Codeine – Dessau

Codeine is a band that is hard to describe with words. Their angular yet glacial and sorrowful sound was one of the first and prime inspirations for the indie rock subgenre called slowcore. Along with bands such as Bedhead, Low, Idaho, Ida, Red House Painters and other sadcore bands which made ’90s indie rock into something totally different, very intimate and infused with lyrics that can definitely make you sentimental and melancholic. Especially if you have a natural tendency for minor chords and slow and despondent, profoundly depressed and deeply personal music and poetry.

While described as slowcore, Codeine’s music has deep roots in noise rock, with frontman and lyricist Steven Immerwah’s angular and dissonant bass original compositions and tender, at times almost breakable voice. John Engle’s heavy minor-key riffs, combined with Chris Brokaw’s slow and beautiful jazzy drumming, will leave you totally exhausted.

It’s almost surprising that a trio can have such a full and compact sound. The sharp production and the lyrics, which reflect Steven’s personal battles with major depression and other private issues that can surely be relatable to many similarly built people who are dealing with mental health disorders (given the vast current mental health crisis all around the world), makes this subgenre so special and original. Codeine proved that perfectly.

After their first album, Frigid Stars (Glitterhouse, 1990), which was perfect in its despondent nature, the trio decided to record a second album and booked time at Harold Dessau Recording studio in June 1992. Unfortunately, after a few days, Steven Immerwah’s personal problems became more serious and he wasn’t functional enough to play, and the eight-track album was forgotten.

It hasn’t been released until 2022, even though some of the songs ended up on their EP Barely Real (Sub Pop, 1992) and their last album The White Birch (Sub Pop, 1994) as great reproductions of the previous recordings. The song “Realize” is a perfect example of this, with its almost suicidal yet melodically graceful sound. Producer Mike McMaking restored these sensitive and sincere songs on the 30th anniversary of the album, released by the Numero Group, which unearthed the recordings and decided to release them. The songs sound different from their versions on Realize and The White Birch, with a more expansive and icy atmosphere—the producer’s work seems very present.

You can buy different vinyl versions from Numero Group and Codeine’s official Bandcamp page. If you’re a fan of this kind of utterly crestfallen music, you won’t be disappointed. This release is a big surprise, even a gift, for slowcore fans who are yearning for more melancholy in these magnificent symphonies of despondency, these sorrowful sounds of despair, doom and the possibly insurmountable battles with depression and loneliness.