Remy Zero
[#] The Golden Hum (2001)
Soars like that Clark guy.
Reviewed August 17, 2026
Best remembered for a big tune used on Smallville, The Golden Hum sees Remy succeed by distilling their dramatic UPNcore rock down to its base elements. Cinjun Tate has a fine wail and the ability to emote the sentimental, and the band wraps his vocals in sweet, swelling, grand pop rock. Lots of songs about memories, people leaving, flashes of light, wings, and being saved over a lot of ringing guitars, grindy riffs, swirling codas, and the occasional hit of sleigh bells. I'd still recommend Villa Elaine as a first hit, but this is the one that seems to work the best for people, the one I got recommended by my high school English teacher, even. When you have tunes this good, I can't much argue.
By this point, Remy were studio craftsmen, and The Golden Hum is polished to a sheen. Every crunching rocker like "Glorious #1" or the killer "Over the Rails and Hollywood High" is expertly paced with ballads that pine and sneer in equal measure ("Bitter", "Perfect Memory"). The best songs, namely the eerily anthemic "Out/In" and, yes, "Save Me", are often a goosebump-inducing mixture of the two. This isn't the most interesting Remy record; it treats "Problem" and "Fair" as the outer edges of the band's sound, ignoring the mystical psychedelia baked into Villa's DNA and the dusty textures caked onto the self-titled. Those songs are fantastic, however, so The Golden Hum sits as a welcome extra helping of red meat to anyone who thrills on their sounds.
(I do have to dock points for the mastering job, unfortunately. I expect brickwall mastering from the kind of music I listen to, but The Golden Hum has this unpleasant crispiness to it that's especially apparent when listening to the drums with headphones. A bit more breathing room and a slightly more natural EQ job would've done wonders. Of course, bands don't master their albums, generally, so I'll blame the label to be nice.)
| Essential: | "Glorious #1", "Out/In", "Over the Rails and Hollywood High" |
|---|---|
| Quintessential: | "Bitter" |
| Non-Essential: | "Sub Balloon" |
| Rating: |  |
[#] Villa Elaine (1998)
Near permanent bliss.
Reviewed January 23, 2025
There's this specific kind of very dramatic, emotive Y2K pop rock I've alternatively called "UPNcore" or "WBcore", named for these bands frequently featuring in teen dramas like Buffy, Charmed, Roswell, and of course Smallville. (None of that is pejorative, so you know.) Remy Zero is one of the premiere WBcore bands, and Villa Elaine was where they started gaining some notice for it. As much as I've grown attached to the ethereal, overly patient Remy Zero, Elaine just has a much finer point on it—stronger, catchier songs, and grander in all the right ways with still plenty of atmosphere to spare. I've heard it called "glammy" before, and that's not a bad way to put it either.
Between "Hermes Bird"'s fittingly soaring strings and bass vamps, the T-Rex riffs that power "Prophecy", "Hollow"'s haunting harmonies, and the dramatic urgency and layered lyrics about chains, flames, teeth, and chalklines that play out "Gramarye" like a seance, Elaine covers a lot of ground. It really never flags either—the penultimate chilly, jaded acoustic ballad "Fair" ("So what if you catch me?/Where would we land?") is as moving as anything they've ever come up with. There just ain't much to complain about here! I could do without some of the sillier vocals, maybe, like on "Whither Vulcan", but that's it. Nearly flawless, Villa Elaine is the sound of Remy Zero capitalizing on so much of their debut's potential, and you absolutely need to listen to it.
| Essential: | "Prophecy", "Gramarye", "Fair" |
|---|---|
| Quintessential: | "Hollow" |
| Non-Essential: | "Life in Rain" |
| Rating: |  |
[#] Remy Zero (1996)
Patiently hearing out the voices in your head.
Re-reviewed June 10, 2024, originally reviewed March 30, 2024
Sometimes, the albums I love the most are the ones I loved the least on first listen. Magnified is my go-to example, an album once so associated with me to people I knew that my characters have been drawn in its cover art, and an album I once fell asleep during in third period study hall in high school. Remy Zero's self-titled debut shares much the same position in my library, and I don't think I'm alone in that feeling. Better associated with their late-era song "Save Me" being the theme to a little show called Smallville, Remy Zero did not shift units, fans could barely buy the record because Geffen dragged their feet on distribution, and retrospective reviews have been middling. Hell, I almost wrote one of those myself—until I thought better and gave it time.
This is mid-90s noisy indie as sound exploration, an album of ether tornadoes through dusty attics, tossing family photos against the exposed insulation. The mood is low throughout, occasionally hushed ("Gold Star Speaker"), occasionally disoriented ("Chloroform Days"), and just as often exploding into pounding drums and dissonant chords ("Temenos", "Shadowcasting"). Cinjun Tate's vocals on tracks like "Twister" are truly achingly beautiful, but without hooks, the songs take a bit of effort on the listener's part to sink in, and there are no singles here to help them. This is one of my favorites this year no doubt, but despite that and some high profile fans (most notably Radiohead and Counting Crows), most people sadly won't have the patience to see Remy Zero for everything it truly is.
| Essential: | "Descent", "Twister", "Shadowcasting" |
|---|---|
| Quintessential: | "Chloroform Days" |
| Non-Essential: | "Chromosome" |
| Rating: | |