I’m not sure quite how Christopher Noyes and his band of collaborators manage to pull it off, but I’m always intrigued by how easily Adjy’s songs see the blissful innocence of coming-of-age mixed with the grandeur of metaphysical ponderings. While I’ve tended to notice the latter first, I’ve grown into seeing the beauty of a sort of whimsical late-childhood tale that feels so unlike my own – and longing, even now, that a summer like that might come around.

June Songs Vol 1 is a departure from the larger story of The Idyll Opus, but even the guise of it being a fun, more commercial type work does not keep it from being intricately-layered, emotionally invested, and musically complex. As a whole, these five songs are woven incredibly closely – first, to themselves, and secondly, the greater Adjy discography. They take place within the same world and are meant to serve as the sort of songs June (one of the protagonists from The Idyll Opus) would have played with his band. In a Patreon Q&A, one supporter had asked a question about exactly when the events take place within the story, given there are references in the lyrics to specific times and locations. Noyes mentioned the protagonists were temporally-confused, and the chronology of events in these songs only seems to affirm this. Arguably, it’s not incredibly surprising for a band whose lyrics are fixated heavily on the concept of time, recurrence, and decay. And while numerology is a central part to Adjy’s music, both overtly and structurally, the main theme in these songs is around 7, rather than the standard 3, 6, and 9. This is an important distinction because it gives us a micro-story within the framework of the larger narrative.

The Music

Each of the five tracks has its own personality. As a whole, there’s a greater sense of 00s rock and pop, with equal pieces of folk, “mall emo”, pop punk, and alternative rock. There’s banjo aplenty, rest assured, and it carries many of the motifs from The Idyll Opus over. The drums are certainly a primary instrument from the get go, and “Stepping in the Same River Twice” is even mixed such that percussion and vocals are the most prominent elements. The energy as a whole is close to that of Prelude (.3333) in some respects, opting for a more traditional rock energy approach, lyrical splices that verge on almost traditional choruses, even a bit of other instrumentation mixed in beyond the core.

“Stepping in the Same River Twice” kicks things off, and it’s a dense track of ever-shifting drum grooves, simple-yet-powerful guitar, and excellent vocal melodies. It feels a bit like “Praeposito” in some sense, and it’s nice to see drums return in this particular manner after employing a slightly different approach on the full-length.

“June Song” isn’t entirely new as the group have had it in their live set, but it’s definitely nice to hear it fleshed out with full production nuance. It’d work well as a single if one were to exist, though it’s not even my favorite song of the bunch. The track combines a folky banjo intro with reverb-drenched guitar for a semi-country vibe. And while the drums follow in a steady pulse at first, they eventually burst into full fury. There’s even a MIDI layer as well, and while it might sound a little odd at first, it really brings to mind the context of a band playing live with backing tracks. Much like “O Tonight”, each chorus is a bit different, and the rhythmic end of this song is critical toward the constant shifts in sound and the consequent tension at play.

“Here Here” is a particularly interesting track – I’ll run through the lyrics later on, but as a preface, the song plays quite a bit with the idea of similar-but-different. There’s a throwback to “Cicada Song”, among others, in terms of main melody. It’s definitely a more retrained song, perhaps the most traditional and commercial in some sense, though this certainly isn’t meant to be construed as negative.

“Idioglossia” is a bit of an oddity, but it’s certainly a sleeper hit to behold. Banjo, upright bass, and oft-layered vocals form the primary foundation of the track. When drums do kick in, they’re mostly stick-clicks and more subtle elements. It’s not quite a ballad, but it is ultimately a softer and simpler track in some respects. Even so, Adjy prove that compositions are greater than the sum of their parts. The lyrics speak specifically toward not being able to escape certain patterns, and the looping nature plays well into these sentiments. The ending includes some sort of wind-based instrument, perhaps a flute or bagpipes, and it’s a strong addition to the mix.

Closing out the collection sits “One 4th of July”, a gang-vocal-heavy track that shifts between fast-and-furious verses and a more subdued chorus. Bass and drums are in full force as to be expected. It’s definitely one of the fastest tracks in Adjy’s discography, and it’s full of life and hope. Beyond the gang vocals, there are a couple other spots where vocals are layered more ornamentally, and it definitely pays off. Horns come in toward the end and add in just enough spice to make the ending truly emotional. The track is bookended by the sound of fireworks, befitting its title. Ultimately, it’s a strong closer – though really any of these songs could work in this respect.

The Lyrics

While I easily spent almost an entire day trying to parse through everything in The Idyll Opus thus far, I’m thankful to say that these tracks find a good balance between still showing the wordier, philosophical angle of the band and the more accessible side of most music in this specific niche. That’s not to say I don’t find trying to decipher the lyrics and find all the connections rewarding, mind you, but there is certainly less to unravel here as a listener as a whole.

That said, the lyrics continue to fascinate me. It’s amazing how Noyes makes use of time and space (the former being unclear in terms of how it relates to the larger story, given both releases mention specific years and dates) to frame specific events in such a way that the audience can see clear outlines of ideas. The individual details, however, are still hazy, wrapped behind continuous references to time, repetition, summer weeds, and any number of scientific and historical references. Even though the density of these elements isn’t quite as intense, it’s very much still Adjy.

Take, for instance, “Stepping Twice in the Same River”, a track that speaks to time itself changing and shifting in its linearity, leveraging the following Heraclitus quote as its dynamic center:

No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.

The river in question is the Ocoee, and it makes its appearance several times throughout the EP. Interestingly, though perhaps not tied directly, Ocoee is also a city in Florida near the area some of the band’s members were raised. The lyrics are timestamped with specific years and Ocoee is not directly mentioned prior to the band’s relocation, but the double-entendre nature of it seems both on brand for Noyes’ general approach to songwriting, as well as the track’s focus on patterns repeating. Even these seven-year cycles are a glimpses into repetitions of much grander patterns, all conveyed through the intermittent biblical references and personal anecdote of what remains after a house burns down.

“June Song” is even more dense in its time references, describing the situation as “mandalic” – a reference that ties back to Mount Meru on The Idyll Opus, while primarily conveying the idea of a spiritual pilgrimage from the outside inward. Given the song’s chorus prominently speaks of a “race to the center of life”, it’s a fitting analogy. Elsewhere, Noyes mentions the Lorenz Attractor, though just hearing it in passing might have you mistake it for a more common phrase. In short, it’s a scientific model concerning systems bound in indeterminate states and chaos, never reaching equilibrium. The visual of this model involves two overlapping ovals that appear to form butterfly wings, and it’s even the origin for the concept of “the butterfly effect.” Toward the end, the use of “I see it all…” is a clear call-out to “In the Space Between Pages…”. It’s not entirely clear again where these songs fall in the overall timeline, so while it might be safe to consider that the words are addressed toward July, there’s certainly room for other possibilities.

“Here Here” sits in the middle, and it once again walks through seven-year cycles, time at the Ocoee, and how some things and change and others don’t. The main metaphor is a weed – and how it’s an echo of the one that came before it. While there’s the very physical lens of it literally being a similar-yet-distinct version of something familiar, there’s a deeper level of it – “what seeds really are always bears out in time.” Friendships, romance, brotherhood, betrayal, and deception might all develop from a similar place initially. And of course, there’s the analogy of the wheat and the tares, where even for a while the two are indistinguishable. On a surface level, the line between fact and fiction remains blurry as usually, though there’s again another reference to 2015 to “the the thing that started this writing in this hallowed apartment”, a reference that does seem to bypass the world of The Idyll Opus and point toward its actual inspiration and construction.

It’s also one of the most sentimental and retrospective tracks, dwelling on tension (and homonyms like attention) between what was and what is – and perhaps what might one day be again. Lyrics revolve around the simple scenes of an apartment, the changing social structures within the area, and even the youthful innocence of a rope swing on an island.

“Idioglossia” might require a dictionary before even pressing into the lyrics themselves. The term itself often describes a language spoken by only one or two people, sometimes even related to twins (though there is a specific separate term for this as well). Even this is multi-layered. Adjy has never been shy to discuss the difficulties of communication and the important of intent as it relates toward messaging. To one degree, the title could simply be understood as an extension of this: that even the purest, defined message will still be distorted by its hearer. The twin component is perhaps less unlikely, though it could be potentially seen as the shared understanding between June and July. On a literary level, “Finnegans Wake” is a prime example of idioglossia and its last sentence circulates back to its first, giving it an uncanny connection to the EP. This doesn’t seem like an incredible stretch, though, given the song’s key phrase “Killing Abel never made God proud” and the book’s use of the twins Shem and Shaun who are compared to Cain and Abel throughout the work. None of this is clearly spelled out, and I’ve frankly only uncovered much of this while researching the term, so any additional particular references beyond this are lost on me at this moment.

“Cynocephalous” is another word that’s not in most folks’ vocabulary, and the greater context of it seems to be an allusion of Saint Christopher – surely not coincidental to say the least. This analogy further plays into the lines concerning crossing the river only a moment later. There are numerous other references at play, such as the white stone which has been a recurring theme in the Adjy discography, but suffice to say this is a song that is bound to challenge your vocabulary and knowledge of history and literature.

“One 4th of July” is, as to be expected, another lyrically-dense track: from rattling off the roman numerals for 1776 to talking about pinions to wrestling with the biblical prophecy and golden calves, there’s a lot at play. Much like “Eve Beneath the Maple Tree”, Noyes cleverly hides allusions to American idolatry under the guise of grilling food and watching fireworks. That’s not everything to behold, of course, but suffice to say it’s not exactly subtle. Here, there are pinings to find a place to belong in a way that transcends the visible and immediate.

As a whole, there are a lot of nuances in the lyrics that still leave plenty of room for investigation. Many phrases end on cliffhangers, like “June Song” which concludes mid-sentence. This ultimately reinforces the meta-narrative of things being cyclic and repeating, and even the songs themselves overlap thematically in that it can be hard to mentally distinguish one from another, solely regarding lyrical subject matter. In its simplest shape, it’s a tale of looking back and learning to move forward. It’s sentimental and summery, mostly upbeat, confident. But on a deeper level, it’s once again a philosophical and spiritual musing of time, repeating historical patterns, and archetypes.

Conclusion

June Songs Vol 1 showcases the best of Adjy in a more compact package. These tracks each stand out in their own way, and making any sort of ranking is difficult. “Idioglossia” shimmers in its more acoustic, folky approach. “June Song” is single-friendly, bombastic, and incredibly catchy. “One 4th of July” showcases the band’s use of gang vocals and complex arrangements. And lyrically, there’s still plenty to plunder as well, though the focus on one specific character certainly does simplify things a bit in this respect. Either way, these songs continue with the same strange mix of deeply-personal-yet-stunningly-academic approach Adjy seems to have mastered. I’ve found myself reflecting on my own seven-year cycles and realizing just how much has changed since 2008. And while the songs definitely lean toward perhaps a more commercial rock direction, there’s no denying the DNA within these rhythmically-driven arrangements. Even in their break from their larger project, Noyes and friends prove that there’s a special place for pensive and intelligent art-rock.

You can pre-order the EP on Bandcamp here, become a patron, or visit their official merch store for cassettes and other items.