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jaketheaudiophile · 4 years

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Best Albums of 2019

Well hello there! Long time, no see.

In keeping up with my lazy past tactics, I really only use this blog for end-of-the-year recaps anymore, which I’m completely fine with. I still listen to music as much as I always have, but have lost the desire to constantly write about it. I guess this is adulthood, or having a “real job” or something.

Either way, here are my top 15 albums of 2019. What were yours?

HONORABLE MENTION

DELTA SLEEP: “Younger Years” EP

released September 27 via Big Scary Monsters

Delta Sleep completely surprised everyone this year by releasing this EP without any prior announcement or notice. No teaser tracks, no hints at studio time, just completely out of the blue. Props to these British math-rock legends for their secrecy; it was certainly a fun thing to wake up and see all over social media on a random Saturday in September. These guys definitely have a formula or format they stick to on their releases, so this is more of the same for longtime fans, and that’s largely a good thing. I still think they tend to rely on filler tracks or noise too frequently, but the good definitely outweighs the bad. This was easily my favorite EP of 2019 and is definitely worth mentioning for this list.

#15

UNWED SAILOR: “Heavy Age”

released May 3 via Current Taste / Johnathan Ford

Man, was I really looking forward to this one. My favorite band releasing their first full-length album in 11 years? And their first new music in 6 years in general? What could go wrong? Not much, to be honest, but I felt overall underwhelmed with “Heavy Age”. Most of the songs run together or could use editing instead of just repeating passes ad naseum. Also, the 13-minute-plus album closer “When You Want Me There” is largely meandering and pointless. Still, I love Johnathan Ford and his merry band of musicians for a reason, and there are definitely quality songs and moments on this record. I worry that I might be including them here out of obligation, but it still was better than other records I left off my list this year. The band has also already announced another new record in 2020, and I’ll go into that with the same reckless abandon of excitement as I did this album.

#14

SOMOS: “Prison On A Hill”

released August 30 via Tiny Engines

I really, really, really wanted to love this record. Boston’s Somos had been teasing this album’s progress for over a year, and their previous releases have been some of my favorite pop and punk from the decade. I’m not always the biggest proponent of politically charged art, but Somos always did it in a way that was sensible and understated. Unfortunately, this album’s release came prematurely due to tragic passing of guitarist Phil Haggerty. The band was able to put out the album earlier than anticipated with all funding going to Haggerty’s funeral expenses and family, which was a wonderful move by record label Tiny Engines. The album doesn’t feel rushed or unfinished, but is a bit too muddled and all-over-the-place for my liking. Longtime drummer Evan Deges left the band prior to the recording of “Prison”, and Somos decided to go the route of programmed drums instead of a session musician or new band member. The result is sadly a bit soulless, although it does compliment some of the more electronic leans in the band’s sound as well. The truly sad thing is that this will most likely be the last release by this band per their social media and interviews post-release, and I wish that tragedy would not have struck them during a time of a seemingly musical lack of focus.

#13

COUNTERPARTS: “Nothing Left to Love”

released November 1 via Pure Noise Records

I’ve been a huge fan of these Canadian melodic hardcore mainstays for ages, but I wasn’t crazy about their last release, 2017′s “You’re Not You Anymore”. Two of my favorite members (drummer Kelly Bilal and guitarist Jesse Doreen) quit the band right before it came out, and the resulting record felt unpolished and rushed. Thankfully, a bit more seasoning for the new members on the road and in the studio seems to have worked wonders, as “Nothing Left to Love” is back on the quality path for these bruisers. I’ve always adored vocalist Brendan Murphy’s delivery, and it’s legit stunning that he still has a throat after years of brutal barking, let alone how good it sounds on this release. Additionally, the band has a clever skill of interweaving cool triplets or other rhythms and complex structures underneath otherwise traditional breakdowns or song structures, which puts them in rarified air in a traditionally by-the-numbers genre. All this said, the title track / album closer sort of ruins the album for me. It’s essentially an unnecessary clean, polished filler track and feels tacked on to extend the length of the record, and I almost always skip it. Still, it was excellent to hear these guys back on their game, and I’m excited to see where they go from here.

#12

STATE FAULTS: “Clairvoyant”

released June 21 via No Sleep Records

I can’t say that this is the most original record I’ve ever heard. Anyone who is a fan of Deafheaven or any similar noisy / thrashy metal outfits will certainly find this sound familiar. However, it’s done with an unabashed energy and brutality alongside a sincerity that is truly refreshing. There’s a fascinating rawness to both Johnny Andrew’s shrieking vocals and the utter cacophony his bandmates whip up throughout their songs. The dedication to melody throughout everything also makes the songs memorable. This album caught me completely out of nowhere via an Anthony Fantano shoutout and resonated in all its ugly glory.

#11

KING GIZZARD AND THE LIZARD WIZARD: “Fishing For Fishies”

released April 26 via Flightless Records / ATO Records

Speaking of the Internet’s Busiest Music Nerd, I first heard of these Australian weirdos thru the Needle Drop’s channel, but didn’t really fully deep dive into their prolific catalogue until this year. The fact that they released 2 full-length albums in 2019 is impressive enough (let alone releasing FIVE in 2017), but it’s jaw-dropping that the two most recent efforts are on complete opposite ends in terms of sound and genre. I personally prefer the blues-rock goodness of “Fishies” to the thrash-metal leanings of “Infest The Rat’s Nest”, but unending respect to these dudes for managing to pull both off convincingly. . The album closer “Cyboogie” is a bit too overlong and bizarre for me, but it works as a nice transition to the concepts the band bring out for “Infest The Rat’s Nest”, so I get where they are coming from. This album has some of the most infectious grooves and blues guitar riffs I’ve heard while passing along a necessary message on environmental concerns and conservationalism. The serious bits aren’t require, though, and it’s certainly plenty of fun to kick out the jams and enjoy the ride.

#10

INFANT ANNIHILATOR: “The Battle of Yaldabaoth”

Self-released by the band on September 11

Ok, ok...I get it. Most people will dismiss these grindcore hooligans as an internet joke band. That’s really what I went into this record expecting: Absurd lyrics, hilarious-yet-impressive vocals, blistering blastbeats, etc. I was instead greeted by one of the impressive and intricate technical death metal albums I’ve experienced. Vocalist Dickie Allen truly outdoes himself with his quite frankly ridiculous vocal range, but Eddie Pickard truly deserves credit for the album’s newfound ventures. His guitar and bass work is over-the-top but mesmerizing, and the riffs and structures he crafts here are all sorts of brilliant. As funny as it feels to type out, this band really needs to be taken seriously, or at the very least should be commended for leaning into the joke and delivering something complex, disgusting and awe-inspiring.

JIMMY EAT WORLD: “Surviving”

released October 18 via Exotic Location and RCA Records

Speaking of things I didn’t see coming this year...I adore Jimmy Eat World. “Clarity” is one of my favorite albums of all time, but I’ve largely fallen off keeping up with the band’s recent releases. Some good friends (+realfriends) talked up their latest and 10th release, “Surviving”, so I picked it up out of curiosity and was stunned at how competent and compelling it is. I even love the song with no obvious guitars or drums that I would have probably normally panned as a grab at radio airplay (”555″), and generally find the album to be completely badass. Kudos to JEW for proving they still belong in the upper echelon of emo and rock.

THE GET UP KIDS: “Problems”

released May 10 via Polyvinyl Record Co.

...speaking of comeback records...well, maybe that’s not quite accurate, but this was another surprise from a band I grew up loving that had largely lapses in my regular rotation. I guess 2019 had a theme of revisiting bands of my youth due to them reforming, doing anniversary tours, or releasing new music for the first time in ages. The Get Up Kids fly back to the heights of old with a manic punk barrage of joy. It’s probably my fault for not keeping tabs on these guys, but this record is gutsy and charming and lovely. It’s not really reinventing the wheel, but GUK basically constructed the wheel to begin with, so we really owe them more credit all around.

BARS OF GOLD: “Shelters”

released April 12 via Equal Vision Records

Bars of Gold have been an enigma of sorts throughout their existence. Largely well-known due to rising from the ashes of indie / screamo miasma BEARVSSHARK, the band is content to rest on their laurels and release music and play shows whenever they feel like it, largely due to family and other commitments. This leaves fans like me tripping over their own feet whenever something does come out. The Michiganders truly feel like a group of dads finding the one day a month when they all have a free evening to plug in their guitars and whip up some chaos, and it’s always fun to see the results. Marc Paffi has also always been one of my favorite vocalists, so the opportunity to hear his wacky lyrics and throat is always cherished. Here’s hoping we don’t need to wait 5 or so years for another album, but patience has been rewarded with these guys.

ORIGAMI ANGEL: “Somewhere City”

released November 15th via Chatterbot Records

Props to my buddy Steve Lee for turning me on to this band (as well as 2 others in my top 5). Origami Angel are one of those bands that defies logic: “How can two dudes make so much noise?”, “How can he play guitar like that while singing?”, “How did these guys put out one of the best indie rock records of the year seemingly out of nowhere?”, etc. Regardless of any questions, I was floored by this album and it was definitely the band I listened to the most for the last part of the year. It’s catchy, diverse, well-rounded and doesn’t overstay its welcome by being just under 30 minutes long with all the fat trimmed off. What more could you want?

PEDRO THE LION: “Phoenix”

released January 18 via Polyvinyl Record Co.

I had a strange moment at some point this year where I found a YouTube video of David Bazan performing a song from Pedro The Lion’s first release (2001′s It’s Hard To Find a Friend”). I was struck by how different his voice sounded nearly 2 decades later thanks to touring and life in general. It certainly was not a bad change, but just one that struck me as a sign of the passage of time. That sort of nostalgia and reflection is all over “Phoenix”, which is largely Bazan dusting off his childhood diary and describing memories of his hometown, tales of school, church, regret, family, plans and tragedies. It’s a celebration of memories, lessons learned and where one comes from, and Bazan’s direct delivery and brilliant-yet-understated lyrics paint perfect pictures. Hopefully it doesn’t take us over a decade for another Pedro release, but Bazan and company cement their status as songwriters and storytellers with this release.

PUP: “Morbid Stuff”

released April 5 via Rise Records and Little Dipper

PUP was a new phenomenon for me this year. These Canadian rockers are full of piss and vinegar, supercharging a sound that is simultaneously infectious and off-putting in the best possible way. They take a genre that can be same-y and repetitive and inject a lesser band’s whole back-catalogues’ worth of creativity and energy, leaving the listener enthralled and endlessly guessing what will happen next. Vocalist Stefan Babcock takes some getting used to, but his permanent-sneer delivery and slam poetry has a charm that compliments his playful and honest lyrics. However, it’s the moments where he busts out of his speak-singing or general hollering to delivery a super catchy hook or chorus that truly put him at another level and proves PUP to be one of the most exciting things to happen in the punk and rock genre.

MASKED INTRUDER: “III”

released March 1 via Pure Noise Records

With the exception of Unwed Sailor, this was my most anticipated record of 2019. Masked Intruder is one of those bands I listen to constantly. I usually default to putting my iTunes or Spotify on shuffle, and find it always makes me happier. For “III” the band hotwired their usual fun, tongue-in-cheek poperpop and craft a pretty perfect record in the process. Previous MI albums had a skippable track here and there, but this one is all killer, no filler. I’ve always adored the underlying Motown or doo-wop foundations in their songwriting and vocal harmonies, which add a timeless throwback quality to their song structures. The heart-on-sleeve lonely lyrics and constant references to petty crimes and best-laid plans are the icing on the top of this sugary musical sundae. It might be irreverent and occasionally basic, but sometimes that is all I wanted in music, and these guys delivered it in spades with this record.

FREE THROW: “What’s Past is Prologue”

released March 29 via Triple Crown Records

From the opposite end of the emotional spectrum, Nashville’s Free Throw released a quality emo record that doesn’t focus on pining for lost loves or revisiting relationship heartbreak and instead dives into one’s personal mental health and well-being. Props to vocalist Cory Castro and the rest of the band for completely baring all and channeling their honesty into this powerhouse album. However, there’s also plenty of diversity in the band’s sound and delivery. No song really sounds like the next, largely thanks to the band employing 3 guitar players who rarely play the same thing as each other. Some emo staples are here, though, such as frenetic drumming, clever tapping riffs, and stripped down moments with just a guitar and Castro’s vocals. All in all, this record makes you feel better about yourself and truly feels like the band came to the same conclusion while making it, which is gargantuan. When Castro belts out “TODAY I FINALLY LEARNED TO SAY I LOVE MYSELF” towards the end of the album-closing title track, you can’t help but root for him in his own journey towards mental health, but to not feel inspiring to do the same for yourself. It will encourage and inspire you, and feels deeply personal and universal all at the same time.

SNOOZE: “Familiaris”

Self-released by the band on May 3

There were so many times during this past year where I’d be driving, doing chores, at the gym or doing some sort of menial task where I’d decide to put on music and stop myself short of putting on this record again. I’d say “OK, you have to listen to something else besides the Snooze album. You’re doing to get sick of it if you keep listening to it this much. We don’t want that to happen.” Despite these odd concerns, I can say that this truly never happened. This album is effortlessly relistenable to me and has become my anti-depressant. I can’t help but feel charged up on happiness and charm while this is playing. It’s so chock full of killer vocal harmonies, clever yet crazy guitar riffs, well-restrained double-bass fills and brilliant song arrangements. It’s also a cyclical record, meaning one song runs right into the next and the end of the album theoretically plays right into the start, which makes turning it off quite difficult indeed. Add to all this the fact that it’s a concept album about how amazing dogs are, and you’re left with a spellbinding listening experience. This is one of the best records I’ve heard this decade, let alone this year, and essentially locked its place as my album of the year during my first playthru. Well done, Snooze. Who’s a good boy?

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albumtalks · 7 years

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Review: Bearpark - What Goes On In Our Souffles

Artist: Bearpark Album: What Goes On In Our Souffles Release: Jul 14, 2017 (UK) / Jul 17, 2017 (International) Label: Independent Genre: Garage/Indie Rock Length: 42:20 Track Listing:

Household Appliances Are Of Poor Quality (2:19)

What Goes On (Inside Our Souffles) (5:20)

Various Colored Threads (3:15)

Choke Them Out With Virtues (2:21)

Helpin' My Uncle Like a Bastard (6:01)

Clever Librarian (feat. Tupac) (4:47)

Looking For Snacks (0:43)

NATO - No Action, Talk Only (8:26)

Exclamation of Disappointed Surprise (4:10)

Outbreak of Salmonella Every Five Minutes (6:08)

When talking about the new renaissance of Garage Rock-inspired Indie Pop, pioneer trio Bearpark is always one of the first names on anyone's lips, and that's why it shouldn't be surprising that their first full-length album in nearly 16 years has been a hot topic lately. After their constant streams of EPs and singles stopped in 2005 they hadn't been heard from, aside from a brief stint touring with Florence + The Machine and Garbage in 2013. Yet suddenly, fans got a tantalizing social media post announcing a tentative "July 2017" release date, it quickly hit "Trending Worldwide" on Twitter and was the talk of music media for weeks. But without a single word of update from the band or label fan enthusiasm quickly turned to confusion. Was the long-awaited new Bearpark album some kind of bizarre prank? Well, sixteen long months of waiting later, and we finally have an answer. But the question still hanging in the air is a big one: Is it worth the wait?

The answer is a resounding "ehh" sound, and utter befuddlement. Bearpark have chosen to eschew all labels and make something so vastly unlike their previous material that it's hard to even feel right calling it a Bearpark album at all. Especially confusing is how all the elements are present in spades (in particular the raspy, desperate yells of lead singer Brian Humphreys and the unhinged solos of guitarist Reynolds Johansson) but somehow it sounds like another band altogether composed these songs and Bearpark is simply covering them.

Household Appliances kicks the album off with a promising garage-rock riff that sounds like an outtake from Bearpark's debut album, and a vocal line that kicks off almost immediately with a direct delivery reminiscent of They Might Be Giants. But in its short 2-minute runtime it doesn't express much of an idea and sputters to a stop before going anywhere interesting, leading directly into the fast-paced drums that open title track What Goes On. Of course by now this song (and album's only single to date) has seen its fair share of radio play, and it isn't a bit surprising considering the generally infectious rhythm and some of the most coherent and memorable lyrics of the band's catalogue. The deviation from the band's less radio-friendly roots is actually welcome, although the addition of an (uncredited) keyboardist feels entirely forced.

The album lumbers on after that with three completely forgettable songs, the mid-tempo rocker Various Colored Threads and the slow, sappy acoustic duo of Choke Them Out With Virtues and Helpin' My Uncle Like a Bastard, which are so unnecessarily similar in tempo and composition that I was, on first listen, completely unaware they weren't a single, overlong track. Luckily the last minute of Helpin' picks up the tempo and adds some layered synths to liven things up, but it's much too little too late, not to mention completely out of place.

Clever Librarian (feat. Tupac) comes plodding in after as a solid example of the cover-band sound the band has taken for this album, with a composition that weaves back and forth between sounding like a folksy new Mumford & Sons track and a swaggering-but-forgettable Rolling Stones B-side. It's not a bad track but you'll probably find yourself reaching for a copy of Sticky Fingers to play instead. Showing the band's bizarre sense of humor, rapper Tupac is entirely absent from the track despite its name, but short interlude/skit Looking For Snacks makes a note of this discrepancy as the track features the sound of drummer Phil Veer seemingly rummaging through a refrigerator while talking to his agent on the phone, asking "Can we get Tupac to guest on the album?" before learning, to his dismay, that the artist in question is long dead.

The first and only genuinely guitar-driven track on the album, NATO - No Action, Talk Only, launches into gear immediately with a rare instance of the band utilizing multiple guitars as guest axeman Tommy Filbilt (from sister band Wisconsin & Southern and Post-Grunge supergroup Bottom Rock) starts the track by rampaging a searing solo atop a beating drum line and driving arena-rock riff. It could be either a lost Scorpions or KISS classic for the first 45 seconds but NATO instead slows into a middle-fast-paced rhythm and starts to take on more of that depression-laden Bearpark sound just in time for the vocals to kick in. The song doesn't let a traditional structure hold it down, instead ditching “verse-chorus-repeat” in favor of a campfire-story-esque lyrical structure as Humphreys aggressively belts out a tale of a soldier's love that blossoms and tragically withers. A true highlight of the album, but its extended length sometimes feels unnecessary as Johansson and Filbilt's dueling guitar interplay drags on solely for the sake of time without leaving behind any memorable moments. NATO winds up being a high point for the album that could really shine with a producer who knows when to cut a track to size.

The last two tracks of the album immediately put the brakes on any hopes you might have had about the band's return to their rock-heavy style, however, as they instead present a muddy synth-heavy sound that strays much farther from the Bearpark we know than ever before. Instrumental track Exclamation of Disappointed Surprise starts with a heartbeat sound that maintains to the finish, gradually being smothered under increasingly dense electronic orchestration and a winding guitar line that doesn't seem to know where it wants to go. Under other circumstances this might be a fascinating experimental jam session but it leads seamlessly into the overly-synthetic Outbreak of Salmonella Every Five Minutes, which adds auto-tune (yikes) and a drum machine to the mix to fully push the album out of a rock mindset.

If you came into the album looking for a sequel Bearpark's last few albums you'll probably be disappointed, but for new fans or a music aficionado looking for something unique it might just scratch an itch. Unfortunately it just couldn't capture me the way their older music did, and I see myself skipping all of Souffles the next time I spin their discography.

~Richard M.

#bearpark #garage rock #indie rock #music review

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nofomoartworld · 7 years

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Hyperallergic: Arcade Fire Gives Up on Life

To learn how crushingly the new Arcade Fire album has disappointed fans, critics, and providers of online content, one need only glance at their Metacritic page. To fully comprehend why requires several listens, each more dumbfounding than the last. Anyone who associates the band with uplift will find the new Everything Now, out since July, an enervating thing: a sniveling black hole of negativity, littered with ostensible protest songs aiming to critique societal problems from a soapbox ten million miles above their fanbase. “Infinite Content,” for example, jolts over a straightforward punkish beat as lead rock hero Win Butler repeats the same line over and over: “Infinite content/infinite content/we’re infinitely content.” Get it? “Content” meaning posts on social media, but he’s making a pun on “content” the adjective! He’s calling out the emptiness of our technology-addicted lives! He doesn’t think we’re infinitely content at all–he thinks the internet lulls us into a false sense of security! The next song, a slower, sweeter country-tinged jangler, is also called “Infinite_Content”, with the same exact lyric, except they’ve added an underscore to the title. Get it? Computers!

These songs baffle the critical faculties. To state point blank that “Infinite Content” and “Infinite_Content” aren’t clever is to belabor the self-evident. Likewise, calling Everything Now a failed stab at profundity feels as productive as feigning shock that the current president said something vile and semiliterate in the media yesterday. How exactly the band wound up here is the relevant question.

I won’t mimic the consensus and call Arcade Fire a great band undone by sanctimony when they’ve been bombastic and heavy-handed since day one. Since their beloved debut, Funeral (2004), they’ve specialized in spacious, grandly beautiful rock anthems, undercut by specific deflationary moments of bathos that could easily have been excised. Funeral’s “Wake Up,” widely considered their greatest and most moving song, soars over rhythmic power chords, acoustic classical instruments from violin to accordion, and a massive, wordless football chant of a chorus. The effect rouses — right up to when Butler, pumping his figurative fist, ends a verse by screaming “I guess we’ll just have to adjuuuuuuuust” as if expecting cheers from all the young adults in the audience who’ve felt growing pains, whereupon the mushy qualifiers (“I guess”) and the weak verb (“adjust”) collapse under the weight of the anthemic moment. Often they powered through anyway. Their second album, the scary, deeply felt Neon Bible (2007), infamously recorded in an abandoned church, uses the consequently murky sound to simulate a humming, ominous “Ocean of Noise.” Guitars and pianos and booming organ and, by metaphorical extension, the entire world, all crash down apocalyptically around them, lending physical reality to the political urgency of their songwriting. The Suburbs (2010), a relaxed, rhapsodic variant on the same classically textured arena-rock blend, is pretty enough, at least to compensate for an overlong running time and the band’s labored attempt to make a definitive statement on maturity, adolescence, and the decline of tradition in the modern world. But ever since Pitchfork anointed them voices of a generation — articulating the existential anxieties of kids who grow up, move to the city, and struggle with adulthood and their place on the traditionalism/modernity axis — they’ve always felt the weight of the world more heavily on their shoulders than any band deserves or should presume. Condescending social commentary by a large, communitarian band of Canadian art-rockers will inspire nobody in 2017. Music that once swept and thundered has turned tighter, harsher, and more unpleasant. Songwriting that once voiced progressive resolution now howls with conservative despair.

To students of rock history, Everything Now and its predecessor, Reflektor (2013), will sound awfully familiar: didn’t U2 already make these albums in the ‘90s? Arcade Fire’s career arc resembles U2’s exactly: insufferably earnest arena-rock band starts out sincere, anthemic, grandiose before tiring of their own reputation and deciding to embrace electronics, irony, and such. My, how history repeats itself. It must embarrass fans across the global indie-rock community that U2 did it better; few bands anywhere have matched the sonically warped, chemically tainted, wacky garish neon fury of “The Fly” and “Staring at the Sun.” Reflektor and Everything Now, meanwhile, stand as definitive proof that those who don’t know what irony is shouldn’t dabble in it. While rock-conventional song structures still dominate, both records abound with glittery synthesizer, honking horns, jaggedy postpunk beats, dancier tempos and textures, really, anything to prove they’re not some stodgy old rock band, they’re cool. They display no aesthetic commitment to these musical usages themselves, flaunting them instead as tokens of edge, an association that works only when being a stodgy old rock band is the backdrop.

Despite many flatfooted attempts at disco and the unfortunate choice to follow a song called “Hey Eurydice” with “Hey Orpheus,” Reflektor occasionally sparkles, primarily on the soaring guitars of “Normal Person” and the xylophone-backed nursery rhymes of “Here Comes the Night Time.” On Everything Now the musical blend curdles utterly. The glowing keyboards, dinky flutes, angry rhythm guitar parts, assembled sound effects, and the like are incorporated poorly, failing to mesh with the grander rock structures that subsume them, sticking out like otiose clip-on accessories. The resulting music is awkward, pinched, and ugly. “Signs of Life,” whose death-march bassline is repeated exactly by an abrasive horn section, epitomizes a cramped strain that is now the band’s operative mode. “Creature Comfort” is perhaps definitive: the song’s cheerfully affectless guitar riff plus synth squelch, combined with Butler’s declamatory talk-singing, aim to evoke classic dancepop, New Order’s “Temptation” maybe. The talk-singing more closely resembles an eager parody of a) white singers trying to sound rhythmically astute; b) Bono’s vocal delivery on “Hawkmoon 269”; c) Arcade Fire’s prior output.

That’s to say nothing of the lyrics. “Creature Comfort” is an anti-suicide plea ambiguous enough not to specify whether the band’s own “first record” saved a fan from suicide or drove her to it. There’s no empathy; the person in question is treated like a cautionary tale to wring one’s hands over. I count two songs on Everything Now that haven’t completely given up on life: “Peter Pan,” whose plinked keyboards and funkoid bassline are sparse enough to let the song’s emotion breathe, and the penultimate “We Don’t Deserve Love,” whose climactic descending guitar hook suits both the queasy synth noodling in the verse and the quiet pathos of a romantic anthem that, after an album’s worth of vitriol, aims to establish love as humanity’s redeeming factor. As for the vitriol, it’s disheartening. Once they wrote compassionately and from experience, especially on The Suburbs; their grand proclamations about alienation and adulthood were delivered by narrators implied to have lived through such processes. The songs on Everything Now diagnose the evils of millennials — kids these days! — from the voice of an older man who knows everything. Few things are more tedious than a band lecturing their fanbase on the fanbase’s moral failings and the necessity for everyone to act more like the band. Which song is the most insulting, you ask? Is it the title track, whose blandly suburban mall keyboards accompany a rant against information overload and the media-literate? Is it “Chemistry,” a rhythmically wooden reggae-inflected blues-rocker that lists cliched pickup lines as if revealing something deep and horrifying about gender relations? I vote for “Signs of Life,” a lament for the supposedly repetitious, joyless ritual that is party culture: “Spend your life waiting in line/you find it hard to define/but you do it every time/then you do it again/looking for signs of life/looking for signs every night/but there’s no signs of life/so we do it again.”

Ah — the futility of hedonism! The misery of affluence! Cool kids who pretend to have fun because everyone else does, but secretly feel empty inside! Where have we heard this before? From Halsey, from Lorde, from Frank Ocean, from Drake, from the Weeknd, from the fucking Chainsmokers. With Everything Now, Arcade Fire joins the vast litany of artists who’ve taken it upon themselves to explain Why Modern Kids Suffer and Why Millennials are Ruining Society. That they exempt themselves from their social critique, unlike the aforementioned artists, proves only that exclusionary indie elitism is alive and well. Listening to Neon Bible in the wake of Everything Now perturbs; one wonders if their urge to hide under the covers from the “ocean of violence” outside really targeted Bush, or if the chaotic entanglements of modern life just offended their regressive notions of purity. Their earlier albums surged with positive energy, while Everything Now is the bad album that previous good albums made inevitable. A collapse from idealism into cynicism should surprise nobody. Those who believe in false if rousing ideals can inspire, as Arcade Fire has in the past, and that they’ve gradually become bitter over 13 years after being disappointed in such ideals doesn’t mean they no longer believe in them. On the contrary, they hate the world for not living up to how it should be. Idealism, cynicism, these are not opposites — it just depends on whether the sentimental idiot in question is in a good or bad mood.

Tellingly, their famously energetic live show transcends the negativity of the record. Playing to a festival crowd at Lollapalooza this year, they jumped around, traded instruments, conjured uplift from despair, and generally made joyous, triumphant, cathartic noise. Behold — a welcome sign that they still believe in humanity. I hope their next album, also, yields such evidence.

Everything Now (2017) and Reflektor (2015) are available from Amazon and other online retailers.

The post Arcade Fire Gives Up on Life appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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