Hoops - Routines

Pitchfork 70

Hoops were born on a cassette reel. Since launching as the solo bedroom project of Drew Auscherman, the Indiana band has made the tape its preferred format. It’s the format they used to independently record and distribute their first three song collections—accurately titled Tape #1, Tape #2, and Tape #3—selling them at shows on tour and accumulating a following physically and in-person. One of these tapes caught the attention of Fat Possum Records, on which the now-four-piece group’s eponymous EP and new debut full-length, Routines, were released in quick succession.

All of this comes after the fact that Hoops’ sound recalls a time when cassettes ruled the nation. Hiss and fuzz aren’t just unavoidable variables in Hoops’ psych-pop—they’re vertebrae for the songs. That’s far from novel, but what sets Hoops apart on Routines is its proactive aversion to the trap of atmospheric overkill leading to song paralysis. If there’s one thing that Hoops lives by other than the code of the tape, it’s the will of the smooth guitar lick.

Hoops’ early releases adhered to the compact song-structure principles of lo-fi royalty Guided by Voices—get in, get the idea across, get out, get on to the next one—but the slick, sleazy vibe of ’70s radio comes to mind more often on Routines. For every moment of synths and chords swirling together in schematic agreement, there’s one of relentless motion—often featuring Auscherman’s guitar carrying the arrangement on its back and driving the song forward, like on the instrumental “Benjals.” It can be slurred or articulated, depending on what the moment requests, and often flipping back and forth.

Routines is the band’s first effort recorded in a studio instead of to a four-track. On “Burden,” there’s an appropriate reflection on the positive stress of a new environment: “It took me away from all my comfortable routines.” The versatility of core members Auscherman, Kevin Krauter, and Keagan Beresford—each of whom writes, sings, and swaps instruments—affords them chances to try on different masks, a huge strength despite some inevitable flat results. “All My Life” and “Underwater Theme,” a back-to-back package from the third tape, appear alongside each other again here. The former is dusted, polished, and with a fresh coat of paint, and the latter is at half speed and has an entirely different posture, slouching instead of squirming. While it doesn’t quite work as well, there’s great promise in the pivot itself.

“On Top” is the album’s highest flyer, and though it deals in unconditionally encouraging banalities (“Keep your head up, you’re doing fine/I know it’s hard but you’ll be alright”), it’s ultimately a pledge to the long view: “Don’t think twice when it all goes wrong/Put in time, you’ll come out on top.” Hoops’ talents are best used when serving their optimism, and anthems like this should guide them nicely moving forward.

Hoops takes its name from the hoop house, or polytunnel, which is a passive solar dome structure used for botany, something like a cheaper version of a greenhouse (and not basketball, in spite of the word’s more obvious definition in the state of Indiana). It’s also a conveniently concise symbol for how Hoops seems to operate. They’re small, protected encasements where seeds are planted and nurtured, but they have huge skyward views, and only in light do the yields thrive.