Album Review: Engineers by Vir (2012)
Vir’s Engineers is one of those albums that sneaks up on you. Released in 2012 under the Not On Label banner, it’s a swirling mix of rock, pop/rock, and experimental sounds with strong shoegaze and psychedelic rock vibes. It doesn’t shout for attention—it kind of whispers, then pulls you into its weird, hypnotic world. And once you’re in, it’s hard to leave.
The album opens with "New Loop," and honestly, it’s a track that sticks. The song feels like being wrapped in layers of sound—guitars shimmer, drums thud softly, and there’s this almost meditative quality to it. It’s not flashy, but that’s what makes it memorable. You don’t realize how deep you’re in until the track fades out, leaving you wanting more. It’s moody but approachable, like a rainy day you didn’t know you needed.
Then there’s "Mojave," which hits different. With Natasha Arens’ trumpet adding an unexpected jolt of brass, this track feels cinematic, like you’re walking through a desert at sunset. The textures are rich without being overwhelming, and the pacing gives you space to breathe. Shoegaze often gets labeled as “too ethereal” or “detached,” but "Mojave" proves otherwise. It’s grounded yet dreamy, a balancing act few pull off well.
Credit where it’s due—the production team nailed it. Adam Myatt and Sam Sloane handled the engineering and recording, while Shawn Hatfield mastered the whole thing. You can tell they took their time; every layer feels intentional. Even the cover art by Sam Sloane matches the vibe—minimalist but striking, just like the music inside.
What really stands out about Engineers is how collaborative it feels. Performers like Jeff Paul, Natasha Arens, and Marit Knutson bring their own flavors to the mix. Arens’ trumpet on "Mojave" and Marit Knutson’s violin on "Engineers" add these tiny, beautiful details that make the album feel alive.
If I had to nitpick, some tracks blend together a bit too seamlessly. But maybe that’s the point—this isn’t an album you listen to for singles; it’s an experience. By the time you hit "Joy In Space," you’re fully immersed in Vir’s sonic universe.
In the end, Engineers feels less like a traditional album and more like a journey through someone’s head. It’s not perfect, but it doesn’t need to be. Listening to it reminds me of staring at a kaleidoscope—chaotic, colorful, and oddly comforting. Honestly, I didn’t expect to enjoy it this much. Guess that’s what happens when you let yourself get lost in the noise.
Rating: 8/10
Word count: ~400
