With their sixth studio album, Aperture, the Head and the Heart strive to define their sound and regain their creative agency. The album finds the group taking artistic control. The result is a self-produced and self-directed album that leans into vulnerability underlined by personal and creative agency. As band member Matt Gervais said, “It’s about choosing hope again and again, no matter how many times it may feel that you have lost it.” Even as the Head and the Heart identify the challenges in grasping it, hope unequivocally defines the record.
Aperture opens with “After the Setting Sun“, which is rooted in the band’s signature hooks and emotional harmonies. Its title and lyrics serve as a metaphor for emotional transition: cornerstone themes evident across the Head and the Heart’s oeuvre. The track begins with restraint, before moving into a full, cathartic release, synchronizing the music to reflect the album’s theme. The sun, in this case, isn’t a symbol of finality, but of the possibility to choose hope, especially as things remain uncertain.
Further deepening Aperture‘s emotional exploration, “Cop Car” and “Jubilee” both examine internal tensions, albeit from differing perspectives. “Cop Car”, finds drummer Tyler Williams taking on lead vocals, offering a fresh voice and raw energy. Here, the lyrics depict the desire to escape a constrained life and recapture a sense of freedom. “Jubilee”, in contrast, evokes the tension between joy and reality. Both lyrics hint at loss and longing. Yet, these tracks emphasize choosing hope as a deliberate act despite the challenges that persist.
As they explore and expand their artistry, the Head and the Heart align self-awareness with autonomy. Tracks like “Arrow” feature rhythmic percussion, with melodic guitars driving the song forward. Whereas “Arrow” reaches out, “Time With My Sins” looks inward. These lyrics highlight the uncomfortable yet necessary process of confronting your own flaws. Whereas choosing hope can be messy, tumultuous, or seemingly unachievable, this is far more powerful than granting control to something greater than us.
Despite its emotional honesty, Aperture’s middle stretch loses momentum. “Beg, Steal, Borrow” and “Pool Break” blur together not because the tracks sound identical, but because the lyrical content lacks the same depth found elsewhere. Lines like “Like pleasure and pain, the smell of the rain” and “Maybe the sun’ll come out tomorrow” undercut the record’s sentiment and the group’s drive for creative agency. The intentionality in reference to Annie or Bitter Pill is unclear, but once you hear it, you can’t unhear it. Likewise, here again, the sun imagery reemerges across the album and is rendered as an overused motif. Around this point, redundancy creeps in, rendering Aperture flat.
“Finally Free” is a standout moment, particularly for Charity Rose Thielen. With a simple, stripped-down piano arrangement, the track allows her voice to take center stage. The vulnerability in her delivery sparks the emotionality that drives Aperture. “Finally Free” occupies a somewhat unique space: it is one of the rare instances where Thielen’s vocal contribution is brought to the forefront. Her vocal talents, despite their evident strength and emotive quality, are reserved. Her vocals are often heard within the harmonies and ensemble textures rather than taking the lead. Perhaps this is one of the challenges of embodying creative agency within a collective effort. Alternatively, her vocals may be underutilized.
Returning to Gervais’ statement, he mentions the album is about “resigning ourselves to darkness or letting the light in and recognizing our own agency to do so”. Accordingly, the word “aperture”, taken from photography, refers to light, focus, and exposure. On the one hand, this conceptually aligns with the album. Yet, on the other hand, the irony is unignorable: As individual tracks carry Aperture and signal the Head and the Heart’s growth, it stands as a compelling return that stops short of a full transformation.