Tropical F*ck Storm - Submersive Behavior Album Review

In June 2022, a harrowing video of a man submerging underwater to avoid the shockwave of an explosion in Beirut went viral. This video resonated with so many people because, in an era of global disarray and uncertainty, it showed one person’s response to a catastrophe far beyond themselves. When faced with the chaos and unpredictability of modern life, how do we deal with the shockwave? This question is at the center of experimental rock band Tropical F*ck Storm’s newest album, Submersive Behavior. Composed of vocalists Gareth Liddiard and Fiona Kitschin, drummer Lauren Hammel, and multi-instrumentalist Erica Dunn, TFS are notable for their lyricism and ability to capture the feeling of those lyrics through their instrumentals.

At 36 minutes, this album functions in two halves, a set of 4 standard-length tracks, and the opener, a monstrous 18-minute rock epic entitled “1983 (A Merman I Should Turn To Be).” “1983” tells the story of two lovers abandoning their war-torn home, walking into the sea, and descending toward a utopian Atlantis. Unlike most TFS songs, there are few lyrics, less than many of their typical-length songs. This economical lyricism allows the instruments to take charge, narrating the couple's journey with vivid soundscapes, crafting an unforgettable experience. Sunburnt guitars accompany the lovers as they “salute the last moment ever on dry land.” As they take the plunge, aquatic soundscapes give way to strange whisperings of abyssal creatures. You viscerally feel the water pressure, the weightlessness, the light of the surface gradually fading from view. In the song’s final phase, a dramatic build guides listeners to the grand reveal of Atlantis. This song is style and substance in equal measure. When the two lovers are met with the mayhem of an incomprehensible world, they flee. The plunge could represent suicide, with Atlantis as an afterlife. It could be escapism, as suggested by the album’s cartoonish cover. It could also represent descending an internet rabbit hole. The song’s title “1983,” could reference the year the internet officially began. Forty years later, many retreat online for the comfort of echo chambers so they can simplify a complex, chaotic modern world.

It’s quite easy to forget that there are other tracks on this album. Submersive Behavior’s structure leaves these tracks out to dry, which is a shame, because most pan out as interesting experiments. “Moonburn” is a clever metaphor for staying up late dreaming of possibilities, only to be too tired in the morning to act on them. Its swirling guitar lines slowly intensify until a satisfying, scorched-earth climax. “Aspirin (Slight Return)” is a gorgeous, lo-fi reinterpretation of one of the band’s best songs, with live, raw instrumentals that accentuate the personal lyrics. This song is also about how we cope, but with a personal, not a global, catastrophe. “The Golden Ratio” features a danceable, off-kilter hip-hop influenced beat that complements Liddiard’s unhinged yells of “The golden ratio, the only way we can survive,” and Kitschin’s cacophonous vocals. It’s messy, but its raw energy and unique textures keep it engaging. The underwhelming closer “Ann” is steeped in nostalgia, reminiscing about a pleasant memory with heavenly vocals and warbly guitars. The lyrics are entirely in the past tense, until halfway, when the words “Right now” jolt both narrator and listener away from this pleasant memory to the unpleasant present. This song lacks the emotional impact of “Aspirin (Slight Return) or the energy of “The Golden Ratio.” If the opener was instead the closer, these smaller tracks would thematically escalate toward the album’s major statement, but as is, there’s little momentum carrying you past the first track. While Subversive Behavior is poorly structured and occasionally messy, it brims with creative ideas and a strong, if cynical, thematic throughline. So, how do we avoid the shockwave? What do we do when we can’t keep our heads above water? According to TFS, we submerge, whether it’s drowning grief with nostalgia, chasing meaning down a rabbit hole, or dreaming of possibilities without working toward them.

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This review was originally written and published for Tastemakers Magazine