Los Angeles Synth-Pop Outfit Male Tears Releases Self-Titled Debut Album on Vinyl for the First Time

I’ve been swimming in an ocean of tears

I went swimming in all of my fears

And every day is like a burning question

I never thought that I would become your weapon

For the first time, Los Angeles synthpop outfit Male Tears’ remarkable 2021 self-titled debut album finds its way to vinyl, a tangible ode to its fizzy, neon-steeped, Memphis-design pop lo-fi charm. While their EP Trauma Club and sophomore album Krypt took a decisive turn further into darkwave territory, the band’s third effort, Paradiso, soared back into the bright and colorful synth-pop realm. For listeners accustomed to the sleek polish and darker beats of their more goth-driven records, this re-release of the self-titled debut brims with nostalgia, a playful nod to European synth-pop, Italo-disco, and new wave’s golden era. It’s as snug and bright as a purple Popple, yet beneath the saccharine melodies and peppy tempos lies a sardonic streak that cuts sharp as a sly grin.

Originally unleashed during the tumultuous year of 2020, Male Tears’ self-titled LP is a pandemic fever dream that combines heartbreak, cynicism, and neon synths into a potent statement. James Edward of Male Tears reflects on the creation of his debut album:

“The summer of 2020, right in the middle of the pandemic, brought with it some of the most distressing times of my life. During that period, the sound of Male Tears truly crystallized. What was meant to be a clean-cut, no-nonsense love letter to 1980s pop music mutated into something darker—a twisted vision of new wave sounds left to rot in some abandoned video store. The themes of the album range from love and loss to the dissolution of self-image and substance abuse. By mid-2021, the record began to find unexpected admiration from the gothic subculture, which helped propel me into mild notoriety in the scene.”

Male Tear’s self-titled debut album dances with a deliberate sweetness, masking its bite with shimmering synths and bouncy beats. It recalls the likes of Diamond Field, Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark, Dead or Alive, Kissing the Pink, early Depeche Mode, Talk Talk, and Roxy Music, where earnestness and irony meld seamlessly. The warmth of this lo-fi gem invites a closer listen, its fuzzy exterior hiding the whip-smart wit at its core. A love letter to a bygone sound, Male Tears pulses with personality.

The album opener, Chained Up delves into the ache of unbalanced love, where hope clings despite the absence of reciprocation. Sincerity and genuine connection take center stage, rejecting falsehoods while grappling with the sting of one-sided affection. Its singsong synths and crooning lead evoke a sound straight from an alternate timeline, where the 80s reimagined the 60s—a wistful echo of Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark’s finest moments.

Let’s Pretend dances through the language of love, from friendship to romance, grasping at any thread that could bind two hearts together. A chipper beat and bell-like synths create a playful ode to a relationship that’s more than just puppy love. Hushed vocals wrap the song in a warmth that’s difficult to deny, evoking the tender uncertainty of youthful infatuation.

Good In The Dark swells with a yearning that edges dangerously close to fear, balancing the desire to be seen against the dread of rejection. The vocals plead, their emotion cutting through swirling harmonies and a seductive backbeat. Each note captures the strain between intimacy and distance, where fleeting moments of connection ignite dreams, only to leave behind the bitter trace of unfulfilled desires and fragile resolve.

Awash in shimmering notes and slow pulses, Creep Distance hushes the heady hum of the record, sliding into a subdued stance that stirs slight tremors of trust and tension. The piece, reminiscent of later Simple Minds, slyly references The Police while trembling with frayed feelings. Each line lingers with an undercurrent of ache, illustrating the lonely hush of self-awareness and the panic of possible heartbreak. We hear every pining plea. In the end, the message remains unmistakable, reverberating with raw insistence: keep your distance, for the soul stands on uncertain soil and fragility.

Human Errorz wrestles with a deeper disquiet, its weight carried by faltering hearts and flashes of uncertainty. Longing battles with the inability to hold closeness, sharpening the ache and amplifying the sense of helplessness. Each refrain circles back to hesitation, exposing a raw struggle against the barriers that separate and the inner doubts that persist. The tension builds, marked by a sense of unresolved conflict, as if the song itself stands suspended between action and retreat, always yearning but never fully reaching.

Future X hums with the smooth swagger of Bryan Ferry entangled with the electric pulse of Dead Or Alive. Its buoyant beat and sleek vocals carry a desperate yearning for release, a plea to escape the weight of old regrets and the voices that refuse to fade. The song’s hook lingers, echoing the restless drive to move forward, to leave behind the past’s clutches and grasp for renewal.

Adult Film dives into the flickering glow of obsession, where desire twists through the cold gaze of a screen. Love dissolves into fantasy, unattainable and distant. Orchestral stabs pierce through zippy arpeggios, undulating like lust’s relentless tide, evoking the boldest moments of Soft Cell and Depeche Mode. The hunger repeats—insistent and insatiable—a portrait of a one-sided romance that thrives on yearning yet starves for connection. Here, longing feels electric but hollow, a lurid connection imagined but never real, bound forever to flickering light.

She Lives In The Pipes conjures an eerie descent into obsession, where the search for an elusive presence spirals into a feverish pursuit. Haunting sounds ripple through the walls, the unease creeping like a shadow at the edge of perception. The refrain reverberates with unsettling persistence, pulling the listener deeper into the blurred boundary between reality and delusion. Each step of the investigation is driven by desperation and intrigue, the relentless hunt unfolding like a mystery half-forgotten. Echoes of Martin Dupont thread through its unsettling tones, adding to its strange allure.

I Should Feel How I Feel dives into the aching void left by abandonment, grappling with emotional detachment and unresolved anger. The repeated refrain underscores the numbness, as sleep becomes a refuge from unprocessed pain. Plaintive vocals float over stabbing synths, while unexpected panflute elements bring a peculiar brightness, echoing the quirky spirit of a lost Sparks track. It’s a portrait of inner turmoil, detachment, and the futile yearning to untangle fractured emotions.

Take My Picture whirls the attention toward self-worth, hitching it to the hunger for applause and acceptance. Softness seeps through as the chorus begs for notice, fusing gentle vulnerability with a confident edge. Hints of Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark wend their way through this piece, joining personal reflection with a catchy undercurrent, echoing the effort to be seen in a world that rushes past. The arrangement highlights the friction between private insecurities and outward longing, giving the track an energetic polish that lifts its lyrical plea.

Then arrives Embrace Death, a sophisti-pop ballad worthy of ABC and saturated in emotional delicacy, confronting the trembling heart that both craves devotion and courts self-destruction. Each repeated line underscores the hesitance to reignite lost flames, weighed down by regret and the weariness that follows a turbulent past. The vocals hold a quiet tension, torn between the ache for closeness and the knowledge that such closeness may deepen old wounds. Through it all, the song stands as a memorial to human fragility, acknowledging the cost of love when pain persists, yet bravely whispering those unspoken innermost truths.

A bubblegum popping pink-hued keystone in the ongoing darkwave renaissance, Male Tears’ self-titled debut deftly channels the shivering ghosts of ‘80s new-wave—shifting from neon effervescence to shadowy melancholia with a camp-laced fervor that feels both retro-futurist and startlingly alive.

Male Tears’ fourth studio album is on the way after a recently announced signing to Artoffact Records, but now you can get their debut album on vinyl for the first time, on gorgeous new-wave hot pink, via Disco Darks.

Listen to Male Tears below and grab your copy of the album on vinyl here.

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