By the first line of the opening track “Takedown,” I am already sad. If you, like me, are susceptible to a wistful guitar, the ones curling in by the track’s second line will be enough to sink you into a contemplative mood for the rest of the day. 

But the fun of Babe Corner’s first full-length album, the aptly named Crybaby, is that the lows are never too low. An indie rock band from Vancouver, Babe Corner is comprised of five members: Haley Blais, Lilli Carr, Alli Deleo, Jess Jones, and Lindsay Sjoberg. They describe themselves as having a “nostalgic rock vibe,” which they deliver in spades. Sjoberg’s lead vocals are pearled in a quality that feels both old and new, evoking the 1960s of Judy Collins and today’s Cate Le Bon, and the supporting multiple harmonies lend a soaring choral nostalgia to the whole affair. 

Following past singles and their EP Killer, Babe Corner continues to build on their classic sound, but on Crybaby, they explore other musical roads, and bring more vulnerability into their lyrics. There are glimpses of something new interspersed through the album, like in the rollicking “Summer Slaughter,” the galloping country-folk of “Bone Dry Dunes,” and in “Caught On The Double”, a sly, grunge-lite-lite track with thick guitar and bass riffs that are some of the most fun on the album.

Underneath the honeyed languor of the instruments and vocals, there is an unease in the lyrics. “Takedown” describes the cyclical process of two people setting each other atop pedestals and subsequently knocking the other off. In the title track “Crybaby,” Babe Corner reckons with the existence of God, and half-laments, half-scoffs, “Now I’m the kind of girl who cries.” Death settles in the dust of “Summer Slaughter” (hello, slaughter) and perches quietly in “Your Body.”

Still, on the whole, it’s the Babe Corner you know and love. Crybaby is dreamy and airborne, held aloft by swirling reverb, hooky guitar, and glowing synths sequined throughout the tracks. It feels like the dog days of summer, cooled by every window in the house thrown open to let the breeze in. 

For enjoyers of other Canadian indie artists like Peach Pit, Alvvays, and Haley Blais (great in her own solo career, and a notable non-Juno nominee), Crybaby is a pool of light, a sunny and sticky record without ever being cloying. Even in its vulnerability, you still get the overwhelming feeling that the music is propelled by a communal joy in its making, and you’re along for the ride. Everyone is welcome in Babe Corner.