On his fifth album, Aaron Maine is having more fun, writing more playfully, staying out of his own head. It’s some of his most succinct and enjoyable songwriting to date.
All Day Gentle Hold !, the fifth album by Porches, goes down with all the acrid sweetness of late summer’s most distinctive pleasures. It evokes the unique jouissance of, say, a cheap cigarette that’s a little too tarry or the first sip of a Slurpee cut with a little too much vodka—sensations that define the phrase “too much of a good thing,” the kinds of sensory overload experiences that trigger intense, indelible memories. Running a scant 25 minutes and featuring some of Aaron Maine’s most succinct and enjoyable songwriting, it distances him from the too-cool chilliness of 2020’s Ricky Music, instead embracing the effusive, heart-on-sleeve tone that made early records like 2013’s Slow Dance in the Cosmos so remarkable.
For all its romantic exclamations, of which there are many, All Day Gentle Hold ! is not an about-face or a retread of a past iteration of Porches. The progression is simple but significant: In contrast to the angsty remove of Ricky Music and 2018’s The House, Maine sounds totally at ease. After a few years working out the knots in his music—not to mention a year of forced isolation—he emerges cheekier and more flamboyant. (The lyric sheet, peppered with “u” in place of “you” and an abundance of exclamation marks, captures the new exuberance.) Rather than create a binary where electronic means alienated and rock means engaged, All Day Gentle Hold ! finds a comfortable middle ground: the vocal manipulations feel warmer and the rhythmic backbone carries the energy of a live rock band. At the end of “Lately,” Maine announces himself to the world like he’s standing on the Pyramid Stage: “Crying out! How’s everybody holding up out there??!!/I miss you so much...”
Cosplaying as the frontman of a festival band is just one of Maine’s techniques for conveying the bombastic rush of the Best Summer Ever. He is “sucking on a watermelon slush,” “sipping on another Camel Blue”; he smells “blood everywhere” and likes it. He’s touching and being touched—“Baby has got the keys/Can u stick them into me/Wanna take me for a ride”—and watching a friend sleep in the grass. And, of course, he’s listening, not just to the eddy of guitars and synths that comprise All Day Gentle Hold ! but also to a song that “really slapped, brought me back to life,” and to Sonic Youth, whose “Bull in the Heather” he interpolates on “Swimming Big.” When Maine upcycles that song’s “10, 20, 30, 40” chant, the phrase feels like it’s slipped into his own vernacular, in the same way you might find yourself incorporating the language of a beloved pop song in day-to-day life. It’s less interpolation than diegetic moment. All Day Gentle Hold ! is pleasantly unwieldy in this way, heaving with ideas that are odd in isolation but seem totally normal when used so fluently.
All Day Gentle Hold ! brings its own “10, 20, 30, 40” chant in the form of “I Miss That,” whose hook is one of the most joyfully replicable phrases to come out of indie rock this year. Atop a jolting beat and synths that sound like they’re melting in the sun, Maine’s words take on the redolence of a mantra or a schoolyard chant: “I like that/I like that/I like that/I miss that/I miss that/I miss that.” It’s a perfect hook to sing aimlessly and ambiently, with its own built-in percussive qualities: the sibilance in “miss” cut off by the hardness of “that,” mirroring the hiss of hi-hats and thwack of a snare. It’s one of Maine’s best songs, and all the better for its simplicity. Despite the nostalgizing of its title, “I Miss That” is in the moment.
Those small, important differences make All Day Gentle Hold ! stand out in the Porches catalog. Maine is having more fun, writing more playfully, staying out of his own head, keeping things simple. “Grab the Phone,” a stomping, straightforward rocker, returns to the dynamic vocal performances of his best early work, a reminder of just how much is lost when he deadpans or shrouds his voice in Auto-Tune; his lyrics take the point of view of a fish (“Don’t bite the hook, I just let it slide through my teeth/Pull me up, wanna show u some of my teeth”) but his sing-song lilt imbues the surreal words with mirth and feeling. That All Day Gentle Hold ! is one of Maine’s least ambitious records is part of its puckish appeal. These are some of Maine’s most generous and indelible songs, so much so that the album’s 25 minutes feel too brief. Like the best summers, it’s done in an instant—but the feeling lasts long after it’s over.
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