Richmond, Virginia’s Dumb Waiter reshapes their sound on their newest record, CHANGE, blending pop sensibilities with synth-like guitars, heavily effected saxophone, exhausted vocals, and plenty of blast beats. Released via Ossein Records, the band’s sixth album finds Nick Crider (guitar/vocals), Tristan Brennis (saxophone/vocals), Keith Paul (bass/vocals), and Nathaniel Roseberry (drums/vocals) merging pop structures with dense textures and unconventional ideas.
Formed in 2012, Dumb Waiter isn’t new to the scene, but their approach on their sixth album is a shocking sidestep from the high concept instrumental music they are known for. “I’ve really lost my love for complex music,” says Crider. “At some point, I realized that my ability wasn’t that interesting and my high concepts were more alienating than immersive.” CHANGE breaks from their past, shedding self-limiting complexity. Rather than relying on technical ability, the band leans into the weight of lived experience.
As a declaration of their new direction, the opening moments of the first track, “The Sun,” unfold with a somber, saxophone-led passage, hinting at yet another instrumental record. Then, without warning, the track ruptures. Ranting vocals begin. “There’s a hole where the sun used to be! Ah, forget it!” claims an already exasperated Crider. Blast beats thump, and a pounding bassline crashes into focus. In that instant, the band makes it clear: this is a departure, a deliberate shift into something new and determined.
The origins of CHANGE date back to 2022. During the pandemic, Dumb Waiter frantically wrote two records: TSK(2020) and Gauche Gists (2022). These records served as a tipping point for what the band could accomplish as an avant-garde instrumental band.
“The existential crisis we were all having at the time was filled with excessive writing. Eventually we just hit a wall with subjective, instrumental music. What more is there to say without saying anything? We quickly realized that we had a whole lot to say about the current state of the world and this hyper-acceleration of society that I think we’re all feeling day in day out,” explains Brennis.
The band’s vocal epiphany led to several years of scouring the Richmond scene in search of a singer. “Everyone we tried was great,” said Paul. “I’d start a band with any of them if I had the time, but in the end, nobody was the perfect fit. It also didn’t help that there were no more seats in the minivan.”
Ultimately, the band decided to work with the four voices they already had in the room. “I was worried about coming off disjointed,” writes Paul. “It was a test of strength to find common ground between us. It took a mountain of edits and communication to get it right.” The voices ultimately unified, and slowly Crider gained the confidence to step into a leading role. “The tonality of my vocals wasn’t something I struggled with. The real effort was in opening up enough to speak earnestly,” Crider explained. With lines like “I don’t like change, please don’t change on me” in “Change,” and “I can remember when you could remember” in “Memory,” Crider sings with striking sincerity.
Despite moving away from complexity, their experimental past continues to ooze out in every song. Throughout the album, clashing ideas are commonplace. Rather than these juxtaposing ideas becoming didactic, like in the past, CHANGE offers digestible, catchy genre-bending and layering without ever pointing it out. “We put a lot of effort into creating multifaceted pop that didn’t present as complex,” says Roseberry. “Even if there is ridiculous syncopation happening in the rhythm section, the other guys are smoothing it over to still keep that pop feel.”
There was never any doubt about where they would capture this new sound. Over the years, they’ve returned again and again to Baltimore, MD, to work with Kevin Bernstein at Developing Nations, a studio well known for its work with Full of Hell, Magrudergrind, Pianos Become the Teeth, and Pig Destroyer. “Kevin brings a valuable level of healthy detachment from our own internal, chaotic writing process,” Brennis explained. “He’s solely focused on the final picture and knows exactly which tool each moment of capture calls for.” After mixing with Kevin, CHANGE was handed off to another familiar contributor, James Plotkin (Sunn O))), Isis, and Pelican), for mastering.
Each subsequent track delves deeper into the band’s subtle misanthropy, navigating the inanity of the modern world through a cracked windshield. “Bones” explores work and death; “Change” wrestles with inertia and uniformity; “Drip” questions indoctrination and societal norms. “This is an unusual album,” reflects Paul. “At the same time, it’s tangible and feels relatable. Lines get stuck in your head the same way a Top 40 pop song nails itself into your brain while pumping gas. You can’t help but hum the hooks whether you like it or not.” With unyielding momentum, each track moves through unique sonic, rhythmic, and lyrical territory from start to finish.
After 14 years as a band, the memory of life prior to Dumb Waiter has faded for its members. Knowing little else, the band, perhaps to their own detriment, dives deeper and deeper into crafting brutally honest art. “I’ll do this nonsense until I die,” says an uncompromising Crider. “Over the years as a band, we’ve gone through a lot together. Ailments. Work. Celebrations. Mourning. Partying. It’s all in there. I’m proud these songs carry so much of our identity. I don’t think we could have written this without the years we’ve had together.”