Personal Trainer - Still Willing Review
Personal Trainer offer moments of glory that aren’t sustained long enough to find greatness.
Personal Trainer are a Dutch septet hard at work in the indie-rock/pop scene. The band often prove they aren’t twittering away in a corner noiselessly adding to the well-known avalanche of mid indie tunes many in the scene like to call “indie landfill”; with a 24-hour performance at Amsterdam’s legendary pop temple Paradiso, you can’t escape their live reputation. Willem Smit, orchestrator of the band, has watched a revolving door of musicians whirl to a stop, cementing a steady line-up including Kilian Kayser (percussion), Leon Harms (drums), Mart Boumans (guitar/sax), Franti Maresova (guitar), Ruben van Weegberg (bass) and Abel Tuinstra (keys). One of the most exciting indie tracks of 2023, “Kiss Me By The Candlelight" was a collab between Personal Trainer and Pip Blom, another indie-rock band from Amsterdam fronted by Smit’s partner. The band have recently signed to label Bella Union. Everything was in good shape for an exciting, experimental LP. And yet, early fan reviews shirked irritably at the album’s success; “sadly underwhelmed”, “millennial music” and “the sound they are going for on this project is so undercooked” were some of the comments bouncing around Album of the Year.
At first, these comments seem like misfired debasement. “Upper Ferntree Guilty”, the eight-minute opening track, races through different genres – think electro-rock guitar breakdown, middle 8 with a glorious clapping motif, and some folk influence thrown in there below Jeff-Buckley-esque distortion on the vocals. It’s triumphant. But that’s the problem. Everything that follows is cast in its shadow.
Second track “I can be your personal trainer” sounds oddly misplaced, like it belongs on the back end of a Toy Story soundtrack, followed by “Cyan”, an optimistic breezy indie-pop tune, with grateful brass and a duet approach to vocals. Despite all of this going on, it’s a little misshapen and empty. “Round” has a lovely, and aptly, circular chorus, like a mix between country and light punk-rock. “There’s a new bad feeling” has a lovely call and response and intersperses contrapuntal melodies at the end of the track that feel a little hair-brained to fully get on board with.
Following this with “Intangible”, the band are back on top for a moment. There are so many layers here, a dramatic bass drilling a funky dance tune that seems to be an early favourite on Spotify. We suddenly hear a little Coldplay on “Testing the alarm”, which indicates a decent level of versatility that feels confused after a happy-go-lucky piano off-puts the mercurial guitar. In attempt to be anthemic, the track insists on getting faster, and the listener is left to sniff in the dust. For a fast fun-fuelled track that is more rewarding to get behind, try “You Better Start Scrubbing”.
Finishing with a shoe gaze inspired track is a decent bet, with romantic guitars, Bombay Bicycle Club style synth usage, and tinkles of strings and piano before we crash onto a moody hillside, dark and guttural guitars ripping open the wound the album’s general pop-optimism has attempted to heal. It’s a clever dance between good and bad, but one that need hastily first distinguish between right and left feet to stave off one too many duddy steps.
Still willing to listen now? Willem Smit has garnered more attention for projects in the past, like 2022 LP Big Love Blanket. This LP is a sweet addition to their discography, sure, but it peaks too soon and is left scrambling softly in the wake. The album confidently tries on plenty different sounds, but falls short at greatness so the oven splutters dejectedly or, as the anonymous fan online might say, it’s a little “undercooked”. It doesn’t capture the impressiveness of their live reputation, sure, but there are worse places to be in. I’ll be hooked into whatever comes next, even if this doesn’t quite fill the plate for me.