I thought long and hard about this one because, with autumn starting soon, there are many albums I could have looked at and dissected, perfect soundtracks to shorter days and rust-coloured leaves falling off trees, to hot drinks and quieter days. I know it's the second half of September already, but to me, it is still the end of the summer, and I have decided to take a closer look into what I realised, today, is an album that feels nostalgic yet warm and familiar, just like the end of the summer: Knuckle Puck's 20/20.
I like that it somehow coincides with the album's first anniversary, as the Chicago pop-punks' third full-length was released on the 18th of September, 2020. Many things have been said by the scene about this record, a scene who tends to live in the past and believe better days have come and gone, who likes the first album, sometimes the second, and struggles to connect to the third and beyond because, just like in real life, change is a tricky concept in pop-punk. Not that Knuckle Puck have dramatically changed since the start of their career, since their first EPs and the critically acclaimed Copacetic, which helped them rise to fame in 2015. It's just that years have passed since those first songs, those angrier tracks, and, as humans evolve, they have different things on their minds. I'm not the same person I was in 2015, and, in that regard, I would never expect my favourite bands to be the same.
I like that it somehow coincides with the album's first anniversary, as the Chicago pop-punks' third full-length was released on the 18th of September, 2020. Many things have been said by the scene about this record, a scene who tends to live in the past and believe better days have come and gone, who likes the first album, sometimes the second, and struggles to connect to the third and beyond because, just like in real life, change is a tricky concept in pop-punk. Not that Knuckle Puck have dramatically changed since the start of their career, since their first EPs and the critically acclaimed Copacetic, which helped them rise to fame in 2015. It's just that years have passed since those first songs, those angrier tracks, and, as humans evolve, they have different things on their minds. I'm not the same person I was in 2015, and, in that regard, I would never expect my favourite bands to be the same.
On my side of the ocean, I have instantly clicked with 20/20 and ranked it pretty high in my list of albums from the worst year the world has seen. The only sort of complaint I had was that it was released at the end of the summer, at a time of year when the days shorten, and you have fewer occasions to be outside and soak up the sun if you live in Europe, when all I wanted was to blast it in my brother's car, windows down, driving on countryside roads with my heart-shaped sunglasses and my arm hanging outside, a little kid making waves with the wind, forever. It was almost a year in the making, but it was worth it. Through research, I discovered this idea was a feeling the band wanted to instil in their sound. Music to listen to with the windows down. I guess great minds think alike.
And every time I listen to 20/20, every time the words reach my brain, I am reminded of how deeply in love I am with the way Knuckle Puck have instilled true, genuine positivity into who they are as a band and as a collective of artists.
The opening track also happens to be the album's title track, 20/20. This song feels like a reminder that life is only fleeting ("I can finally see clearly / As if my vision's 20/20 / That everything is temporary") and that, in that regard, all we can possibly do is get up and do the things that make us tick. Staring at our thoughts and at the passing of time will never allow us more days and years to live, so we might as well just seize whatever we have and experience everything to the fullest instead of hiding in the dark. ("If it's easier, then close your eyes / But know that you could never see the light") It's basically carpe diem in song form, but with the acknowledgement that sometimes, shit gets real, and not every day is going to be worthy of parades and rainbows. It's admitting that, as humans, we don't actually have any other option than putting ourselves out there and experiencing life, warts and all. Looking at the lyrics, I could safely argue that they are a perfect demonstration of what we have previously discussed, about positivity seeping into an artist's music. This still reads like a Knuckle Puck song, the songwriting is unmistakable, it's them and their voice, but at the same time, it touches upon lighter subjects.
Favourite line: "You gotta get up and get outside / If you wanna feel the sunshine."
Tune You Out is the very first taste of the third full-length we got, back in February of last year, and it was also the first song the band had released in about two years. Through research on the timeline, I found out that this is a song about "giving yourself and others the appropriate time and space to grow," according to guitarist Nick Casasanto. The song itself reflects the idea of countless fights with a person ("Wrecked to the Nth degree"), of disagreements with someone's general attitude ("Such a weird flex to say 'My sun gave you the shade' / Thought for once you could act your age") but choosing to take a time out until it hopefully gets better. ("I'll tune you out / Till we all calm down") It's definitely a more mature point of view on human relationships, this understanding that everyone can evolve and grow, including ourselves, and sometimes, all one needs is the time, space, and grace to figure themselves out, even in the middle of arguments.
I'll have to add, too, that not everyone can use such a time and place phrase like "weird flex" in song lyrics without it sounding like the "how do you do, fellow kids?" meme, and I can't help but love that Knuckle Puck pulls it off so well.
Favourite line: "Someday, you'll see, you still got so much to love."
Track three, Sidechain, feels like reflecting on a relationship that goes awry because one of the parties does not know how to express their feelings, or maybe doesn't want to do it. ("If you can't convey / Just what it is you're feeling") There is also the realisation that it is okay to step out of something if you cannot communicate with the other person. The second party might regret it in the future ("And as the time fades / You'll wish I could stay"), but you're leaving regardless. ("I'm splitting away") Once again, it strikes as a mature point of view on human relationships- sometimes, it doesn't work out if both parties are not matching each other's efforts, and in such cases, leaving is a fine option, as opposed to the youthful and often romanticised idea of never giving up on anyone or anything at all. In all honesty, I had to research the word sidechain, and in simple terms for the non-production enclined like myself, it's a way to set up a mix so that when one sound comes in, another one quietens down, and, after I understood the definition, the relation it has with the lyrics absolutely blew my mind. There is so much energy in that song that it has also made its way into the list of my favourites, and one of the top 20/20 tracks I simply have to hear live someday.
Favourite line: "I guess I never knew my place / Now I'm tripping through a ghost town."
As I mentioned in different posts, I used to be very adamant on which songs got the favourite spot in a given album, and once I had made up my mind, it became something unmovable. This is an attitude of the past for me, favourites fluctuate, and at the minute, the closest thing to a favourite track I have on 20/20 is Earthquake. It's the perfect definition of a carefree summer anthem, the kind of music I am dying to hear again in coming of age films. In general fiction, stories usually start with the idea that "there's this boy," but in pop-punk songs, they start with "there's this girl." In Earthquake, there's this girl, who "looks so good you got me confused." However, even though Earthquake has the unmistakable feel and catchiness of a traditional, pure teenage love song about having such a crush on someone it feels like the Earth shakes when they are around, it has also been written from an adult point of view. It's not just about the girl's look, it also sees her as a person. ("More ideas than IOUs with the ambition to see 'em through") I love how it acknowledges that the other person is not flawless ("Picture perfect, she's far from that"), but even when knowing their shortcomings, you can't help but feel like an awkward kid who daydreams about their crush when they're alone and the world gets a bit tough. ("Feel the crash at noon / From lack of coffee and Prozac / No emails coming through / In my mind, I'm with you")
Favourite line: I'm allowing myself two, because it's my favourite song, and I make the rules anyway. "I can't just cover it up like your first tattoo" and "She's like a dream to me, a cranberry sunrise."
RSVP, our track five, has been released in April 2020 to properly kick off the 20/20 era, and it was explained like this by Nick Casasanto: "So much had happened in my personal life after the release of 'Shapeshifter' that I felt like life was moving and changing faster than I could cope." I'll let this one be the mystery of the album, the one I don't want to wrongly overanalyse, which, as stated before, is great. Knowing I have a lot more to discover in the future is fantastic. Listening to music is a neverending process that changes with the experiences you go through anyway. In RSVP, I see the idea of leaving something or someone behind, in the bridge ("If I'm telling the truth, I won't miss you, I won't miss you"), though it could almost be unclear who is on what side of the story. I also see the idea of questioning why you left or pursued what you wanted. ("Those idealistic dreams were never so naive.") However, in both cases, the doubts are being let go of- a key theme of the record. From a listener's standpoint, especially one who doesn't know much about musical technique, RSVP feels like several songs rolled into one, multiple energies, with tempos changing regularly, and it could almost feel erratic (in the best possible way)- just like the general theme of the song.
Favourite line: "I'll call in every favor from Seattle to the Atlantic / If it takes me that long."
Breathe was also released as a single, complete with a cool music video, in June 2020, and it features Mayday Parade's frontman, Derek Sanders. It's the band's first collaboration since Evergreen, on Copacetic, which features rationale.'s Dan Lambton. Breathe is, quite simply put, about the idea that when things become too overwhelming, and you're overthinking everything ("weighing outcomes incessantly"), sometimes, all you can do is take a second to reset things and simply breathe before you can move forward and put in the extra effort into what it is you were doing. It's just that simple. Take a time out, take a minute to breathe, take a minute for yourself, but don't give up. ("Exhale, but don't blow out the flame.") This is quite a simple theme, really, one of the basic rules for self-care, the idea of allowing time to yourself, but it's beautifully executed. Derek Sanders' voice, which is quite soft, heavily contributes to the comforting feeling of the song, and though an unexpected collaborator in this album, he fits in perfectly well. I love the reminder that things are quite simple, not as complicated and intricate as we make them out to be. We always need to hear that sometimes.
(Anyone else feels the need for Knuckle Puck and Mayday Parade to tour together now? I have a feeling it has happened in the past, but, you know. A tour I could attend would be quite nice.)
Favourite line: "Sport a smile like you don't know what comes next."
Next up, we have What Took You So Long, which was also released prior to the full album. (They really tried to leak their own record for us, didn't they.) It's one of those songs for which I am glad we have an official explanation regarding the meaning because chances are, I wouldn't have figured it out by myself. In Nick Casasanto's words, What Took You So Long is about how "sometimes, the search for peace can bring you even further from it" and how "writing this song helped me learn how to let go and simply be a vehicle for my own thoughts." And now, I can see it. Just like the song says, it truly was right in front of my face the whole time. ("What you were searching for / Was here the entire time") There is also the idea of seeing something, but not for what it is, getting it confused. ("In perfect rows, the pink and blue seem so aligned / Dressed in prose, the darkest hues quickly ignite") In the end, you realise that the answer you were searching for was right in front of you, everything else is just passing through, and maybe searching for peace, or answers, or, whatever, is not this complicated process everyone believes it is, but it is simply about letting go of the overthinking, over information, and of the things that aren't good for you. ("Nothing good ever comes with your eyes glued down to your phone")
Favourite line: "Dressed in prose, the darkest hues quickly ignite."
Into The Blue is one of the first non-single tracks that stuck with me on my first listens. After taking a look at the lyrics, I realised that the line "Swan dive from twenty-thousand feet above it all / I wanna fall into the blue" reminded me of the words "Free fall into foreign waters" in 2015's Untitled, and it makes sense to me, since Copacetic and 20/20 are, as records, born from the same desire to say "you are okay, you are still here, you are alive." Of course, they would have to be linked, somehow. (And I am a sucker for a good Easter egg and parallel, even accidental.)
Quite simply put and in unpretty terms, this song gives the feeling of doing things without thinking and having no idea how even got to that point in your life. ("Been hanging high above the atmosphere for so long / I can't recall how we got here") There is also the feeling of trying to find some sort of middle ground, of balance, between the highs ("High above the atmosphere") and the lows ("Pushing through the ceiling") A recurring theme through 20/20 is the desire to let go and just be, almost just be carried by the flow, not to be plagued by insecurities or doubt, and this song is the perfect summary of it. The colour blue traditionally means calm and serenity, which is the feeling you get from the music, the softer vocals, and the lyrics- the idea that when you find that middle ground, that infinity, that place where you can just float- it's quiet.
Favourite line: "Swan dive from twenty-thousand feet above it all / I wanna fall into the blue."
You know how, sometimes, you listen to music and think you understand the lyrics, you know what a song is about, and then, it hits you how wrong you were this whole time? The truth is, you understand the words, but not really what they mean, underneath the surface. Or maybe you're like me, and you know what the lyrics mean, but you feel unable to put it into cohesive thoughts and sentences? That was me with Green Eyes (Polarized). So, long story short, green eyes generally are a metaphor for mystery, and polarized, in simple terms I couldn't explain to myself, means being separated into opposing groups, like negative and positive. And that's where lies the whole idea of the song. In three words and a whole lot of meaning. You're faced with someone who doesn't want to show their whole self, maybe a situation you don't know everything about, which results in the two parties being on opposite sides. But in the chorus, there is almost a plea for not letting it be just that, not letting the polarisation being the be-all and end-all. Things don't have to be constantly opposed, they can just go from one side to the next by flowing into each other. Even if something ends, it doesn't have to be going from one polar opposite to the next. Even putting this out into the world, I'm not sure I got it right. Oh, well. I guess that's the thing about music. You can find any meaning you want in it. Maybe I'll get something else from this song a year from now.
Favourite line: "When one good thing marks the ending of another / Why can't we let it be like spring into the summer?"
In astronomy, true north means a direction that leads to the North Pole. Metaphorically speaking, however, because a compass always points north, the concept of true north means an orienting point, something stable and fixed, something that will never let you down, that will always be here. I hadn't thought twice about the idea of leaving the lights on either, though I remember reading that, on top of being a metaphor for always being here to welcome someone, it is something people who are waiting on a missing loved one do to let them know that, should they want to come home, there would always be a place for them. In True North, here, there is a true longing for home, as show the memories of the past. There is the desire for something that means stability and security, something that will always be here, however far you may stray, and whatever may happen to you. There will always be something or someone to welcome you home. The beauty of True North is that it can be interpreted as a person or a place, a hometown, maybe. Maybe True North has been written with Chicago in mind. But if I'm inclined, I can think about my own hometown, my corner of the universe, my river banks and my streets, and I like the idea a lot.
Favourite line: "Just promise that you'll leave the light on / To point me toward true north."
Miles Away, outside of its almost wanderlust-like title, feels like a journey in itself, and, considering it closes 20/20, it is a journey within a journey. The song starts with one being taken miles away, whether literally or metaphorically, almost as if they didn't want to leave in the first place, but when you reach the last line of the song, the perspective has shifted, and the journey is over. ("I've been miles away until now") There has been miscommunication along the way ("Frightened by messages failing to transmit"), mental health situations ("Pure chaos in my head") and fear ("When did it become the norm? / The grip of this mental storm / Has got its hold on me"), but by the time you get to the last notes, everything is fine. You have arrived where you should have been, through a series of trials, tribulations, errors, and experiences, and what matters most is that you are okay, alive, and fine. Which is exactly what 20/20 was all about.
Favourite line: "There's something in the way / Between the tongue and brain / Was it written on my face all along?"
I almost started the last paragraph and train of thought with the phrase "in conclusion," as if we were reaching the end of an academic journey. I guess you can take the girl out of the English degree, but you can't take the English degree out of the girl. Jokes aside, 20/20 is, a year later, massively underrated and maybe misunderstood. Maybe it stems from the fact that, for the most part, we haven't heard any of these songs live. Maybe it comes from people's intrinsic struggle with change and, though subtle and logical, 20/20 is a change in Knuckle Puck's discography and direction. Maybe it is so because people want their pop-punk infused with teenage angst and don't see that humans don't shout about things forever. I don't have all the answers. Personally, I find it criminally underrated. Yes, the sound might be softer at times, but it has a lot of heart, which, most of the time, matters more to me than angst. Knuckle Puck's songwriting is one of the most clever in the genre, a perfect mix of everyday, relatable, mundane talk, all current phrases, and intricate metaphors that feel like poetry. What more could I possibly want?
I don't have specific, big memories to put on this record yet the way I do with the previous ones, as I have mostly stayed home since its release. I don't have funny stories of me almost passing away in a crowdsurfing event or dancing to it live, even hearing it live. I haven't really shared it with anyone, it doesn't take me back to certain events with my friends like, for example, Pretense always will. I haven't heard anyone's thoughts about it outside of the Internet as a unit. I haven't listened to it anywhere else than the house where I live, the wheat and sunflower fields down the road, or my brother's white van. It doesn't take me to Chicago like No Good does, or to Toronto like most of Shapeshifter. I love it immensely, but in many ways, in my life, it still has a lot of blank space to fill, lots of little stories to scribble all over. Which I love.
For now, 20/20 remains something full of light and the best kind of quiet. As I said at the end of last year, there is no way you can get to the end of it and feel blue or down on yourself. This is an album to take you back home and back to yourself, whatever that means to you.