On their third album Melt the Honey, PACKS (aka Canadian slacker rock star Madeline Link and band) invite us on a road trip through life’s unpredictable contradictions.
Melt the Honey was written over an 11-day odyssey from the bustle of Mexico City to the serenity of Xalapa, Veracruz. PACKS, comprised of Link (vocals, guitar), Dexter Nash (guitar), Noah O’Neil (bass), and Shane Hooper (drums), gathered first in a rented studio space to put the first pieces of the album together. From there, they travelled by bus to Xalapa in the lush heart of Mexico, where unpredictable thunder and rain meet intense swells of heat. Holed up at Casa Pulpo, an architecturally bizarre house run by Wendy Moira of performing arts theatre Teatro Lucido, the place provided a mix of creative inspiration and challenge that ultimately shapes Melt the Honey‘s appeal. Recording on a minimal set-up, PACKS were plagued by outages caused by storms and inconsistent electrical wiring. Undeterred, the band dug deeper into their shared purpose, working within these constraints and everything that Casa Pulpo provided for them, with a laid-back camaraderie. This sense of ease finds its way into each song, oozing through the cracks (as the title implies) and coating the whole thing with a sticky optimism that’s hard to resist.
Opening with an older song, ’89 days’, Link’s unhurried languid tones chew each phrase like candied tamarind, while the band wrestle their weighty, grungier sound down to a quiet hum. “No backups for 89 days / I click on close but the thought still remains”, Link drawls, in a relatably anxious yet unresigned mood. And so it continues, with every riff and line PACKS picks a bit more at the tiny hanging threads of our daily lives. Every unread book, unspoken promise and unsent text which goes to clog up our sense of freedom and joy.
Next, ‘Honey,’ the almost-title track, written in a Chilean beach town where Link briefly lived with her romantic partner, is steeped in feelings of contentment and resolution. With Diego Parragué’s wurlitzer-like keys it becomes a sun-kissed musical holiday postcard, more settled when compared to PACKS’ earlier releases. ‘Pearly Whites’ merges dusty acoustic textures and 90s fuzzy drones, like Swell meets The Breeders, while ‘HFCS’ , the album’s key single, is a head-buzz rush of pure scuzz pop. Link’s laughter, her bold lead guitar, and the track’s power pop vibes are unnerving and exhilarating. Those retro-sounding keys return on ‘AmyW’, introducing a psych-textured interlude, leading into ‘Take Care‘, a fever dream and the closest thing to a love ballad on Melt the Honey: “With me I don’t take care/But with you I will I swear”.
There are several layers to explore on Melt the Honey, with Link taking inspiration from literature (specifically, On The Road by Jack Kerouac, and Kurt Vonnegut’s Palm Sunday), paintings, cinematography and even the desperate meows of a stray cat during recording. In ‘Her Garden’, Link’s view on the world tilts suddenly and surprisingly – a Dutch angle captures a moment of blurry reflection between waking and dreams. On ‘Paige Machine’ rain hisses defiantly as Shane Hooper’s count-in sets the stage for a song about the futile pursuit of perfection. Retelling the story of Mark Twain and the ill-fated Paige Compositor, it’s a cautionary tale about obsession and the intricate dance between creation and chaos. ‘Missy’ is told from Casa Pulpo’s stray cat’s perspective, with Lupita Rico’s Spanish spoken word verse creating a sharply witty dynamic between humans and feline: “Oh. Did I get those fleas to bite you?” Next, ‘Trippin’ taps into the rhythmic pulse of a shoe’s soul as it stumbles across the floor, becoming a metaphor for life’s unpredictable turns. Gently plucked and slide guitar layers form a repeating loop – a weird glitch in time, repeated and savored. There’s a similarly repeating refrain on closer ‘Time Loop’. This time, while time slips away, love persists: “It’s not hopeless yet/ hope you come back soon“, sings Link, a serenade and a feeling that sums up the beating heart of this album.
Melt the Honey comes less than a year after last April’s Crispy, Crunchy Nothing, an album that proved Link’s ability to find hope within life’s downers even if it was a bit nuanced and nonchalant. This time, we get a more captivating exploration of PACKS’ genuine world, where those imperfections and creativity dance together under warm Mexican rain. Melt the Honey beautifully captures the absurdity and importance of life’s fleeting moments. Whether they’re flea bites, head rushes, smooth kisses or wind-blown hair, it’s all part of our own, unique, unfolding story.
