Some special music in 2020, vol. 4

04:40

 As 2020 is nearing an end, it is time to review the albums I have vibed with the most this year. I had made a point and a resolution to keep in touch with music in the scene, as I am sure I have said before. I now find myself with too many albums to make a definitive list, but many things to talk about.
This is not a top anything. There is an album of the year, but that's about it. There are a lot of albums I really, really liked. Some I have novels' worth of content to talk about, some about which my feelings fit in a few lines. There is a little bit of everything.

Throughout the garbage fire that was 2020, I found myself drawn to positive albums. As I discuss somewhere in there, I believe positivity, especially in music, is a double-edged sword, because it's ever so easy to fall deep into the toxic positivity, "I am so disconnected from life so I will be telling you how wonderful life is, even though I know nothing about struggles" vibe. I found the sun, hope, and comfort I needed in albums that dissected feelings, explored the ups and the downs, in honesty, and in company. Strangely enough, despite seeing so many of my favourite heavy bands releasing music, I have not listened to -core bands as religiously and regularly as I usually do. But it's winter, accidental heavy metal season in my world, so, don't worry, I shall be finding my way back to screaming and breakdowns soon. Maybe I'll rediscover hidden gems. I am not purposely ignoring anything or anyone.


THE DEATH OF ME
(Polaris, released February 21st)

I have become picky with my heavy music, and I think it stems down from years of disappointing shows and albums I cannot relate to anymore. When I listen to heavy music, metalcore, deathcore, hardcore, whatever, I want to be blown away, I want to be stopped in my tracks and think well, this is one hell of an album.
I also tend to find most of my favourite heavy bands live, and Polaris was no exception. The first time I saw them was supporting Architects in Sweden, and, as the tour went on, I found myself more and more excited to see them play. In no time, in a click of the fingers, in the blink of an eye, their music has become important to me, and as soon as the state of my brain dips down into the uncertainty and the dark, it's the signal that I have to play Crooked Path on a loop until it gets better. This song has quickly become the musical version of emotional support.
Obviously, I was madly excited at the idea of them releasing a new album this year. I think one of the main reasons why I find it hard to relate to heavy albums is that I feel like some of the bands making them do not want to be making those songs and those albums. I don't know if they realise how easy it is for listeners to hear that the band on the other side of the microphone, the guitar, et al, would rather have their eyes scooped out of their sockets with a rusty teaspoon.
We can tell.
There is nothing like that at all with Polaris, there has never been, and I pray to God there will never be. The Death Of Me is the album of a band that is confident in their sound and who they are as a band. They have some of the most incredible vocals and don't overdo the split between clean vocals and harsher vocals. It never appears like their music sticks to a pre-made formula or something they should adhere to. It all feels very organic and natural, and, as a result, genuine. I couldn't be further away from being a musician, but Polaris also has some of the best guitar work I have ever heard. I love a good, strong, technical riff, as long as you don't try to revive the six-hour guitar solo à la Iron Maiden. I just love heavy music that isn't heavy for the sake of being heavy.
Metalcore has been through many trends and phases, often dictated by the bands who make it big, and all the bands that follow in their exact footsteps in the hopes of making it big too. Metalcore is a constant rotation of tropes and clichés, of keyboards, of breakdowns, of signature sounds, of music videos filmed in decaying warehouses or in forests, of aesthetics, fonts, everything. Metalcore somehow feels a lot more codified than other genres, and I love that Polaris is above it all. They are heavy, ridiculously so. They have screams and clean vocals. They tick all the metalcore boxes, but in a way that feels a lot more genuine than most bands, sometimes more experienced than them. Polaris is, right now, one of the very few truly exciting heavy bands. I wanted to find a better way to conclude this than "Fuck, I love them," but, fuck this. I fucking love Polaris, and The Death Of Me is gnarly perfection.
(PS - Anyone want to talk about their recent triple j Like A Version cover? I don't know what a Black Fingernails, Red Wine is, but I have no doubt Polaris made it 100% better than the original. I think my brain exploded when I first listened to it.)



NO GOOD LEFT TO GIVE
(Movements, released September 18th)


Movements have been a quiet storm in the scene. No one knew who they were, and then, they released Feel Something and, suddenly, they were everywhere. Feel Something stole the hearts of a whole host of people in the scene, mine very much included, and it had been a while since a song became as huge a general favourite as Daylily, now an almost classic. There obviously were a lot of expectations for the band's sophomore record, No Good Left To Give, and they were made supremely high because we all collectively decided that Feel Something was perfect. (It is.) 
It took me a while to fall head over heels in love with Feel Something. Not that it isn't beautiful in every way and one of my favourites, but I feel like I needed to be in the right frame of mind for it. I believe that, somewhere along the way, and maybe just in my universe, Movements are the kind of band I need a specific mindset for, and this is the only reason why I will call No Good Left To Give a grower. I know it will grow on me, I know it will find its place in my puzzle, but when it's the right time.
For all the bits I can appreciate and love already, it feels like the next natural step for Movements. I don't like the idea of it being an improvement, or a step up, because it's hard to put anything above something you love as much as I love Feel Something. With No Good Left To Give, I love how the band has pushed their craft even further. For starters, and even though this falls into the "grower" category, the songwriting is absolutely flawless, personal, poetic, and relatable, but I didn't expect any less from them. It isn't a surprise, but I am impressed nonetheless. Sound-wise, it feels a little darker than their debut, but maybe that's just me. In a world where artists are expected to produce content and art constantly if they want to stay relevant, I love that Movements have not given in to the pression and taken all the time they needed to make a second album. This is how we got something as wonderful as No Good Left To Give.
These are a bunch of first impressions and feelings, and they're largely, completely, one hundred percent positive. I think I'll become a little more articulate when the time is right.



SELF CARE
(Yours Truly, released September 18th)


It's crazy how a single song can change the game of how you feel about a band.
When it comes to Yours Truly, that song was Undersize. It appeared sometime this summer, and I listened to it, just like I had the previous singles for their upcoming debut record, Self Care, and it blew my mind. After I heard it for the first time, I had to pause and think, as if this wasn't real, and it couldn't be this good.
Well, it is. It's this good, and it moved Yours Truly away from the list of "bands I like" to the one composed of "bands I am completely excited about."
This was the state of mind I was in before I listened to Self Care for the first time, and the album delivered all the things I never knew I wanted it to deliver. There is such a nostalgic vibe in the sound, and it pleased me so much. It tugged at all the heartstrings that are deeply attached to pop-punk bands from the early-to-mid-noughties and told me that a sound like this without seeming utterly outdated was possible. There are two schools of bands with more classic pop-punk influences. There are the ones who just try hard to be their band of choice, and the end result ranges from has-already-been twenty years ago to genuinely uncomfortable. And there are the ones who sprinkle the influences in their music without overdoing it, without drowning the whole thing with screams of "We wanted to be (insert favourite band) when we were kids and this is our chance." Yours Truly are very much in the second category, and this is coming from someone who has no idea who they actually are inspired by. But all throughout Self Care, what I mostly thought was "Oh, this has a bit of a New Found Glory vibe" or "this sounds nostalgic," and I loved every minute of it.
Undersize, right in the middle of the album, is the soft break of the album without falling into the "hey, we have to have a slow song on the record, so, this is it, I guess" cliché. It's stripped-down and is original and lovely all at once. The intro is enough to put a smile on my face, and don't get me started on the music video. (There is a dog in it.) 
I don't want to make all the silly puns about an album being called Self Care and feeling like self-care, but it really does. I feel like the lyrics explore all the facets and sides of self-care. There is anger, there are moments when you want to wrap yourself in a protective cocoon, there is self-confidence, there are moments of exploring conflicting feelings, of wondering if you are doing the right thing, being in the right place, because self-care also means analysing where you are and what you have. 
All in all, Self Care is a smashing debut album. It's the best possible way a band so young could show the world how talented they are, how they have it all. It puts Yours Truly on the map, and it brings a new, exciting voice to the table. Right now, the world is their oyster, and it's going to be so exciting to watch them grow. 
(PS- The artwork is also my favourite of the year, because, obviously, embroidery, and it's so lovely and poetic.)



NEW WAYS OF LIVING
(The Winter Passing, released July 3rd)

Do you ever think of things someone has told you, and you turn them around and around in your brain, but not in a negative way particularly, just as a souvenir, something someone left you? 
About four years ago, I had an...eventful night in a club in Brighton, that ended up with my workmates of the time walking me home and me sobbing on the couch about anxiety and many other things I don't remember because I had ingested a minimum of nine Jägerbombs. The part I will never forget is my old workmate telling me that maybe I wouldn't have so much anxiety if I listened to things that weren't blink-182 or Jimmy Eat World. I don't remember the context, but that sentence has been stuck with me, somewhere. It makes me laugh, and even though we don't talk anymore, I don't resent him for saying something so misguided. I'll give him that - I don't have the happiest music taste of all. Though the vast majority of my favourite bands bring me joy and comfort, I'll admit that a lot of the songs I listen to deal with heavy, complicated, and downright heartbreaking subjects.
In The Winter Passing's New Ways Of Living, in the song Mind Yourself, there is a line that goes "I'm always wasting time worrying about wasting time." It's the kind of line that makes me stop and think every time I hear it. It's the kind of line that hits home, especially at my age, especially when you have existential crisis after existential crisis, especially when you don't know what you're doing or where you're going. I could choose to let it bring me down, yet another proof that I am, indeed, wasting my time. Instead, it makes me feel less alone. In the middle of every conflicted feeling and situation, I hang on to these sad songs because they are the proof that I am not alone in whatever I feel, even when I feel isolated and lonely. And I truly believe that's the most beautiful power held in music: making you feel like you're still connected with something or someone, even if you feel like you aren't.
Ever since I let a boy convince me to spend my sad fiver on a gig ticket instead of cheap Aldi cider, The Winter Passing have had a special place in my life, the band who has always brought me sunshine - and I am not even saying this because, the vast majority of the time, I have seen them on a rainy, cold day. I am not even saying this because, somewhere, my brain associates them with the warmth from the sun on your skin, sunflowers, daisies, iced tea, and fields. (Apparently, my brain is a Pinterest mood board bot for emo bands) The Winter Passing means sunshine because every time I have found myself in a venue where they were playing, every time I have pressed play on any of their songs, the wind has stopped bringing the clouds in. And, if, somewhere in the middle of all my feelings, you need a valid reason to listen to the wonderful New Ways Of Living, this is it. Allow yourself to leave the clouds outside of your brain for forty minutes. Allow yourself to smile when you hear the intro to Crybaby. Allow yourself to be amazed by a band that's doing the music thing extremely well, with sincerity and talent, without falling into any clichés or traps or trends. Allow yourself to relate to the lyrics, take them into your heart, and feel truly connected to something, especially at a strange, painful, and lonely time in our collective lives. Allow yourself to imagine a time when you're going to be in a tiny venue with sticky floorboards and cool posters on the wall, and you'll get to hear the magic in front of you. 



HELLO, IT'S YOU
(Bearings, released November 20th)

I saw Bearings support Set It Off in London, sometime last year, and despite following them on social media, I didn't know they were releasing an album in 2020 for the longest time - not until I stumbled upon Sway on YouTube, and talked about it to my friends. After that, I overplayed the few songs they had out, and I was hooked all over again.
Somehow, Hello, It's You manages to cater to a wide variety of my musical interests, even some truly niche ones. The album feels like the soundtrack of a cute coming of age film in the mid-2000s, and there isn't much more that I would bring back than cute coming of age films with killer scores. Tracks like Super Deluxe and So Damn Wrong have a clever 80s pop influence. Clever in the way that when you're listening to Bearings' most recent material, you aren't listening to a band who's just about to give up on guitars for keyboards and electronic sounds. They have taken all those sounds and influences and mixed them with their light, fun, pop-punk sound, and the result is, well, pardon me my generally overused phrase...banger after banger. As a whole, Hello, It's You heavily reminds me of Kids In Glass Houses' Peace, and if you have been with me for a while, you know how much the Welsh lot mattered to me. Finding a band that, six years after their split, captures a similar essence and sound is nothing short of a dream for me. Some of it, especially in the pop-punkier songs (yes, it's a word now), reminds me of Transit. It's quite the flawless list of influences and feelings here. Hello, It's You is the kind of record I could see myself playing on my way, somewhere, and feel like the cool heroine of a film I will never be. 
Just before the official release of the album, the band put out the song Dreams into the world. It's on the short side of everything (just over two minutes long) and, on first listen, without context, it sounds majorly different from Bearings' general sound, or the rest of the singles. If you take a look at the YouTube comments for it (don't), you'll notice how mixed the reviews are. I was cautious at first, because I tend to steer clear from everything that even vaguely reminds me of Drake, and this does, a little bit, but with the right context and in the right place, it makes all the sense in the world. Dreams is an audacious, brave song made by a still-young band who isn't afraid of anything at all, and that's going to be awesome to watch in the future.



AFTERBURNER
(Dance Gavin Dance, released April 24th)


Afterburner was one of the strangest things that happened to my 2020. I have always liked Dance Gavin Dance, but do not ever ask me how or why I got into them, because I have absolutely no fucking idea. I just do. They're just here, in my life, and if you ask me, yes, I like Dance Gavin Dance. I have seen them live, once, four years ago, when they did that anniversary tour that somehow included all four of their vocalists, taking turns on stage and then all performing together like they were one big, happy, headbanging family. It was one of the weirdest live experiences of my life, and by weird, I may mean awesome. I mostly remember the confusion I felt when everyone was on stage, even though I was aware it was a celebration of their whole history as a band.
I have also no idea what genre Dance Gavin Dance actually is. On instinct, I would say metalcore, but they don't sound anything like any other metalcore band I know. Post-hardcore? Who the hell knows. We're going to settle for Dance Gavin Dance-core, because they are so weird, and wonderful, and unique, and different that it would be criminal to force them into a defined genre.
Afterburner was one of the strangest things that happened to my 2020 because, despite me seeing some of my adored heavy bands releasing new material, THIS was my favourite heavy album of the year, and I wasn't expecting it. I KNOW their sound, I KNOW their music, and I still can't quite believe they manage the utter and complete feat of making heavy music sound so...groovy? Like, yes, you could totally have a mosh and a crowdsurf to this, I mean, they ARE a heavy band, after all, but...you can absolutely dance to this. I can see myself busting some serious moves at their show. (It sounds like a threat, and considering the state of my dancing, it most definitely is.)
My personal highlight of the album is Calentamiento Global, which translates to Global Warming. No, this isn't an enlightened song about the horrors of global warming and climate emergency. From what I have gathered online, correct me if I'm wrong, it is a song dedicated to vocalist Tilian Pearson's partner, who is Hispanic, so, as a tribute to her, half the song is in Spanish. Yes, you read that correctly - this is a metal song in Spanish. The lyrics, in true Dance Gavin Dance fashion, all bizarre metaphors and positively random associations of words, roughly translate to "Your ass brings world peace, the way you move solves global warming." This is, quite literally, the most incredible thing I have heard in...ever?
(I'm also really excited because I now speak enough Spanish now to sing along.)
I am aware most of these ramblings sound like the written-down version of those "so and so reacts to such and such" videos on YouTube, and this is basically a word for word vomit of the inside of my brain, but, in better words, Afterburner blows my little mind with every single listen. I love everything about it. I love the dual vocals, the harmony between Tilian Pearson's stunning voice and Jon Mess' brilliant screams is unmatched. I love the heaviness and the groove. I love the fact that they have included the word Kyrgyzstan in the lyrics (Lyrics Lie) and I am still adamant that it is a masterpiece of an album.



BIG VIBE
(Seaway, released October 16th)

See what I was saying about bands that sound like soundtracks for cute coming of age films of the 2000s?
Seaway is IT.
Listen to any of their songs, especially post-Colorblind, and tell me you couldn't imagine it being on the soundtrack of a film. Every single one of their songs could be in the unforgettable background for scenes of driving around in the sunshine, hanging out at the beach, the final party/prom/concert/fun function, a makeover at the local mall. The album's first single, Big Vibe, captured this very specific and particular vibe better than most songs I have heard in my life. It was MADE to be in a teenage coming of age rom-com, and it drives me absolutely crazy that it isn't going to. (Unless someone wants to take one for the team and do it, I'm sure we could do something. I don't have a car, but I have half a dozen bikes and a skateboard.)
Hearing Big Vibe, the album, for the first time, was, long story short, thinking eleven times that yes, this was absolutely astounding, and just what I needed to listen to. The intro to Mrs. David makes me exult with joy, every single time, as if I had forgotten it existed and was listening to it for the first time all over again. The super eighties-influenced music video is nothing short of a dream, aesthetic-wise. (I'm a sucker for classic American cars and blue eyeshadow, so, maybe I'm a little bit biased.)
I started listening to Seaway almost seven years ago, now, because RockSound shared the music video for Your Best Friend and I was so ecstatic at the idea of a band who didn't take themselves too seriously. They were just...fun, you know. Good, old, plain fun. And that's what's always made me stick around. It took me three years to finally see them live, when they played Slam Dunk, and, unsurprisingly, they are one of the most fun bands I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. Watching them at Slam Dunk last year, and that one crowdsurf to Best Mistake everyone on the planet has seen because I have plastered it all over social media, was one of the single most joyful experiences of my life. I was in the north of England in a field in May, it started raining, and I couldn't have given the tiniest fuck. And it's the best feeling you could ever possibly get from music, in my opinion. Like nothing else in the world around you matters. That's what I find in Seaway's music. Like the world around me, and inside of me, could be crumbling, but it's okay, because I've got an escape route through their music, through the sheer joy and escapism I find in it. Big Vibe is no different. 
Sound-wise, yes, I have said it before, and at this point, you all are probably sick of me talking about the teenage films of my youth, but mostly, it is flawless. Seaway evolved from a band on the heavier side of the pop-punk spectrum to an outfit that isn't afraid of including wider influences and poppier sounds into their music, but they have never lost their fun side. They are a band that can do it all and makes it sound so effortless. 
(Disclaimer- yes, I have listened to the lyrics. I know they're more than "good, old, plain fun." I'm an overgrown kid with a hopelessly romantic heart and mental health issues, of course, I find myself in Seaway's songwriting. Allow me, for once, to see past the relatable content.)




BRAIN PAIN
(Four Year Strong, released February 28th)

Anyone's got artists that make them feel like they are on top of the world, like they can conquer everything the world throws at them, like they are invincible, as if you were heading into battle with your own, personal, badass soundtrack. For some people, these artists are making pop music channeling self-confidence and body positivity. For others, it's the heaviest of heavy metal.
My top of the world, badass battle soundtrack has always been Four Year Strong. Only last night, I was watching their Holiday Special livestream and feeling immensely pumped-up, even though I was cross-stitching in my pyjamas in the middle of nowhere. Put on any Four Year Strong song, and I am ready for anything. I'd even run a marathon if I could run more than two minutes without passing out. In 2020, Four Year Strong released their first album in five years, if you don't count their acoustic record. (Some Of You Will Like This, Some Of You Won't, 2017) Not that they've been resting on their laurels in the meantime. They have consistently toured, including a ten year anniversary run for their iconic Rise Or Die Trying, back in 2017. New material was still long overdue, and, despite the half-decade wait, it didn't disappoint.
Brain Pain is everything I could have possibly wanted from a Four Year Strong record, which is a thing I found myself thinking about a lot of music, this year. Maybe, in many ways, the universe gave me things I wanted, in the form of albums and music and soundtracks. Brain Pain combines the absolute best Four Year Strong can do. It's got riffs for days, months, decades. I don't want to be that person writing about music, but one could call it rifftastic and be technically right, though unforgiven for using such a word. It's forty minutes or so of straight energy, pumping straight through your veins and, like the rest of their discography, motivating you to move mountains. As the title suggests, it evokes Brain Pain, mental health issues and situations, loneliness and heartbreak and generally feeling down on yourself. A reason why Four Year Strong are my badass battle soundtrack is their lyrical content. There is something so incredibly encouraging in their lyrics, something that makes you believe you will tell the world that it is not allowed to rain on your parade, and that if it wants to bring you down, it's going to have to bring its A-game, because you are fucking unbeatable, even though in your case, just like in mine, "panic at the disco" is not a metaphor. I found this, somewhere, in Brain Pain. I found this same motivating power, this loud and chaotic magic, this irrepressible energy that made me believe I could conquer everything I set my mind to, even something as challenging as my own brain pain.
There seems to be a pressure on bands to constantly reinvent themselves, in fear of becoming "irrelevant." We expect bands, especially in the alternative world, a place nostalgic of the mainstream successes of yesteryear, to embrace every little trend, every social media platform, every sound that makes the charts, every conversational topic. We expect, almost demand constant reinvention. While I appreciate and wholeheartedly support change and evolution, experimentation and trying new things out, I grow to love consistency, knowing where your strengths lay and pushing them further with every new song and album. I believe Four Year Strong are absolute champions at doing that, better than many artists, and this is why Brain Pain is such a flawless record. They have taken everything that makes them who they are as a band, taken all their core elements, and pushed them a step further. As a fan, I love this with every piece of my heart, and as an artist of sorts, I admire this so much. Brain Pain is a record born in self-confidence, and I can only hope to reach such a state of myself someday.
And, whatever anyone has to say on the subject, opening an album with a song like It's Cool is such a power move, and you cannot change my mind. That riff on a loop and that build up are god tier, as the kids would say.



WAKE UP SUNSHINE
(All Time Low, released April 3rd)


See, I don't know how many people know this about me, how much I have talked about it online, or how many people still remember this era of my life, but I used to be pretty embarrassingly obsessed with All Time Low. I used to listen to Nothing Personal every day before university (alongside Hold Me Down by You Me At Six), my Tumblr blog was plastered with bad pictures taken with flash at shows in America where I desperately wanted to go because they played all the songs they never played in Europe, and I used to regularly don Glamour Kills t-shirts. I had one of the Jack Barakat x GK ones, and I had a purple one I had chosen because I had seen Alex wear the same one. Yes, it's embarrassing, especially when you consider my age at the time, but 2010 was a hard year, and happiness was a fleeting little thing. As it turns out, a four-man pop-punk band from Baltimore who used to make questionable jokes on stage was my gateway to a smile on my face, so, I embraced it, warts and all.
Then, due to albums I didn't feel like I could relate to anymore, bad memories, and the arrival of metalcore and deathcore in my life, I fell a little out of love with All Time Low. I would still go to their shows, but it felt like I had lost something. Even though, along the way, I shed the toxic layers of my existence and slowly fell back in love with them, nothing quite felt like Nothing Personal and before.
That was until Wake Up, Sunshine came out.
I remember listening to Some Kind Of Disaster and Sleeping In and thinking, well, I really like this. I liked the aesthetic that came attached to the era. When the album came out, I listened to it with a curious mind and reasonable expectations, and I was blown away. Wake Up, Sunshine is, quite simply put, some of All Time Low's very best work. It's got the gritty pop-punk side I adored in their first releases. It has the songwriting that first caught my attention, the one-liners younger me would have doodled everywhere and plastered all over her Twitter and Tumblr. It's, no pun intended, a ray of sunshine, pure joy, a bubbly, fruity drink, those scenes in light-hearted movies where the heroine goes outside and looks at the world with brand new eyes and everyone breaks into a spontaneous, yet perfectly coordinated dance routine, including someone jumping in a fountain. 
I feel like I am entirely, completely, unapologetically back on my bullshit, and I'm not sure I'm sorry.
There is not much I want more than finally hearing those songs live, all of them. I want to cry with joy. I want to dance like an idiot with my best friends. I want to open up a moshpit in the middle of people who will glare at me and not understand what the hell the weird girl with the red hair is doing. I want to crowdsurf. I want to feel alive. One of my very few favourite parts of 2020 was getting one of my safe places back, getting one of my favourite bands back. I am honestly so thrilled at the idea of having All Time Low back at a place that feels right that I could cry.




FOLKLORE/EVERMORE
(Taylor Swift, released July 31st and December 11th)

When, last year, Taylor Swift dropped ME!, the single announcing her seventh record, Lover, I publicly claimed that whatever she was doing was my Endgame, as a reference to every single person I know turning their lives upside down for what I believe is the last of the Avengers films. (I have little to no knowledge on Marvel, allow me.)
That's the thing, between me and everything Taylor does. A part of me embraces the pop singer crazed teen I never was. When she releases new music, I press the pause button on everything else going on in my life, and I give her my full attention. She's the only person in the world I would drop disgusting amounts of money on, no questions asked. Whenever she does something, she comes first, above everyone else. 
When, on the 31st of July, she dropped folklore, almost unannounced, I got up two hours early to make sure I would have it saved on Spotify to listen to during the day, and listening to it was nothing short of an experience. I cannot listen to one of her albums for the first time while doing something else, because I need to focus on every word and every line. I haven't studied words like this since I was at university. When you work on English assignments and you wonder if you're ever going to use the knowledge and the skill ever again, wait until you become a Taylor Swift fan. She has me analysing seemingly random words, photographs, and music videos like I am back in my third year of university, and I didn't even care this much at the time.
Listening to folklore and then, evermore, was almost a religious experience. The problem with loving someone as much as I love Taylor Swift is that in my blinded little eyes, she can do no wrong. So, when she dropped two albums in the same year, it was obvious that they were going to find themselves high up on the list of my favourites of the year before I even listened to them. (Lover was also my album of the year 2019) I love the way they are a complete shift from everything she usually does, and at the same time, you could not mistake them for anyone else's albums. Taylor is used to preparing eras in advance, but folklore and evermore came out with little to no advertising, only posts on social media. It didn't feel like the big Taylor machine was taking over the world, the way it usually does. It was just a girl putting some music out into the world, a back to basics situation. Another thing I love about folklore and evermore is that the emphasis is very much put on the vocals, as opposed to the melodies. Not that the instruments and the melodies and the production aren't lovely, but they aren't what I am drawn to the most. It goes well with the idea of folklore (not the album title), the idea of stories and songs passed down from generation to generation, as if Taylor would have got them from someone else, and was passing them down to us. The fact that the focus is put on the vocals allows for a deeper understanding of the lyrics and allows you to truly immerse yourself in the story.
folklore and evermore are stories, and, for the first time, maybe, they aren't Taylor's personal stories. Not that there aren't references to her personal life. The song marjorie is about her late grandmother, and epiphany was inspired by her grandfather. I do believe invisible string is about her long term boyfriend, and don't get me started on the rumours about my tears ricochet. Overall, though, folklore and evermore do not draw most of their inspiration from Taylor's life. They are fictional stories, coming straight out of her endless imagination. Songs are linked together, the albums are linked together, weaving like a little world she has created from scratch.
I could talk about Taylor Swift's craft and artistry for hours on end. The way she writes her music, the way she thinks, the way she strings words together absolutely fascinates me. I don't think I have a favourite song in either folklore or evermore. Every single one of these songs feels like something I needed without ever knowing I did. I have never listened to Bon Iver outside of Skinny Love, and I found myself excited about two collaborations between the two. I had never thought she would ever write a song about a woman killing an unfaithful husband, but she did, and no body, no crime is one of the greatest things I have ever heard. (Again, I have never even listened to Haim before, but boy do they add to the song) I love every character, and I wouldn't even be surprised if there was more to their story, a third sister to folklore and evermore. Both these albums feel like such an immersive experience in their own way, and I simply do not ever want them to stop. I want every detail about every character, I would be happy with films and books, and here we go, brain into overdrive.
To me, folklore and evermore are Taylor's magic at its finest. 



20/20
(Knuckle Puck, released September 18th)

Throughout the years, I have moved to a place in life where everything Knuckle Puck does is going to get me so ridiculously excited. All it took was seeing them with my friends and sealing unexpected memories on their debut album, Copacetic. All it took was a Download set, in 2017, when I decided they needed to become more than just memories with my friends. All it took was the summer of 2018, when listening to Shapeshifter felt like rediscovering them, when I ended up seeing them in their hometown of Tinley Park, Illinois, a little by accident, and it was one of my all-time favourite shows. All it took was listening to songs like Conduit and thinking well, this reminds me of another band, not in a plagiarism kind of way, but as if I could establish some sort of connection between the two, and it's something so weirdly magical that I struggle to put words on it.
In a less convoluted turn of words, Knuckle Puck reminds me of Jimmy Eat World, and since I realised that, I started feeling more connected to their music. I am not (only) saying that because they have said that their song Untitled was inspired by Jimmy Eat World's Goodbye Sky Harbor, much less because the opening riff of Earthquake uncannily sounds like the first seconds of The Authority Song. It's just something I feel. I think it's just me.
Somewhere, out there, I have found a band that reminds me of my favourite band, and it's not like I need another Jimmy Eat World, but it makes the whole ordeal so much more special for me.
This wasn't where I was going with this, shockingly.
In 2020, Knuckle Puck released their long-awaited third full-length record, 20/20. Through interviews, I learnt that with this album, they wanted to do music that was overall more positive, more light-hearted, which is something I truly believe they have done in 20/20. I was almost annoyed that it came out three days before the start of autumn because it deserves to be listened to at the peak of the summer, while you're driving around. It's an album that was tailor-made for road trips in the sunshine, and, after the year we have all had, it's almost criminal I didn't get to have that. (Yes, I know, there's still next summer.) Something I love and respect a lot in the creative process of 20/20 is the way they have gone about making music that was more positive. Positivity is a double-edged sword. It's so easy to want to head down this road and fall into every 2012 hopecore cliché, and I am at a time in my life when I do not need people to tell me in plain, unpoetic words to hold on because pain ends and make it the bulk of their business model. It is so easy to want to make light-hearted, sunnier music, and fall into the trap of making the same song over and over again, or accidentally strip your music of any sort of meaning in the process. God, we've seen this much too often. Knuckle Puck have gracefully and successfully avoided doing all of this. They have avoided falling on the wrong side of an often empty and weirdly toxic positive discourse. 20/20 is truly, entirely uplifting. There is no way you can reach the end of the record and feel blue and down on yourself. It's so wonderfully sunny, inside and out, that you have to feel a little warmer inside your bones. 
But 20/20 undoubtedly remains a Knuckle Puck record, with some of the best musicianship in the scene as we speak. Every song is catchy in its own way, and effortlessly so. The harmonies between Joe Taylor's and Nick Casasanto's vocals are always right, simply right, and the choice of having Mayday Parade's Derek Sanders as a guest vocalist on the lovely Breathe was perfect to add another layer of softness to the song. In exploring lighter subjects, the band has kept its songwriting talent, which is, again, no mean feat. Remember that time when Alternative Press published that piece with a headline somewhere along the lines of "sixteen words we didn't know before we listened to Knuckle Puck's Copacetic?" First, what the hell, but also, second, they're still that band, expanding their chosen pool of topics and not losing their way with words, not falling into cliché metaphors and overused turns of phrases. 
I don't know what long-winded wish of mine 20/20 fulfilled. It made and still makes my days brighter, and it made and still makes me impatient to be in a place where I can have a boogie and a whale-like crowdsurf to Earthquake. (Again, I'm aware it does sound like a threat.)
(Disclaimers- I have nothing against The Color Morale, and I know KP say they're from "South Side, Chicago," but no one's going to make me believe they aren't from Tinley Park in some way, shape, or form when they mentioned street names on stage at Warped Tour.)




RACE CAR BLUES
(Slowly Slowly, released February 28th)

So.
If you're surprised by this turn of events, where the hell were you this year? 
I wrote quite the lengthy post already about my album of the year, and about how it reminded me of a perfect weekend in my life, a time when it wasn't released yet. I KNOW. If you have had a conversation with me, this year, there isn't much I can add about Race Car Blues by Slowly Slowly. I have listened to it a disgusting amount of times, and don't be fooled by the numbers on the date changing, I plan on doing a lot more of that - especially since we seem to have the extended version coming our way, announced by the recently released heartbreaker Comets & Zombies.
The only thing I undoubtedly know is that I have found a lot of comfort in Race Car Blues. I have found so much hope, as if, at the end of the journey, I was able to turn things around, leave the dark parts behind, and start all over again without so much baggage. I cannot even explain the feeling. There is something in the title track, in the line "I don't want to go" repeated several times like a mantra, something that feels like, maybe, I, too, don't want to go anywhere, and I don't want to let anything or anyone bring me down. I think in so many ways, I relate to that song. I miss myself, I miss the way I used to be, I miss the way I used to look, I miss the way my life used to be, and, in every kind message, I knew I wasn't alone. 
It's a strange state of affairs, finding yourself with a pile of things to say about an album you love with all your heart, all of it, every tiny vein, and atom, and cell, and part of it, but not knowing how.
I remember reading a live review of a Slowly Slowly show, dating back to the end of 2019, I think, because Creature Of Habit Pt.2 was already out. Maybe it was the Race Car Blues release shows. I can't remember. The reviewer said something about how, when everyone sang along to the line "Olly olly oxen free, not sorry," it felt like watching people leaving all the negative things behind, shedding it all off, and it's the way I feel throughout all the record. You are revisiting the flaws, the negativity, the concerns, the worries, the nagging existential questions, but ultimately, you are letting it all go, as easy as something kids would cry out during an innocent game. There's all the hope I found in Race Car Blues.
The hope that one day, after swimming against the current for so long, it will feel so easy to let it go.
It's been a long time since music has given me something so tangible, so life-affirming, a lighthouse of sorts, somewhere in the distance, but not unattainable. Something within reach.
Going into 2020, the only thing I truly wanted was to feel like getting better was within reach. 
I got my wish, and it doesn't hurt that it comes in the form of a perfectly rounded album, a journey, with a start and an end. An album the way it should be, in its purest form. It comes with catchy hooks, and the promise that one day, I will find myself in the middle of a crowd and dance like the idiot we all know I can be to Jellyfish. It comes with a duet, for lack of a better word, just the way I like them. It comes with all my big words, my big feelings, and my big emotions, and, at the same time, it doesn't take itself too seriously. It's utterly, completely, absolutely perfect. There isn't a split second I would change about it.


Share This Story

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , ,

You Might Also Like

0 comments