstition with an emphasis on repetition and dispels the film’s particular brand of chaos into the song. The parallels of a monotonous, procedural tale emerge in both mediums of work, as if Exercise is establishing a screenplay of their own. Each day, regardless of the conditions that meet us, begins with our awakening. “I get up, brush my legs off and bite my nails on down to the nub/ I’m running in place on a treadmill that is just speeding up,” the realities of life see to it that waking up doesn’t always begin with a fine line of sun illuminating a day we look to with tranquil reassurance. On this treadmill of life, we learn to adjust to its beginning, gradual motion underfoot, but inevitably, storms are sure to find their way to each of our shores as the speed of the machine increases. Anxiety and worry arise naturally as we alone find ourselves ill-fitted to keep up with the persistent humming below that would send us tumbling off the edge into wreckage.
As fun as it is to lyrically derive meaning from a song utilizing references from The Lighthouse, what really lends the lasting impact of the song is the total cohesiveness of arrangement Exercise constructs through just the three members. Remove the lyrics entirely from the song and what remains holds the same emotional weight, and allows for a similar story to be dissected from the bridges of tightly-knit, scaling verses into the pandemonium of the reciprocated chorus. The fusing of the divide between the lyrical impetus and instrumental accompaniment displays the intention and ability of Exercise to deliver brilliance. The drums and bass, supplied by Daniel Jones and Matt Underwood respectively, steadily tick to the tune of the minute hand and establish the pace of Exercise’s treadmill of anxiety. Deliberately placed guitar riffs ring within a side view of the listener’s attention and echo warnings similar to a foghorn ,adding a layered complexity to the strangely unique sound. Exercise ultimately and genuinely cultivates one of the most striking sounds within the Wilmington music scene by exploring the directions we are driven to in our relationships with our own sanities, dispelled over a track that seemingly falls apart while remaining intensely connected.
What’s Next
Exercise has spent a little more than 6 years as a band, this first full-length release serving as a long awaited deliverance of the band’s tireless work and dedication. They have spent the time since the release of the album ramping up their bookings and satisfying the desire of those wanting to experience their musical exports in person. Follow along on their Instagram @exercise_bands for future show dates and potential releases.
Ben “Danger” Matthews | PCE
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