Heartwork – Three Alley Cats and The Impossible Sky

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Goodbyes are always hard. Whether it’s breaking up with someone who you once thought was “the one”, or just saying goodbye to a friend you know you won’t see for quite some time, that feeling of the unknown of what comes next can be crippling. Heartwork have released their final album today called Three Alley Cats & The Impossible Sky that marks a proper send-off for the genre-blurring project of Dan O’Dell. O’Dell shared, “The main thing was to say everything I needed. Heartwork has been a huge part of my life, but it’s time to put it to bed and move on—after a well-earned break.” Three Alley Cats & The Impossible Sky marks an important last step in Heartwork’s artistic growth, and he says goodbye with grace on a record filled with plenty of twists and turns, and nods to the height of our scene during the early 00’s.

The ten-track album kicks off with a great-sounding guitar riff on the opener of “Once More With Healing,” that evoked the emotions of post-hiatus Thrice with its complex song structure and atmospheric elements paired with O’Dell’s smooth vocal croon. The steady, pick-me-up drum beat on “Don’t You Know, They’re Going to Kill Us?” helps with setting the tempo and mood of the second song on the LP, and O’Dell’s vocal delivery is somewhere between Bayside and Say Anything. It’s a great-sounding song that opens with, “There’s a monster in this house / And I’m three quick breaths from passing out / But I hope that it’ll leave me alone if I just lay still,” and gets to the core of that uncomfortable feeling of noticing that something is just “not right.” The song explodes into a memorable chorus, and features a driving guitar groove throughout.

”Unreliable Narrator” features a nice guest vocal performance from George Gadd, as the two vocalists trade lyrical lines and harmonize on the chorus of, “I keep telling myself to stop going on about it / All the context clues are piling up and counting / There’s an unreliable narrator in my head / Repeating line after line of a life that I once led.” The song reminded me a bit of The Ataris, especially their Welcome The Night-era of the band, with equally-thrilling results found here. “Strikethrough” is a pretty straightforward indie rock song that picks up steam as it gets going down its path, and O’Dell commands the track with veteran poise. When he recalls his past of, “Back then, I was impassioned and you were pragmatic / We were a sickness; both creatures of habit, addicts / Emphatically pushed me in then pulled away / I think about it every day,” it’s a remarkable admission that is both relatable and human in its confession.

”White Noise” kicks off the back half of the record with a more somber opening guitar tone and gentle cymbal crashes before O’Dell gradually adds in more instrumentation and offers softly-sung vocals to the mix. The song accelerates to the finish line, and the crescendo is pure emo rock bliss. “Grey (With an ‘E’)” features some great guitar riffing from O’Dell and provides a nice canvas for him to provide his great lyrical poetry over. I personally loved the second verse of, “What did I smoke and who did I offend? / How did we get home? / How much did I spend? / Which words do I need to redact? / Shit, that’s bad man, can you delete that? / It doesn’t even matter in the end…” that is filled with questions of self-doubt and regret. The key track of “None More Punk” lives up to its name with a slick, spiraling guitar riff and a driving bass line that evokes the feelings of punk bands like Anxious and L.S. Dunes.

”Glimmer” is a speedy punk rocker that finds O’Dell leaning more into an abrasive/screamed vocal cadence in the verses, while digging into the heavier melodic elements in the chorus. It ends up being one of the heavier moments on the record, and makes sense on its placement in the sequencing. “The Seldom Scene Kid” finds O’Dell at his most vulnerable as he shares, “I’m sick of feeling like a failure every other fucking week / The memory erases as I find my feet again and take a step I’ll be caught dead before I admit defeat.” O’Dell leaves himself open to criticism, and yet he finds a way to find the silver lining in the end. The sprawling album closer “Palimpsest” begins on a somber note, but as it unfolds, it features some of O’Dell’s best guitar work to date with the ending guitar solo that eventually fades into the abyss as a fitting final note for Heartwork.

The quote/unquote “scene kids” are going to gobble up Three Alley Cats & The Impossible Sky like candy, as it hones in on the nostalgia of the height of the emo/punk movement, and still finds new ways of highlighting Heartwork’s growth as a project. Saying goodbye to Heartwork seems especially difficult when O’Dell has crafted some of his best material to date on this final LP of the band. You may now ride off into the sunset, Heartwork, well done.

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