Friday, December 27, 2019

Get Bleak, Joe


Almost an entire year ago, I donated a negligible amount of money to the Natural Resources Defense Council. Every week for the past twelve months, the NRDC has sent me mail, big bulky packages, menial gifts, requests for more support. I'd hate to say that I don't care—I wouldn't have donated at all if I didn't—but my level of support does not match the amount of pestering I receive. I support the mission. I'll read the packets and think "Yeah, this makes sense, I should do something," but then five minutes later, my mind is thinking about something else. Come early 2020, I'll donate a little more to the NRDC, feel good about it for a bit, and then drown in junk mail.

Why am I burying the lede in this particular way for Get Bleak? I dunno. Maybe the fact that the band shares their name with another environmental nonprofit has forced my mind to connect the two. More likely, I feel the same way about the NRDC that I do about jangle pop.

I support the mission. Rooted in the tradition of the Beatles and the Byrds, jangle pop is buoyant and fun, splashed all over with high-treble guitars and pleasant medium-quick tempos. When I'm listening to jangle, I'm in love. I fucking get it.

But rarely does this type of music make a measurable long-term impact on my musical habits. Maybe it's the fact that most of it sounds the same (Ducks Unlimited are certainly no exception). Maybe I'm just not feeling too much because the album is over in twelve minutes. Most likely it's just that it is very possible to be enjoyable and insubstantial at the same time, and Get Bleak proves it.

This is average. There is "good average" and "bad average," and this is definitely the former. But still.

GRADE: 2.5 pukes out of 5

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