THE EDITED PRESS RELEASE: “Formed in Boston in 1993 by Geoff Farina, Eamonn Vitt and Gavin McCarthy, Karate added Jeff Goddard on bass in 1995. The band released six studio albums, two EPs, numerous singles and split 7”s between 1994 and 2005. From punk roots, the band ventured widely, veering into jazz-rock, post-rock and a unique version of slowcore in its progressive indie experimentation. Vitt left for med school in 97 and Farina called it quits in 2005 because of hearing issues.
Something happened in the meantime. The band’s albums on Southern Records went out of print. And the label’s founder John Loder passed in 2005, complicating things. In 2020, a Chicago Reader article noticed Karate’s albums were fetching rare vinyl prices online. Long-time fans at Numero Group stepped in and offered to help the band get their albums back — literally sending a van to the North of England to pick up their master tapes.
Karate reunited in 2022 to support the re-release of its music on Numero Group. Time Expired, a five-LP set, focused on the trio’s later albums and EPs. The Complete Studio Recordings released in 2023, gathered all six studio albums, singles, and compilation tracks in a deluxe CD set. While a box set might be a nice way to tie a bow on a band story and move on, the men in Karate discovered they had more to say. So now they’re back with Make It Fit, their first new studio record since 2004’s Pockets.
Things have changed since 2004, however. Now living thousands of miles apart, Farina, Goddard and McCarthy couldn’t hop down the street to their practice space and patiently hammer improvisations into shape as songs. Karate’s members are distributed around the globe — Farina lives in Chicago, McCarthy remains in Boston and Goddard lives in Belgium. The band had to write and rehearse Make It Fit remotely with intermittent meets. Members hashed out parts in their individual home studios, digitally sharing ideas for Farina’s songs and meeting periodically to rehearse them, not always as a trio. That created some surprises — the first time Farina heard one fabulous Goddard bassline was when the band convened in Iceland to play shows.
While Karate’s reunion tours have been remarkably smooth, making an album presented some challenges. By the time the group arrived in Nashville in January to track with longtime collaborator Andy Hong, the trio had demoed the songs a few times and felt confident. That initial optimism was dampened, and anxiety amplified when the trio remembered a detail: Hong was still building his studio. Much of his gear was packed in shrink-wrap. He’d need time to get the studio up and running. And Karate’s members had a day to stress and wonder if they’d hit a concrete barrier on reunion road. “Why don’t we ever record in a fancy studio where everything is ready to go when we arrive, and we have two weeks to record 10 songs? We don’t seem to ever do that,” Farina notes. “That would be too easy,” replies McCarthy, “Plus Andy works at a higher level. This is normal to him.”
The band kept its faith in Hong. In 24 hours, he had completely wired the new studio, and the four soon fell into a familiar and comfortable routine they had practiced on their better-known records. Karate completed basic tracks in Nashville. Farina added guitars and vocals back at his home studio and the Experimental Sound Studio in Chicago. And Hong mixed the album.
Make It Fit, the band’s first album in 20 years, crams 35 minutes of Wes Montgomery homage, Fugazi dub plate party rocking, Phil Lynott lyricism, and Clash city crooning into a graceful seventh LP. But it doesn’t try to recapture a youthful, DIY-era magic. Instead, it picks up where Karate’s three musicians are today: With a deeper skillset, adult angst cut through with moments of joy, punctuated with searing performances. Still, it has a familiar signature. Fans will recognize the trio’s ability to trap and release tension in swelling rhythms. Farina’s crafted flowing guitar work counterbalances his caustic lyrics. Hong’s dry, wide-open production gives the instrumentalist’s personalities room to shine, but nowhere to hide. As always, their parts are carefully considered and precisely executed. McCarthy says making the record “stretched” his abilities.
But one can also hear how time has wizened the composers. The songs on Make it Fit know where they are going. Five of its concise, jazzy, punky tracks come in around 2:30. Farina spent time in the intervening years listening to American roots rock, jazz, and blues and he’s not shy about deploying his own takes here.
Farina calls Cannibals, which counterbalances social critique with roots-savvy riffs, “emblematic” of the entire album. In its verses, one can hear it as a statement of discontent about where our culture is at today. It’s not obvious who exactly Farina has set his sites on in the uptempo cut. It’s widely applicable in a moment in which truth and shame are in short supply. It reminds us that our discourse is dominated by loud, unserious voices. The lyrics sum up what’s missing: “Remember candor and compassion? Today anomie is the trend, and folly is the fashion.” In its verses, Farina — en route to a show — seems to question a zealot “waving a brochure” who he can’t take seriously, and he takes note of those who excuse their indiscretions with their horoscope. The singer targets those “making vague threats” with “no irony in your gasconade” (it means bluster, FYI). Despite the indictments (of politicians? Musicians?) as inhumane and symptoms of social breakdown, Cannibals strikes a hopeful note, somewhat miraculously connecting adult Karate with the idealism of hardcore, realized from a new vantage point.
In contrast to the tightly structured Cannibals, Liminal stretches out. Goddard and McCarthy open vast space for Farina’s guitar to dazzle with wandering jazz-rock chords. Lyrically, Farina explores a frustrating divide between a love that “leads” and one that “bleeds.” It’s a sorrowful epic, left unresolved as the singer hits the highway. Both Cannibals and Liminal exhibit the band’s careful craft, as well as its fervor.
Make It Fit is the opposite of a cynical cash-in. It’s daring, requiring a full commitment from band and audience. And Karate’s reunion is soaking in gratitude. This time around, Farina says he appreciates it all more. “I appreciate that I’m playing a show. I used to get up on stage and be annoyed at this and be annoyed at that. Now I get up on stage and feel incredibly lucky. Just being able to do it again is so much fun. Just hearing us together on stage feels so right.”
