‘Science Class’ is a charming, well-crafted morsel of folk-rock songwriting that piques the listener’s interest to the end, belying its five-minute runtime.
Vevers possesses a delicate, warbling voice, which he frames with a gently picked acoustic guitar and subtly layered vocal harmonies.
Heartbeat percussion and emotive piano chords are introduced at the 1:30 mark, funnelling the folksy meander of the introduction into a more determined march.
This strongly recalls Fife troubadour King Creosote’s work with electronic musician Jon Hopkins, which is no bad thing.
The lyrics draw on a cluster of astronomy analogies to describe the rise and fall of a relationship (“I orbited you like a moon / saw the curvature of the earth”, Vevers sings, recounting his romantic pursuit).
These overblown, planetary-scale metaphors lend the song an endearingly adolescent quality, as if they’ve been surreptitiously scribbled in a ratty notepad at the back of the titular classroom.
Three minutes in, ‘Science Class’ erupts into a rousing, Arcade Fire-style torch song as the singer and his lover disappear over the edge of a black hole.
Unfortunately, the instrumentation in the final third doesn’t quite climb to a satisfying crescendo; the rhythm section struggles to cut loose as it should, and fails to match the emotional heights scaled by Vevers’ voice.
This is a minor gripe, though; one still can’t help but be pulled into Vevers’ orbit for the duration of the song.
Words: Graham Neil Gillespie