Silver Liz : III
There’s an apartment in Brooklyn that houses a couple who’ve quietly brewed hazy shoegaze since the late 2010s. Inside is Silver Liz, the partner duo of Carrie and Matt Wagner, whose sound is heavily indebted to ‘90s alternative music. They describe their third album, III, as a “third time’s the charm” moment, which is appropriate. Everything about III points to it being their most substantial release: the arrangements flow and surprise more than ever, and they’ve struck a balance between warm ambience and noisy feedback.
Carrying hints of alternative dance, particularly in the stuttering synthpop of “Trixie’s Crying” and “Dream More Vivid”’s hypnagogic breakbeats, the genre’s other revivalists would take it to overdrive, leaning into heightened euphoria. Silver Liz consciously do the opposite, introducing feedback only when necessary to keep some semblance of reality. After all, III’s origins are in a relatable place. In between their first two albums, the Wagners relocated from Chicago to Brooklyn, but found their New York City friends gradually moving away not long after they moved. To cope with the growing isolation, they found solace in songwriting, and this energy crept through III’s more fragile songs.
“Through the Trees” and “23” resemble deep cuts from an obscure electronica release on Darla Records. In fact, the former is especially reminiscent of the label’s celebrated Sweet Trip, with its tender guitar lines morphing into elongated glitch pop that disperses into monolithic bliss, all while Carrie’s gentle voice triumphantly ties the vulnerability together. Elsewhere, Matt jumps on vocals for the vaguely Breeders-esque noise-pop numbers “Ten Years” and “Black Swimming Pool,” the latter more morbid than its earworm riffs and Carrie’s woos let on—a cautionary tale about not swimming in a pool at night to avoid drowning.
I’m hoping that notion isn’t true for the band, since the song is too lighthearted for it, but the succinct lyric “I’m fading” evokes something darker. Closer “She Was Popular” re-enters that haunting mode, as Carrie echoes the vocals of My Bloody Valentine’s Bilinda Butcher, but unobscured—any imitations of the shoegaze pioneers’ towering guitar textures are essentially non-existent. With no turbulence to be heard, III fades out gracefully. It becomes clear here that Silver Liz wonderfully balance the hard and soft, allowing them both to coexist. III shows the duo briefly doing so with incredible familiarity, while also remaining intensely personal.
Label: Extremely Pure
Year: 2026
Similar Albums:
