In 2020, Max Clarke, who records under the name Cut Worms, released a kind of opus. A double album steeped in detail, Nobody Lives Here Anymore listened like a thick tome, filled with stories of a bygone era. It suited the moment, when there was nothing but idle time to tuck into such a dense work and give it the attention it deserved. His third LP for Midwest indie label stalwart Jagjaguwar, self-titled as Cut Worms, is similarly suited to the moment, just a vastly different one. In just nine tracks, Clarke captures a bit of that post-pandemic levity delivered through his signature vintage lens.
A voice like Clarke’s, beautifully grainy like a favorite old, weathered photograph, is timeless and perfectly situated in the twangy doo-wop of songs like “Take It and Smile,” “I’ll Never Make It,” and “Let’s Go Out On the Town.” Equal parts Beach Boys — like on “Use Your Love! (Right Now)” and “Is It Magic?” — and some long-forgotten country crooner — “Ballad of the Texas King” — Clarke builds little worlds that listeners long to inhabit. They’re three-to-five-minute time machines that travel back to the romance of another era. It’s not all aesthetic, though. Clarke is also a master of chorus-crafting, creating stirring, momentous bursts like on album closer “Too Bad.” Unfussy compositions of drums, guitars, bass, and piano, with just a touch of strings, let his melodies really shimmer.
More than anything, Cut Worms is a showcase of some of Clarke’s best love songs to date. Where Nobody Lives Here Anymore was full of character-driven stories, Cut Worms finds him taking a simpler approach to songwriting and a softer approach to instrumentals, with arrangements as delicate as a string of dainty, twinkling lights. There’s a dreamy weightlessness to these twangy pop gems. The only thing to do is to enjoy them, not overanalyze or dissect them. Especially after a seemingly endless wave of darkness, Cut Worms stands as a reminder of the sweetness of life.
Cut Worms is out July 21 on Jagjaguwar.