Friday, March 31, 2023

The Art of Forgetting, Sunny


"I just gotta do my thing / And shake it off."

A classic album conceit: a grief processing album for ostensibly the grief of a broken relationship, but also the general grief of current living. The Art of Forgetting spans between air-y space-y indie sound (tacks in the front half—see "Love/Lover/Friend" & "Rebirth") to a more earth-y down-the-middle indie rock outfit (tacks in the back half—"Tell Me" & "Where Do I Go"). In addition to playing with the sonic presentation, there's a thematic/emotional push and pull; a sort of two steps forward one step back, which is played around with a few times (e.g. "Bring the Rain" to "Doldrums").

So, does that work as an album? It feels somewhat true to life in that grief isn't an A-to-B process but rather a set of fits and starts which transmute into larger acceptance. So, that's cool. At ~50min, there's gonna be some slack, some forgettable tracks, and some adventures that I just don't connect with. There are also a couple fun, bouncy earworms that I've found myself humming all week (e.g. the epigraph). So, not amazing enough to go to Union Transfer 4/11, but pretty good, and an artist I'm glad I'm now aware of.

P.S. I will give a nod to the "skits" here (for lack of better word)—an extended string of voicemails from CR's meemaw and ultimately a call back. Fairly sweet—they do a nice job of keeping the album "up" when it may otherwise get too sad, and the final taste at the end leaves a tone of hope after a discourse on a lot of tough and varied emotions.

P.P.S. I could also go for a grilled cheese sandwich and some chips and stuff. Somehow, it would help me get through this life.

The Art of Forgetting, Sam


Caroline Rose goes for a thing here. There's intention to the lyrics, production, and the running gag of voicemails left by their grandma(?). I've always been violently anti-skit (certainly been a barrier to some rap albums), but I appreciate the intentionality they employ in the longing, guilt-trip messages. At times, though, the grandma asking to be called back is more interesting than what Rose is saying in between.

The music here, at worst, is bland Animal Collective meets Sufjan Stevens. At best, as exemplified by "Miami" and "Better Than Gold," Rose carves their own brand of fun and mournful pop music. But it's more the former than the latter. We are left with these bland, electronic dirges that begged to be skipped.

Stripped down, Rose excels playing actual instruments. Their (less) produced vocals bounce well off people banging real drums verses them yelling into a soundscape. The Art of Forgetting is mostly forgettable with some moments of near transcendence. That makes for songs that standout on a cool playlist but lacks cohesion on an album, grandma be damned.

The Art of Forgetting, Nate


Sex will not save you. Friendship will not redeem you. The harp will not satisfy you. So it goes with C. Rose, moody music for a moody audience, the community of the wallow.

The Art of Forgetting, Zach


Caroline Rose's music is kind of like riding a wave full of bright taffy candy. The wave tosses and turns, but there's no danger. You just want to roll around in wrappers. If you get lucky, one of the candies will haphazardly open and you'll even be able to feel artificial yellow coloring, burning your skin in the most pleasant way possible. I felt pangs of nostalgia listening to this, but it doesn't come close to the nostalgia a '90s kid would feel listening to something from even, say, 2009. Still, the factor remains. Caroline Rose goes for it pretty clearly with clips of what is ostensibly her grandmother telling her she loves her in the way only an American grandmother can—casual, but just slightly intense and wood-paneled. 

I like the way "The Kiss" plays the role of a mysterious character before later being revealed as "the kiss of someone new." I think we all have that feeling, and as a single person I wonder what it's like to go under the chuppah and realize that you might never kiss another person again in your whole life. It's scary to feel that potentially being taken away from me—it feels like part of my identity somehow.

This album definitely trends toward the narcissistic side, but I kind of like it. Without it there would be no magic here.

Enough about all this. It's a pleasant solid album to listen, for all kinds of moods. I like it.

The Art of Forgetting, Gary


I always wondered how artists decided what they were going to call their album. I feel like The Art of Forgetting is the perfect title to put to some of these songs. After the first couple of songs I thought, "I'm going to forget this RC artist forever. This is trash."

Then a couple more songs went by. And I thought, "This makes me miss getting high. I would have loved this sound as I sit in my parents' basement and just forgetting the thing I was even talking about."

Then a couple songs... er... voicemails later, and I wondered if the grandmom forgot she ever called the person she loved. 

And then something amazing happened. "Everywhere I Go I Bring the Rain" played. And I realized that they don't give a shit about what kind of genre they are. Because "EIGIBtR" was outstanding music. 

Then the rest of the album kind of followed suit in a roller coaster of good to decent songs. "The Kiss" had beautiful lyrics that made me think of young Gary who just wanted to be loved, to be kissed. 

Then we're back to the grandmom's voicemail. And I wonder if these were real, or if someone's grandmom passed. And they just want to make sure they hold on to these voicemails to feel like she never left. 

And then the rest of the album is pretty damn good. A Beatles vibe with some Flaming Lips thrown in. I'm happy that I gave the album a chance though. At the end of the day, I won't be forgetting Caroline Rose any time soon. And I appreciate the journey she took me on. 

7 basement adventures out of 10

The Art of Forgetting, Rachel S.


Hey!

I liked this! 

Was it something really new and exciting? Not really! Was it familiar to Perfume Genius, King Princess, Fiona Apple, Phoebe Bridgers, et al? Sure! Was it a little heavy handed with the voicemails? Absolutely!

But you know what? None of that really retracted from my ability to enjoy the ride. A deceptively moody indie album, wrapped in nostalgia. It's a great album for feeling wistful, maybe staring out a rainy window to, you know? Vibes, as the kids might say.

If nothing else, I got an absolute kick out of the artist's name because I have a friend by the same name who is famously, deeply disinterested in music.

The Art of Forgetting, Joe


"Hi, my little Cornbread. I'm sitting here in the Florida room, thinking about you. Worrying about you, more like it. Me and your grandpa are worried because we just listened to your new album. Is everything alright? You don't seem like yourself recently. So we're checking in because we're real worried, that's all. Our worries are twofold.
 
"First, it definitely sounds like you're hurting, Cornbread. You're talking about 'always bringing the rain.' Is that supposed to be a metaphor? That's supposed to be a metaphor for no one appreciating you? Because to me and your gramps, it always seems like you bring the sunshine! When you're yelling 'I'm becoming someone else' on 'Tell Me What You Want,' that makes me sad, because we liked you just the way you were. And on 'The Doldrums,' you're talking about finding 'silence from the noise in my head.' Where's the noise coming from? Are you seeing your therapist still? What's her name? Jill?
 
"And we know you said you're 'doing fine' on 'Miami,' even calling out to your mother by name... look, we're all just worried, okay? Is it okay for a grandma to be worried about her granddaughter? I'm sorry that I keep calling you to check in, but can you blame me? You just released a whole album about how sad you are. Someone even told me that you spent the whole week in bed, and all you had to show for it was one song and a whole lot of depression. That worries me, Cornbread. I just want you to be happy.

"But so the other worry that I'm calling about is that the music itself isn't as happy as it used to be either. You know we support you with whatever you want to do, Cornbread, but do you really think people are going to be into this type of sad, depressing music? I'm no music critic, of course, but I have my doubts. It makes sense artistically to have a sad album sound sad, but I wonder if people might not want to feel happy sometimes too? Don't you want to feel happy? Remember when you used to have fun? You were so goofy and eccentric on LONER. I feel like people really connected to that. Maybe some folks are gonna have a hard time connecting to this new one.

"I know you're trying, Cornbread. I can hear it in the aforementioned 'Everywhere I Go I Bring the Rain,' that old spirit of yours. The way you say 'You'll never run away from your pain' is disheartening, but laying it against the sonic backdrop of upbeat synth music, the juxtaposition sits nicely. It's like you're saying you can't run away from your pain, so maybe you're gonna try dancing away from the pain. And there are definitely some moments that remind me of other artists that seem to have a handle on the elements of doing the sad-music thing. I hear some Bon Iver and some Phosphorescent here and there, which is definitely a new sound for you. The drums sound like that old band the Dodos, who stunk. Don't do drumming like that. Still, though, all of those things do add up to something more than the morose boring stuff that fills up a lot of this album. If and when it shows up.

"But those moments are few and far between for you on this album, and that's what worries me. It's like, you can be as sad as you want in the context of creating music, but unless you occasionally play it off ironically, then all the audience is going to do is worry about you. We listened to an album by this artist named Jetty Bones recently. She didn't have the same talent or charisma as you do, Cornbread, but she was able to at least take care of her listeners' emotions instead of dragging them down with her.  Dark thoughts can be scary, but you need to create an environment in which the listener can meet you halfway at least.
 
"I saw that your therapist asked you if you think all this is a weakness. What do you think? Me, I think there's value in resiliency. I know that, Cornbread. I know you're resilient, and I know you're going to make it through. And who knows, maybe you're doing fine, and this is all an act, and you're just writing sad songs while you're happy and naked in the studio and free. Maybe you think that focusing on the negatives is going to be helpful in some way. Or maybe I should take seriously your final song, 'Where Do I Go from Here?', in which you describe all this as just a moment in time, a snapshot, one for the pyre of memories, one to be forgotten. I hope one day you can forget about all those negative feelings that are attaching themselves to you, Cornbread. I fear too that one day, I'll forget about this new album of yours, but that will hopefully be because you are free from the pain, and can move past it, and can create something joyous again. Remember that? Remember how much fun you used to have?

"This voicemail is getting a little lengthy, but I do hope that you're not going to record it and use it on your next album. You always take everything I say out of context. I'm here to say I'm worried. I'm not here to just say 'Caroline, I just wanna talk to ya, I've been thinkin' about you all day, and I thought about you yesterday, and I wanna to talk to ya, you give me a call if you get a chance, I love you, bye' anything like that. That's all true but that's not the point I'm trying to make here. Please don't dismiss everything else I'm trying to say in the voicemail. I'm worried. You need help. I can tell from your music. It's obvious. Please call me."

GRADE: 2 pukes out of 5

Thursday, March 30, 2023

The Ghost of @josephk***: March 2023

I had to do a paper for one of my classes in which I had to discuss an "activist" on "social media." This fucking syllabus seriously tried telling me to "follow an activist on a social media platform this semester." Fuck out of here with that shit.

Instead of reading six pages of bullshit churned out to get a stupid ass master's degree, I will instead be dropping my tweets for the month, which are "tweeted" on the blog now instead of my Twitter account, which no longer exists.

Eventually I won't have to use this stupid shit as my "blog post of the day," like eventually it'll just be supplementary material. But for right now, it's all the content you're getting today, since my time is otherwise devoted to writing stupid six-page papers about egotistical hashtag activism.

Wednesday, March 29, 2023

King Tuff @ Johnny Brenda's — 3/22/23

stolen from XPN's review, which I did not read until this blog post was complete

It's really interesting to consider an artist like King Tuff in a live setting. If you listened to his first album—Was Dead, covered by Record Club, and ostensibly the reason that three RC members were here in the first place—and then his most recent album—Smalltown Stardust, released January 2023, fifteen years after Was Dead—then you would be forgiven in thinking that they are made by two different artists. What started as garage rock in its purest form has gradually morphed into something way more psychedelic.

The garage rockers of his first three albums are probably preferable, but the weird and wild sounds of Smalltown Stardust and The Other are worthy in their own right. The only reason I bring it up, though, is that those two sounds had the potential to feel uncomfortable propped up next to each other at a live concert. Of course the band would be playing cuts from the most recent LP, but would that mean some of the classics from the self-titled masterpiece would be left out by necessity? Or could the band seamlessly transition from song to song?

Honestly, what King Tuff and his backing band did was even better—they just cranked up the speed and energy of the new songs, basically layering the garage rock crunch back on top of the psychedelic sheen of the newer songs. E.g. "Portrait of God" goes from cutesy psych ditty to big-tent Lynyrd Skynyrd rocker. It was fucking awesome, yo. Best case scenario right here. What a rollicking fun time. That's probably the big reason why a bootleg audio recording of the concert is essential in this scenario, despite its shitty quality. The versions found here at times surpass the versions found on the album proper. That's worth documenting.

Some other shit to listen for on this recording: 1) Drummer Corey Rose did a great job. She was all business. Kinda gave off some Charlie Watts vibes with her demeanor, but she was way more technically proficient than that dude could ever dream of being. In other words: she did not suck ass. It was a joy watching her frown through some really wild drumming. 2) The other backing musicians were on point as well. Noel Friesen brought the guitar theatrics with a certain coolness. Bassist Erica Shafer proved that girl bassists are the best bassists (I walked passed her on the way out and was about fourteen beers short of having the courage to tell her she did a good job). 3) The over/under for how many Was Dead songs would be played was set at 1.5 songs. He played two! I would have lost that bet! 4) Some dude got a shout out from King Tuff before "Pebbles in a Stream" because his friends were yelling his name. Please note here that both Steve and his friends were complete fucking assholes. It's already a small venue, but when the concert started, they bumrushed the stage, spilling beer on Sunny's jacket. Sam talked a big game about kicking the one dude's ass after the show, and I think in this case he could've done it. Don't give these jabronis a shout out from the stage, King Tuff! 5) There were a bunch of senior citizens on the second-floor balcony, and I figured that we'd get to the bottom of that mystery before the end of the show. Sure enough, we find out halfway through that these are King Tuff's aunts and uncles from Cherry Hill. 6) There was a really great bit 2/3rds of the way through. First, King Tuff is like "I forgot something backstage," which is suspicious, but whatever. He lets the band play "whatever the audience requests." A request is accepted for a Todd Rundgren song, so Noel is like "here is our favorite Rundgren song," and they play... Weezer's "Undone (The Sweater Song)." It was really fun. Then the bit was complete when King Tuff comes back out, and he reveals what he "forgot"—his classic wizard outfit. 6b) I'm not usually the type of guy who is going to care about a costume change or whatever, but the goofy ass Halloween costume-quality wizard robes really made sense in the context of this concert. A sense of childlike joy and glee pervaded everything about this show. I had a really good time.

Even though there were only three Record Club members in attendance, I'd argue that this was a successful idea, and I'm willing to try it again this summer, if anyone wants to give it a go for a different artist/album.


SETLIST
00:00:53 — "Smalltown Stardust"
00:04:56 — "Love Letters to Plants"
00:13:06 — "The Bandits of Blue Sky"
00:17:25 — "Psycho Star"
00:22:29 — "Tell Me"
00:27:15 — "Pebbles in a Stream"
00:31:58 — "Portrait of God"
00:36:25 — "Rock River"
00:40:20 — "Freak When I'm Dead"
00:43:58 — "Always Find Me"
00:49:28 — "The Wheel"
00:56:36 — "Undone (The Sweater Song)" (Weezer cover)
00:59:20 — "Black Moon Spell"
01:04:15 — "Sun Medallion"
01:06:52 — "Anthem"
ENCORE
01:12:30 — "I Love You Ugly"
01:13:49 — "Bad Thing"

Tuesday, March 28, 2023

A Year of Blind Spots: Tha Carter III


Tha Carter III
Lil Wayne
2008

If I've worn armor to protect myself from hip hop in my youth, then Lil Wayne was a chink in that armor. Not that I was a fully-fledged fan—hence the "blind spot"—but I knew even during my years of all-indie-all-the-time that this was an artist worth following. 

Those feelings can be chalked up to the fact that Lil Wayne can be really funny and charming and charismatic under certain circumstances, and those attributes go a long way when it comes to music. It's more stupid-funny than smart-funny, but there's value in that. I laughed a lot when listening to Tha Carter III this week. I laughed because I couldn't believe how dumb some of this stuff is (but on purpose, I assume—he's in on the joke). 

On the #1 hit "Lollipop," for instance, there's that line where he tells a girl to back her ass up, and then attempts to make the sound of a truck backing up, which ends up sounding like "urp, urp." Then he tries to rhyme with that sound by turning "jump, jump" into "jermp, jermp." And then let's not forget that all this is via autotune, which adds to the bit. Like, this is the first time in my life I can point to autotune and say that it added something tangible to the music. It's all fairly ridiculous.

The production is all over the place, which is a good thing. It's not scattershot, it's purposefully varied. I think this is the way in which we can contrast Tha Carter III to some of the other classic rap albums we've run through this year. For artists like Wu-Tang, Biggie, and 2Pac, I was able to describe their sound and have that description apply to the whole album. That might be impossible with Lil Wayne. The only constant is his slurred but buoyant rhyming. The rapping is layered on top of everything from lounge jazz to chiptune soul to children schoolyard chants to those cheap compressed trumpet sounds that Young Money seems to favor. Lil Wayne is a constant, but the presence of a dozen different producers means that you still don't really know what to expect from each song until the beat hits. Not saying that this is better or worse than the consistency of any other classic hip hop, it's just different. (And it's okay to compare Lil Wayne to rappers like Biggie and 2Pac because Lil Wayne does it first himself, on this album. So does Jay-Z, but we'll get to him in this column pretty soon.)

So let's also contend with the fact that, because of that variation, some of this shit works and some of it doesn't, most of the time within the same song. There are countless examples.

"Dr. Carter" is interesting because of the orchestral jazz production, but probably overstays its welcome a bit with the hospital skit interludes. "Phone Home" is weirdly hypnotic, in that the chorus starts as brash and annoying but eventually seeps into your skin. "You Ain't Got Nuthin" goes hard, and might've been a standout had it not been toward the end of the album, when my energy is lagging.

Then there are songs that feel wrong on a metatextual level. "Mrs. Officer" is really fun and catchy but feels like it aged poorly; I know it's all in jest, but should we be cracking jokes about police, and does that jest-making have the unintended effect of humanizing what in reality is basically a violent gang? "Let the Beat Build" is the best deep cut by a mile, but there are perhaps one too many shoutouts to writer/producer Kanye West on his songs for me to sit comfortably with it. And what to make of the final song, "Dontgetit," in which Lil Wayne mutters into the mic for almost ten minutes about how much he hates Al Sharpton? Is it possible to take 2008 Lil Wayne seriously when 2020 Lil Wayne supported trump? Should my political leanings in 2023 dictate how I interpret an album from the Obama era?

I don't know if I can answer those questions, but I can definitely say that the characteristics I value in Lil Wayne—being stupid-clever and clever-stupid simultaneously—make the album bearable, and the album falters whenever it gets serious. I get why a slow and sobering song like "Shoot Me Down" exists, but I don't understand why it has to exist on a Lil Wayne album. It feels against type. I don't know, maybe I'm just projecting. I'm not saying I never took him seriously, because I did and I do. It's not that I'm laughing at him. It's that I want to laugh with him. And some of the songs suck all the laughter out of the room, which feels weird.

Definitely me projecting, I'll admit that. I feel like maybe I'm taking my hip hop quest a bit too seriously, and I was looking forward to letting loose with Weezy and experiencing some fun. There's was a lot of it to be found, sure, but maybe not as much as I expected. "A Milli" might have been the basis for some of those expectations. I remember really liking that song back in 2008. That beat is killer. It just gets you so pumped up when the voice starts chanting and then the bass drops.

But I dunno, I almost found "A Milli" a little lacking this time around, even. It just goes on a tad too long. I also remembered the video as better than it actually is. I definitely recall watching Lil Wayne emerge from his tour van in the video, watching it in my dorm room in the fall of '08. For some reason I remembered it as one long take, which isn't the case. The editing is actually a bit discombobulating, with all those quick cuts and freeze frames. Still a great song, and still the best song on this album, but definitely a case of reality not meeting my expectations for whatever reason.

So what's the conclusion here? I'll say that this is, at the very least, an album worth knowing. It stands as important, not only as a showcase for everything Lil Wayne can do (both good and bad), but also for everything that hip hop stood for in the mid-to-late-'00s (basically, more is more, both in quantity and in variety). There are plenty of great moments, and plenty of reasons to dismiss the album too. But the fact that I am able to distinguish the good from the bad at this point means that I'm at least trying, right?

Fuck it, let the beat build, bitch.

Monday, March 27, 2023

SO/SN/SB/SB — 3/27/23

Something Old

So Elton John is a singles artist, right? He's one of the best-selling artists in history (Wikipedia ranks him fourth on this list, behind the Beatles, Elvis Presley, and a pedophile), but no one seems to be able to give you a straight answer when you ask "what album should I check out?" Well, okay, most people say Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, enough that we can reasonably assume that they are correct. I can attest that it's a great album, but the best songs are the hits. The deep cuts are fun and interesting and varied but they don't hold a candle (excuse the pun) to the title track or "Bennie and the Jets" or "Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting."

I got the itch recently to go a little deeper, and so I downloaded what seems to more or less be considered the "second-best Elton John album," Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy. It was an interesting test to the "singles artist" theory, because the album has exactly one hit, and I fucking hate it—"Someone Saved My Life Tonight." A truly awful song. So saccharine that it makes me nauseous. But if I'm going to like Captain Fantastic, then that means I'm gonna have to rely on the deep cuts, right? ("Philadelphia Freedom" and the cover of "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds," both great songs, are also both bonus tracks, and homie don't fuck with bonus tracks.)

I am happy to report that there are definitely some songs to enjoy on here. The title track is a really nice take on rustic Americana from an artist who is the farthest from "rustic" that you can possibly be. Songs like "Bitter Fingers" prove that Elton John is at his best when he's doing the traditional rock-'n'-roll / boogie blues thing. Songs like "Tower of Babel" prove that he doesn't necessarily even have to rock out, because the man can bring the drama with the piano. Those are the first three songs, and true, the energy lags a bit toward the end, by the time you get to "We All Fall in Love Sometimes," but in the meantime, there's definitely some great theatrical Elton-brand rock to get invested in. "(Gotta Get a) Meal Ticket" goes especially hard.

How much deeper can we go here? Am I to assume that Elton John has some more hidden gems in the rubble of 31 studio albums, or is it all stupid ballads and The Lion King from here on out? Captain Fantastic and the Brown Dirt Cowboy suggests the former. Hmmm.


Something New

My appreciation for Shalom and her new album Sublimation was slow to arrive. I dunno, Shalom just sings in that sort of droll/monotone style of vocals that never really connects with me, so there's that. But the more I listened, the more I grew to like the unique voice—in a figurative sense—that Shalom was providing here. I can't think of anyone else I listen to who could sing the line "You know that I miss you / you know that I love you / you know that my mom still prays for you" and have it work as a singalong chorus.

I also get the sense that Shalom is a little younger than most artists I listen to. I can't find an exact birthdate because her stage name is frustratingly ungoogleable, but she got a bachelor's degree in 2021, which tells me she's around ten years younger than I am. I mean, she has a song about how when she was younger she used to drive around listening to Soccer Mommy, and Soccer Mommy is not that old of an artist herself, so that says all you need to know there.

There's just something about the monotone vocal delivery and the noticeable attempts to make her bedroom music feel epic and grand (the huge synths in "Did It to Myself," or the bright poppy keyboard shuffle beat on "Happenstance," as two examples) that just screams "Gen Z" to me. How the younger generation has been conditioned to talk loudly by their existence online but also making great efforts to seem cool and laidback and whatnot. I'm not saying that it's a bad thing, but it's a true thing, and it is evident in Shalom's music. Worth checking out if you don't mind feeling super old while you listen to it.


Something Borrowed

ChatGPT
has definitely been on my mind recently. I mainly use tools like this to fuck around online and then use that fucking around to generate content for the blog. I've never actually taken them seriously. In fact, I'd say that I'm more scared than excited regarding robots whom you can speak to and get detailed answers to complicated questions from. As you can see from the couple times I used ChatGPT, this shit is soulless. If there was a world in which writers were replaced by robots, then we might as well just call it quits as a society.

But I read an article recently on Vox that got my mind working in a different direction:

It's a mistake to ignore the risks posed by these large language models (LLMs), which range from making up facts to belligerent behavior to the possibility that even sophisticated users will begin thinking the AI is sentient (it's not). But the Mollicks argue it would also be a mistake to miss what the existence of these systems means, concretely, right now, for jobs that consist of producing text. Which includes a lot of us: journalists like me, but also software engineers, academics and other researchers, screenwriters, HR staffers, accountants, hell, anyone whose job requires what we used to call paperwork of any kind. "If we stop with Bing, it would be enough to disrupt like 20 different major industries," Ethan argued to me. "If you're not using Bing for your writing, you're probably making a mistake."

I hadn't been using Bing for writing until I heard him say that. Now I can't stop.

Read the rest of the article from Dylan Matthews HERE. Here's what I got out of it. The world—and especially the internet and commercialized websites on said internet—requires a certain amount of content to be generated, and much of it already sounds generic even if a human sat down and wrote it without the help of AI. What the author is arguing isn't that shit like ChatGPT is going to replace something like Puke on Your Birthday, but that it could replace nonessential writing tasks like, I dunno, cover letters or shit like that.

I would have never thought about it that way, because if you ask me, there is TOO MUCH of that kind of shit to begin with, and I'd much rather prefer something like a stupid fucking cover letter be eliminated altogether. However, the author is correct—if stupid shit like that is going to be required, then why not use a robot to skip the tedium of that process?

I'm even starting to consider whether I could potentially use this thing at work. I'll be going back to my old job in a couple months (unfortunately), and it definitely is going to require a lot of mindless writing. Not that it can be filled with bullshit, but rather, the writing will require me to create a narrative out of facts that I receive about specific cases. The narrative itself is boilerplate, usually, and only requires the basic facts to be changed. I'm wondering now if I can train ChatGPT to expedite that process. Like, I wonder if I can get it to the point where I'm entering facts into ChatGPT, and it's spitting out the narrative like I trained it to. Anything to make my job easier, right?

There's probably a lot more to say about ChatGPT, and rest assured that most of it will be negative. But this article has made me consider at least one noble purpose for the whole stinking enterprise, that being the idea of me making the same amount of money by doing less work.


Something Blue

Fall Out Boy
have been on my mind recently. Not because they have a new album coming out as of this past Friday—though their status as Record Club alumni mean that I'm going to have to listen to that album eventually—but because frontman Patrick Stump did the theme song for Spidey and His Amazing Friends, which is a children's television show that my children are inexplicably invested in right now. The song sucks, the show sucks, and I am anticipating the crushing disappointment in Willow's eyes when she realizes that all these characters have their own live action movies, and they all SUCK.

Anyways, suffice it to say, W & M were not impressed when Pam tried to play them some classic Fall Out Boy. Oh, you don't like "Of All the Gin Joints in All the World"? You fucking neophyte?! Nah, just kidding. The only reason I liked that From Under the Cork Tree album was that it spoke to my nostalgic sensibilities. I don't think I'm actually a fan of Fall Out Boy. For instance, I heard the 2014 FOB song "Centuries" the other day, either for the first time ever or for the first time since 2014. And it was fucking terrible. Awful. Truly one of the worst songs I have ever heard. Stump's vocals are like a fork being dragged across a chalkboard in that chorus, it literally makes my teeth hurt thinking about it.

Clearly Fall Out Boy is the type of band who is going to chase chart success, and prioritize it over artistic merit, because there is no other explanation for a band who can come up with something as great as "Sugar, We’re Goin Down" to then make something as basic-ass bitch-ass 104.5 dreck bullshit as "Centuries." I hate it. It's so bad that I retroactively hate Fall Out Boy. I am now expecting the worst with So Much (for) Stardust. The only question really is if it's going to be as bad as "Centuries" or somehow even worse.

Sunday, March 26, 2023

Album of the Week: The Art of Forgetting

Oh man, there's been a weirdly large amount of Record Club alumni covering other Record Club alumni recently. Lizzo covered Sam Smith. Shania Twain covered Harry Styles. Florence + the Machine covered No Doubt. T-Pain also covered Sam Smith on a covers album he just released. Maren Morris covered the Rolling Stones on a "country musicians sing the Stones" covers album just released. And Kelly Clarkson is out here covering every single RC artist we've ever done, most recently cuts from the actual RC albums for Florence, Jazmine Sullivan, and MUNA.

Not sure what this means. That Record Club tends to pick music that people want to sing? That Record Club chooses a lot of musicians who are still active and who are using covers to stay in the headlines? That Record Club is listening to good music and other Record Club artists agree? That we're reaching a point of saturation that like 25% of all music released is going to involve a Record Club artist in some way? Regardless, I'm enjoying it. Feels like we got one big happy family here, musical artists included.

Record Club:

WEEK 217 — March 26-April 1, 2023


The Art of Forgetting
by Caroline Rose

LISTEN:

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PICKED BY JAMIE

JAMIE'S COMMENTS: No response to my request for comment.

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ALBUM DETAILS

GENRE: Indie pop / indie rock

RELEASED: March 24, 2023

LENGTH: 51:32

TRACKLIST:
  1. Love / Lover / Friend
  2. Rebirth
  3. Miami
  4. Better Than Gold
  5. Everywhere I Go I Bring the Rain
  6. The Doldrums
  7. The Kiss
  8. Cornbread
  9. Stockholm Syndrome
  10. Tell Me What You Want
  11. Florida Room
  12. Love Song for Myself
  13. Jill Says
  14. Where Do I Go from Here?
LYRICS: Genius.com

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ARTIST DETAILS

PRONOUNS: According to their Instagram, Rose uses they/she/it pronouns, which I assume is a "choose the best fit in your writing while still respecting their preferences"-type situation, with "they" being preferred/prioritized.

ABOUT: Caroline Rose was born in Long Island in October 1989, and grew up on the outskirts of NYC (Center Moriches specifically). They graduated from Wellesley College in '11 with a bachelor's degree in architecture. The following year, they used Kickstarter to make their first album. The first two albums were apparently Americana, but they eventually transitioned to a sort of indie-pop-alternative blend. They currently live in Austin, TX.

DISCOGRAPHY: This is their fifth LP. As mentioned, their first two—America Religious in 2012 and I Will Not Be Afraid in 2014—were of a certain sound, and their next two—LONER in 2018 and Superstar in 2020—were of a completely different sound. LONER was the breakout album.

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ADDITIONAL INFO

READING SOME SHIT: Consequence of Sound does a track-by-track.

WATCHING SOME SHIT: Might take another couple weeks for Caroline Rose to make the rounds through the late night TV circuit, so here is the video for "Tell Me What You Want."

PREVIOUSLY ON RECORD CLUB: I feel like Rose's last album, Superstar, has been "memory-holed" (as the kids say) a little bit. That's what happens when you release an album right before a global pandemic! There were a few Record Club albums released in March 2020. Heavy Light was released on the same day as Superstar, March 3rd. You Know I'm Not Going Anywhere and A Written Testimony were March 10th. Future Nostalgia was March 27th. Weird times. Hopefully The Art of Forgetting manages to avoid global catastrophe.

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Happy listening, RC family!
Have a great week!

Saturday, March 25, 2023

Exit Survey: Pam on This Is Why

See the rest of the exit surveys HERE.


1. Were you happy with the reviews that were published? How do you feel about your week as Record Club captain?

Yes, absolutely I am happy with the reviews that were published! Always happy to be in the driver's seat as RC captain because I have lots of control issues. 

2. How was the variety of opinions? A wide range, kinda samey, or somewhere in the middle?

You know, there was a lot more variety than I expected! But I would say the variety was still somewhere in the middle. There were no active haters of This is Why. More like lots of love for the album on one side and the rest felt it was "meh." 

3. Were there any differing opinions that made you view the album in a different light?

There are for sure a lot of "meh" bands out there, but I was surprised to see how many reviewers put Paramore in with the "meh"s. I think being a fan from the band's early years and having the expectation of that sound could easily translate into listening to them now and being thrown way off. Gary wrote about this feeling and I think Joe captured this sentiment as well in his introduction, discussion and conclusion section. Or maybe they are truly "meh" to your ears now—no wrong opinions! 

This wasn't a differing opinion, but I was so glad to see that Melissa shared my opinion about the lyrics! I felt like I was going a little crazy thinking they were weak at times, so thanks for also feeling the same way and putting it in writing, sis. 

Sunny is so right—there's something about Paramore/104.5 that feels like they're always around. First off, if there's one band I associate with 104.5, it's Paramore. And secondly, one of the DJs from 104.5 from when Paramore hit the big time now works for 88.5. It feels like she and Paramore made the switch together. We may have thought we left Paramore behind in 2007, but we've basically been incepted by way of our local radio stations. 

4. Was there anything about this album or this artist that you wished that people would've written about more?

For some reason, I find myself inundated with all things David Byrne lately (not a bad problem to have). Perhaps it's the re-release of Stop Making Sense and the giant suit, or the hot dog fingers in the Oscars performance, but when I listened to the title track I was like OMG this is sooo Talking Heads. So I guess I just wanna talk about David Byrne more. He's so weird and cool and we should all just write about him more.

Also if Melissa could continue to drop in some more teen lingo each week that would be bussin'.

5. How do you feel about your album choice now that the week is over? A success? Any regrets?

Ah of course it was a success! Gary received confirmation that he picked the perfect mantra, Sunny got to dance it out, Melissa pondered her cheugy-ness (while simultaneously reminding me that cheugy is a thing), Joe got to continue on his journey of figuring out his relationship with nostalgia. And I got to finally share the "figure 8" story with the world.  

And having differing opinions means this was a good album to discuss. 

No regrets!

6. Any other takeaways from the reviews? Or from this experience in general?

Nah. It's near midnight and I am way too tired to come up with anything. This thing is already off the rails. 

7. What is an improvement that Record Club can make that would enhance everyone's experience, either as a captain or as a listener/writer?

Jesus Christ Superstar for the week of Easter? JK Joe would NEVER allow it (it IS a soundtrack, technically). So, no. We're good.

Friday, March 24, 2023

This Is Why, Pam


I picked This Is Why because I was impressed with Paramore's ability to push their own limits on their 2017 album, After Laughter. The album on which they seemingly genre-jump. The album that caught my attention.

I had always been familiar with Paramore as one of those Warped Tour bands. I knew Hayley Williams as the pretty redhead with the great voice for the genre. The dream girl of the Warped Tour enthusiasts within our friends, no doubt. 

Paramore has spoken a lot about this, as they call it, "forward motion." There are plenty of bands who do one thing successfully and continue to do that thing over and over again. And hey, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. But I do appreciate Paramore's commitment to changing it up a bit and trying new things. I was very interested to see how they would continue to shake things up on This Is Why

I do love their David Byrne moment on the song "This Is Why." I think it's safe to say that this is the best song on the album. 

The first half of the album is jam-packed with really full, funky layered songs. Although this lyric seems to apply specifically to COVID times, I've still never identified more with a lyric than: "My social life a chiropractic appointment." It's in "Running Out of Time," "C'est Comme Ça," and "You First" (of course the title track as well) that I feel Paramore has really excelled at what they set out to do on This Is Why

Lyrically, I rarely found myself thinking "hmm I wonder what they mean by this?" The lyrics are very spelled out and literal most times and they almost (ALMOST) gave me the same feeling as listening to TSwift singing about doing vigilante shit. Like, maybe too literal? I don't know. 

And now, a story: It's really a shame for "Figure 8" that one of my best friends (who shall remain nameless, to protect her identity) read in a teen magazine, probably back in the late 1990s, that drawing an imaginary figure 8 around your boobs was a hot dance move. We've of course never let this go and have relentlessly teased her about this from the second she shared the dance move with us and for the last 20+ years. I've never met a better sport than her. But it's a shame for the song "Figure 8" that I will, no matter how good of a song it is, for the rest of my life always think of that hot dance tip when I hear the phrase "figure 8" and especially employ the very sexy "figure 8" move while listening to this song and around those gals. 

The last few songs are a little slower, and less funky. It kinda sounds like they ran out of steam and maybe even rested on their laurels a bit. I don't know why they would choose to end this album with a slow song. But with an album name like This Is Why, I've gotta imagine that they made a lot of careful choices and so I'm sure there is a reason why. 

I am impressed that Hayley Williams has stuck with the band. As someone so hell bent on embracing change, I would have expected her to release more solo stuff. Does she have solo stuff? I could be so way off here, but it is a fact that she is still in the band, so I can't be that far off. Anyway I think it's cool that the band has stuck together and that they are all for forward motion together. Hayley Williams's voice, however, will always reign supreme. 

All in all, they definitely succeeded on their continual quest to push their own limits and barriers. It's one thing to see a band try something new, but it's another to see a band excel with each new thing they try. Very exciting. Keep doing what you're doing, Paramore.

This Is Why, Sunny


Oh hey, it's Paramore. Until this week, I didn't realize how long it had been since their last album. Something about 104.5 and the cultural gestalt keeps the band feeling always "around." The formula has been done, sure, but the particular outfit and/with Williams's persona keeps the band more memorable than many contemporaries. Whether that gestalt keeps them making music or that they keep making music keeps them in the gestalt is, well, chicken-and-egg. I do wonder though if I already know what to expect going into a Paramore album.

And so when This Is Why opens with "This Is Why"'s funkier than usual intro, I think oh hey, they're trying something fresh? And they do. This funky-punk-rock post-pandemic opener song then widens the album up into a range of their usual tricks and some new ones ("C'est Comme Ça"). The back half of the album in particular is back to the pop-punk I'm used to from the band, and is performed with the usual production one expects. So it's a nice mix. Is there another chart topping ultra-hit in here? Probably not. But it's a solid 35-minute dance ride.

This Is Why, Melissa


Paramore's This Is Why comes out hot and jazzy, '70s-whimsy, as we start with the hard bop of "This Is Why." Then again, these lyrics feel silly. That's usually ok with me, but something, as we move forward in this album, lends itself to the commonplace lyric and disorderly in the genre. 

The lyrics to these songs—which I admit I relate with—are super relatable. Too relatable. They almost feel meme-ish. After "Running out of Time," I'm assuming there is a song about "Mondays, amiright?" Or maybe it'll be called "Rent Free" or "That's What She Said."

As any good journalist would do, I google translate "Ce'st Comme Ca" and realize my assumptions about cliches are real. “C'est Comme Ça" translates to "That's just what it is"!! Yep. That tracks. "In a single year, I've aged 100," she sings, which was probably high on the list of "Most Commonly Used Phrases of 2020," second only to "Unprecedented Times" and "You're on Mute."

I don't have the brain power to not like this album, but I also don't have the brain power to like it either. C'est comme ça, I suppose. There is something relatable, and fun, but I also don't care. 

Then there are moments like "Big Man, Little Dignity," which wants to be Fleetwood Mac. I also want this to be Fleetwood Mac. I think there are songs filled with promise, and then we're given other songs that are just meh. 

Then, I consider my mood. Vibe check, amiright? Is this because I feel meh right now? It's that mid-day yawning kind of mood I can't shake. Would a non-meh album pick me up? Then, I consider the genre. Is it the genre? Am I too cheugy to understand how it is doing good things? 

When I pause the album to do something, "Still Into You" from Paramore’s early days is stuck in my head. Paramore has brainwashed me. I can hear their old sounds calling to me even as I walk away from their current mid-level sounds. Returning, I listen to "Liar" which was nice. Meh. Not bussin' per se, but pretty. The rest, meh. 

At the end of the day, it is what it is, les clichés sont réels, and there are plenty more fishy albums in the great big sea.

This Is Why, Gary


I don't think Pam wanted a direct lyric from a song, and as cliché as it is to take a quote from the first song of the record, "This is why I don't leave the house," has been my mantra ever since we had kids. It resonated with me more than any lyric ever.

I was first introduced to Paramore in NHL 08. It was their song "Misery Business." I remember thinking how much this band kicked ass. I can't really explain this next part, but it reminded me of another song I loved, "Bring Me to Life" by Evanescence.

So that brings us to fifteen years later. Maybe I'm just not the same person. Maybe Paramore has changed their style too much over the years. Maybe I'm just a curmudgeon. But this album screams "Meh" in every way.

Hear me out. Nothing about the album is bad. It's just not very good. But maybe they just grew into a different vibe that I wasn't ready for. I was hoping for a light rock feel, and what I got was... whiny?

I will admit that I didn't hate anything about this though. I just was expecting a little more boom and a little less tap.

Having said all that, I can tell why Paramore still continues to be relevant. As a band, they aren't bad. AND I get to listen to it with my kids in the room. So that's a plus.

6 Squid games out of 10

This Is Why, Joe


Every Sunday, one of the links provided is for a guide titled "Tips for Writing an Album Review." Today, I will go through every tip provided in that guide, and write a micro-review using that tip.

Listen to the album.
 
Okay.

Listen to it more than once.

S.O.P. for me: 20 times minimum.

Listen to it in different contexts.

Contexts in which I listened to This Is Why this week:
  • On my laptop that has an ad-blocker for YouTube
  • Emptying the dishwasher
  • The El, but no one smoking near me this time
  • The 67 bus
  • The 19 bus when the 67 wouldn't stop for me on the way home
  • The Pennypack Woods, which I have to walk through to get home from where the 19 bus drops me off
  • Aldi
  • Sitting in the Aldi parking lot because I usually get there about seven minutes before they open
  • Sitting at my work desk putting together a PowerPoint presentation for a "case study" on a "client" that I am "working with," except mine is on the fictional character Teddy Duchamp from Stand by Me, and I'm going to see how long it takes my classmates to figure out that I'm bullshitting them (if they even do, though I have to imagine that "there was an incident in which he viewed a dead body" is going to tip off somebody)
  • Driving to school, then taking the El to work for a few hours, before I taking the El back to school
  • That's pretty much it, I lead a boring life, lots of sitting on buses and driving in cars
Listen to it while you're reading along to the lyrics, especially on genius.com if available, since they sometimes have the lyrics annotated.

I was actually able to do this during one El & 19 bus combined trip. Genius had a lot of good shit on there. It helps that Hayley Williams is a prolific interviewer, because there are a lot of first-person explanations for many of the songs. I don't necessarily think that it's crucial to know what every song means to the author. To a certain extent, we should kill that author and let our own experiences tell us what the album means. That's probably me getting ahead of myself here, though. Overview of the songs and "what they mean" according to Paramore: it's tough out there, and of course personal mental health is gonna take a hit, but sometimes it's best to try to stop and take stock of where you're at and maybe disconnect a little bit, ya dig?!

Write down your thoughts, possibly in bullet point format. Just freeform it.

talking heads
bloc party
wait why am i just listing bands
i know that paramore sounds like other bands sometimes
but every band sounds like every other band sometimes
not that big of a deal
and after those 2 songs, things settle down
a little bit more post-punk-y than usual
that's more or less a good thing
at this business, no misery need apply

What are you feeling while you listen to it?

When I listen to This Is Why, I think about how it's always nice to connect with something easily. That's not always the case in Record Club. I try every week, but it doesn't always happen. Sometimes it happens but it takes a lot of effort. Paramore was effortless. This is my shit. Doesn't necessarily make for the easiest time writing a review, but when we shine a light on the most important aspect of RC—listening to new music—my reaction to this is: whew, thank god. I didn't need any additional challenges this week.

Is there something about the music that is making you feel this way?

I noted in the Bad Bunny review that "normal" is a terrible way to describe music, because my "normal" could be different from your "normal." The idea of "normal" is a personal construct, which is tough to fashion into an argument for or against an album that your are reviewing on a blog. But if Lester Bangs was holding a gun to my head and threatening to pull the trigger if I didn't admit it, then sure, I'd admit it: this is normal for me. Driving rhythms, shades of other rock bands that I adore, passionate and pliable vocals, empathetic lyrics. There is nothing I don't like here. All sugar, no medicine.

Is there something about your life right now that is making you feel this way?

Definitely one of those weeks where music needs to be a balm for me. Lots of school shit. Lots of personal shit. Paramore had a way of calming me, and that was a good thing. There were also some really good times. Pam's birthday festivities, the King Tuff concert (I assume... I'm writing this before I go to the King Tuff concert), also nice to have lean and muscular rock music to pump those events up even further than they could in silence (the metaphor doesn't really work because I assume the King Tuff concert isn't going to be "silent," but just bear with me).

Is there something about who you are a person that makes you feel this way?

Sure, why not. Let's put it this way: I pretend that challenges give some meaning, emotionally, because, like, it's better than feeling nothing at all, right? But maybe sometimes that façade falls down and I just want to close my eyes during another nauseating bus ride and escape into some music that requires nothing of me. So who am I as a person? Lazy and/or comfortable in my own skin. I don't know, man... depends on the day. Paramore fit well, though.

Is there something that might be different for different people in terms of feelings for this album?

Maybe you're not the type of person who needs the art they consume to reflect or refract who they are as a person. If you're not, then maybe Paramore can just be some fucking band for you. If that's easier, then that's fucking awesome. You do you.

Think about how you're going to organize these thoughts (or don't—leave 'em in bullet point form if you want, who gives a fuck?).

Well, apparently, I'm organizing it by answering prompts one by one. This actually works out well, because in this fashion I can write the review in small chunks instead of doing what I usually do and sitting down for a two-to-three-hour chunk to bang it out. I can't imagine when there would be a two-to-three-hour chunk this week.

Some might suggest having an introduction, a discussion, and a conclusion.

[Introduction] Six whole years after releasing their last album, which was the only other album I've ever actually listened to from this band, Paramore returns with This Is Why, and the world is itching to learn how the band has grown and changed in that time. [Discussion] Some may find the subtle shifts jarring, especially if you've known this band since you were a teenager, and were comfortable with the third-wave-emo-adjacent dark-eyeliner stylings of Riot!, but I'm a late bloomer, and I don't give a shit about labels, so I'm pretty cool with hearing these allegedly "new" sounds, because to me they sound like "old" sounds from other bands that I really life. [Conclusion] Should Paramore continue to follow their muse, and continue to not really worry about "what Paramore is supposed to sound like," then I'll be happy to listen to them and enjoy wherever they end up, because growth is positive, even if it means shedding your old self, or maybe even killing your old self, to be born anew (and then so what is releasing a new Paramore album in 2023 if not enjoying the chance to play?).

It might be cool if the introduction presented a theme, the discussion digs into the meat of the album, and the conclusion connects that discussion and reiterates the original introduction.

That would be cool, wouldn't it.

Or you could just go nuts and skip all of that. Do stream-of-consciousness.

eyes closed i will type for the next thirty seconds as fast as i can and i am listening to crave and it seems to be the most positive take on nostalgia i've ever heard, it's like grappling with your past, being glad it happened, without the sadness, without the longing, just appreciating where you've been and where you're going, and i really like that, and find it regreshing, and find that overall williams is speaking my lnaguage all ove rthis thing

Write a song-by-song description as you are listening.

Half-copied from the notes I took on the 19 bus on my phone's memo app:

"This Is Why" — response to constant trollish criticism, understandable rx to the idea of "these days" being "bad" or "dystopian" or whatever

"The News" — gives context to "This Is Why," how do we go through these terrible global events and come out worse towards each other

"Running out of Time" — I definitely identify with the sentiment: am i a selfish prick? Time vs caring, time as an excuse

"C'est Comme Ça" — it is what it is, post-punk speak singing, get "unaddicted to survival narrative", vocals are kneecapped by speak-sing, it's caring less vs caring more, finding balance?

"Big Man, Little Dignity" — flute!, slight chorus but obviously from a raw place, note how her voice cracks at beginning of first chorus, people engage with things that cause anger, just like me, but also just like this song, written from an angry perspective!, need to have songs about "men who are not held accountable for their actions"

"You First" — more bloc party, living well is just a privilege, choosing good or evil within yourself, there's both, e.g. last week's review, "everyone is a bad guy" is a good chorus in williams' hands

"Figure 8" — cool synth loop at beginning, about bending over backward for some who takes advantage, big soaring chorus contrasts nicely with paranoid verses, elliott smith reference?

"Liar" — slow song, about loving bandmate, weak track, though relatable sentiments from back in the day, plus generally not shitting where you eat, plus knowing Paramore has had shaky lineups, appreciate the vulnerability here, especially because of pressure she just fell to be strong fem icon

"Crave" — "I can't wait to memorize this day," song about nostalgia, making peace with your journey, even the crying, because it was simple and you were alive, musically running out of steam a bit, definitely feels like a "last song" b/c themes of "repeating"

"Thick Skull" — self blame, same lessons over and over, described as "shoegazy" which williams said she liked, music swells as it goes along, including big drum roll toward back

Write about something completely different than the album (a TV show, a movie, a dumb thing your friend did) and then loosely connect it to the album as best you can.

I've been rewatching BoJack Horseman. I'm up to the sixth and final season. I decided around Season 3 that this was my favorite TV show of all time. Anyway, there is a scene at the end of Season 5 where Diane's old boss wants her to be the "face" of their website's pivot to video content, and Diane's like, "Why me? I'm a huge selfish bitch and a terrible person," and they have a discussion about Diane holding herself to an impossible standard, which is pretty toxic in terms of her own self-worth. This definitely tracked with my understanding of Paramore's "You First" as well, how Hayley Williams is singing about the dichotomy of good vs. evil in all of us, how we're both, how those two concepts coexist within us, how it's not one or the other but a mixture of the two, but how we have the ability to choose. The important part is to not expect perfection, just try your best, and, like, also acknowledge the privilege that comes with that... look, all I'm saying is that Hayley Williams probably watches BoJack Horseman.

Try talking out loud, or try having someone ask you a question about the album—your answers that you are saying out loud would also work written down!

"I really like this album" —Joe, 3/21/23

Maybe even use a voice translator?

Nah. I need to replace the batteries on mine.

A good way to expound upon your thoughts is to ask yourself the question "How?" If you make a statement, for example, "This album reminds me of childhood," then the follow-up question "How?" should help you to think about what exactly it is about this album that reminds you of that. And that becomes the thing you can write about instead of just leaving us guessing.

Regarding "Big Man, Little Dignity," the above description included the following statement: "people engage with things that cause anger, just like me..." So the question in this blurb is: "How?" How do I engage with things that cause anger? Probably the same way that Williams is singing about in "The News." You feel shitty about what's going on in the world, but you get addicted to that feeling, and so there's the push and pull of "should I engage in this if it's making me ill?" and "isn't it my responsibility to engage in it anyway?" and etc. I'll enter the comment section on a crime post on the Philadelphia subreddit, even though I know 70% of the comments are going to enrage me. Anger causes chemicals to be released in the body, and you feel excitement and energy in that moment. You can get addicted to those chemicals. There are maybe healthy and unhealthy ways to deal with that. Maybe listening to a punk album is the safe space needed to experience that anger and the ensuing chemical reaction, I don't know.

There are no limits in either direction for length, by the way. Setting a personal minimum number of words might be a helpful motivation to write "enough" according to your own standards. In general, 100 words is probably the absolute bare minimum, but there have been successful reviews with less.

Probably gonna hit my personal mandate of 1000 words today, even if you don't include the bolded prompts.

You could write about what you know about the artist. What is their deal?

It's the band that wrote "Misery Business" and hit the big time (relatively, as the ceiling for a pop-punk band is a bit lower than your straight up pop act) during the craziest summer of my life (2007). And they are still sticking around, making music that does not sound like a rehash of "Misery Business," which I appreciate.

Did you like them before?

Definitely not in 2007. Not that 2007 Joe had good taste or anything (as we've gone over countless times in these reviews), but I definitely held it at arm's length. I did recently try out Riot! in full for the first time, and I did not like it. But in 2007, it... seemed kinda lame too. I just remember Kev having a huge crush on Hayley Williams, or at least there being a running joke that Kev had a crush on Hayley Williams, I forget which. So maybe that had something to do with it?! "Misery Business" holds up, though.

Have you listened to them before?

I actually only got into Paramore with After Laughter, when the general consensus seemed to be "they are trying something new" and I thought maybe that new thing would be more my speed. It was. After Laughter is fucking great. I still listen to that album all the time. Definitely seemed like the band was having a really good time, and that fun was infectious.

Had you heard of them before, or is this completely new?

Nah, c'mon, you gotta be living under a rock if you haven't heard of Paramore. I actually remember hearing an After Laughter cut at a bar in Ireland in 2017, probably "Hard Times." I don't think I realized that this was a globally known band until that moment.

What were your expectations for this album based on what you knew?

It's tough to ignore the reviews and assessments in the weeks leading up to Record Club's coverage of a new album. So yeah, I had some expectations. The big headline was "this sounds like they are doing Bloc Party," which makes sense for a few songs (especially "The News"), but perhaps the description is a bit overblown. I definitely hear post-punk in general though, which I usually consider tougher and leaner than new wave (though maybe take any genre talk from me with a grain of salt). I like it. It's a good fit for this band.

Were those expectations met?


Not that the expectations were sky high, but I did expect to like this album and to appreciate the hooks and to have it go down easy, and all of those expectations were met. I appreciate how each song has its own flavor, which means that Paramore is pushing their own limits, but that also all of the songs are definitively Paramore, which means that the band knows who they are and excel in that range (alternatively: Hayley Williams is one of the premiere frontwomen of the modern age).

You could also write about specific experiences you've had listening to this artist in the past.

Whoops, already did that. One thing I appreciated, though, is that the band itself seems to be in conversation with its past work on some of these tunes (at least according to Genius). Like, how "Crave" and its acceptance of growing older is a direct rebuke of After Laughter's "Caught in the Middle," which was about the discomfort of leaving your younger years behind (which was itself referring to the music that Paramore literally released in their younger years). There's a through line in this discography if you go looking for it.

Maybe write about another album of theirs that you like or dislike.

Anyone recommending I check out the 2013 self-titled? Where exactly did Paramore stop being a teen-emo-angst concern and start maturing into the band I know and love today?

Maybe you only know of this artist because they were featured on a movie's soundtrack, or a mixtape your ex made you, or they are some fucking band your dad always talks about and you hate.

No, but it was funny to learn that Paramore was on the Twilight soundtrack. Even noted Twilight fanatic Pam was confused about that one.

Or maybe this happens to be one of your favorite artists ever. Why? Why not?

Certainly not, but who knows? They keep doing what they've been doing in the past few years, and I'm open to the possibility.

What is the theme of that work, in your opinion? How do you interpret the album and what the artist is trying to say?

I hate to say it, but there are shades of this being a "pandemic album." But maybe the theme is "mental health and wellness" and my mind just automatically connects the two (since that middle part of 2020 really did a number on our emotional health, no?). There's also a lot of self-reflection, which can be tangential to the mental health piece. Like, there are questions of "Who am I?" or "Who are we (as a band)?" And then there questions of how we can fit into this world, how we can be our best selves, grappling with the idea of imperfection, grappling with past mistakes and living with them, that kind of thing.

Why are you interpreting it that way?

Maybe I need to know that someone like Hayley Williams, who is 26 days younger than me but infinitely more famous and important, is going through some of the same shit that I am. Or, the same emotions at least. Questioning your self-worth, how hard it is to make conscious decisions to be a better person. I interpret it that way because it gives depth to the album. This isn't just an album that sounds nice. It means something. I could mean something to you. I definitely means something to me.

What does that say about you as a listener?

It's an ego thing, probably. I'm always looking for good music in the mirror. It can't just be something that Williams believes, it has to be something that I can relate to. There's a lack of humility there, I think, that it has to be all about me. But that's how I am able to connect to music. I don't know if there is any other way, honestly.

Ten thousand people can listen to an album and come up with ten thousand different "themes," so why yours?

Well, like I said, it's just where I'm at in my life right now. Readjusting how one thinks about oneself. Clearly Paramore is asking these questions about itself. So too am I, during this period of transition, about to graduate school, and other shit that I'm probably not ready to type about yet.

What about the music and the lyrics informs that theme?

I feel like I've already gone over this. Sorry that some of these are repeating. Here's an example we haven't talked about yet though. "Figure 8" is a good song. There's a line that resonated with me that goes "I was only being kind / but you mistook me for weak." It's like, you can try your hardest to be the best person you can be, and yet there's always going to be that risk of being misinterpreted, and how sometimes we feel pressured to be "strong" but sometimes that turns into being "mean," and how the fact that these emotions are so closely tied together can really fuck you up, the more you think about it. The balance just seems so fucking impossible to find sometimes.

Absent of a theme, what does this album make you feel? In other words, what was the theme of your week of listening to this album?

There was a lot of homework, so Paramore felt like a respite from that. Which is good, because sometimes Record Club feels like homework too.

Another thing that is cool to do is the opposite—you looked at the album as a whole, but now look at it like a collection of songs. What are your favorite songs, and why?

Lots of good stuff on this album, and lots of depths to plumb when needed, but on a surface level, "This Is Why" is going to be the song that survives years of paring down the playlists. The chorus is just so fucking infectious. I heard it for the first time this week, and it's been stuck in my head since literally that first listen. An instant sing-along.

What are your least favorite songs, and why?

"Liar" is probably the worst song, if I had to pick. Sonically, you always fear that the album is going to start losing theme, and "Liar"'s lower BPM speaks to that fear. But also, I don't know, singing a song about being in love with your bandmate seems like a risky endeavor. Don't shit where you eat, Hayley Williams!

Why do you like the song, while understanding that others might not like it as much as you?

We've been over this before—tempo sets the expectations, and so the slower songs have a bigger hurdle to clear. One of my many flaws.

What is it about you yourself that makes you drawn (or repelled) by this particular song or songs?

And let's remember that catchiness is important. Not the end all be all, but definitely important. This album is packed with catchy songs.

Are all the songs equally enjoyable?

Definitely a stupid question to ask me at this point. I will not repeat myself.

Do you typically find that some songs are better than others whenever you listen to an album?

Well yeah, that's kind of how it works. I know I talk a big game about albums being complete works of art—and if we are talking about This Is Why, then I'll confirm that I consider it to all hang together cohesively—but there are always going to be certain songs that stick with you longer than others. "This Is Why" in this case being the definitive answer to the question of "best song." You'll see that one on a year's end list on this blog, guaranteed.

Is there one that stands out as great, so great that the rising tide lifts all boats?

I could see an argument in which "This Is Why" is lifting all boats. Only because it's at the beginning of the album though. It sets the tone immediately. The other songs are trying to stay at that level, and some even succeed.

Is there one that is so bad that it kinda ruins the album for you?

Nah, nothing really bad here. I only said "Liar" was the worst song because I had to name a "worst song." It's a good song. No sub-minute bullshit tracks or actively annoying sounds on this thing. I appreciate it.

Would you have preferred the songs to be in a different order? A.k.a. is the sequencing correct, in your opinion?

I get the argument that "Thick Skull" was the right song for the concluding track slot—it was the first song they wrote for the album, it has a nice swelling of bombast in the middle and then gently fades away—but every time I hear "Crave," I think that maybe that would've been the better choice. There are themes of repeating oneself! Might that not translate into the listener want to repeat the album itself when it ends? "Crave" at the end would make this album a song cycle.

Is there enough variety? Does the lack of variety hold the general theme tightly together? Does the variety create a sense of confusion as to what exactly the artist is trying to do?

I definitely already answered this question, and now I'm starting to regret just blindly copying and pasting all these prompts. Sorry for yet another bad album review from Joe K***!

Finally, you can give a sort of "final impressions" or "conclusions" on the matter.

Good album.

Some people give a numerical score to sum up their overall opinion on the album...

GRADE: 4 pukes out of 5

...but a concluding paragraph that says something like "I liked it" or "I didn't like it" would do the trick too.

Hmm, if I had written a regular review, the concluding paragraph would've probably looked something like: "While Paramore does very little to surprise, maybe they have found the ideal balance between stretching personal limits and keeping true to their own spirit. That spirit burns bright, and I'm looking forward to whatever kind of personal revelations that Paramore wants to set to tight and punchy post-punk music in the future." Something like that, I don't know. I'm not good at ending blog posts, clearly.

Developing my voice:

red leather yellow leather red leather yellow leather

"Voice" sometimes translates to "this is something that they always do or talk about in their reviews." Different people have different quirks in their writing. That's not something you should shy away from. It's okay to have "your thing."

I checked most of the boxes today. There was a reference to music I did or did not listen to as a teen. There were some vague emo statements. I bitched about homework. I set up a stupid framework for the review that I ended up regretting. What else is there? I guess I should've mentioned something about my kids? Willow and Martha didn't really listen to This Is Why this week. They were too busy learning the Polish version of "Happy Birthday."

You can eventually mix things up by writing "against voice" and purposefully doing things in a different way than usual.

What's "against voice" for me? Maybe just getting ChatGPT to write my review?

Contrast with "established music critic voice":

Oh yeah, I definitely would have used the phrase "angular guitars" if I didn't know that this was a lame nonsensical thing that music critics think sounds cool. It's true in this case! Paramore's guitars really do sound angular here!

Get creative! Maybe you are doing the stream of consciousness thing.

Already did that above.

Maybe you get drunk and see what words pop out.

No.

Maybe you aren't using words at all.

👍

You can get meta too if you want. If you're purposefully not following directions, you could lampshade it by literally writing "I'm not following directions."

I am writing a review for This Is Why and I am annoyed that this review is still going. The directions are "end the review" and I don't know how to do that.

Insert yourself into the review. Write about how hard it is to write. Write about how it's easier to write about how hard it is to write.

It's hard to write about how it's easier to just write about how hard it is to write now that you've indicated that it's easier to write about how hard it is to write.

Don't make any sense. Apologize for not making sense.

A lot of this review doesn't make sense. Sorry.

Say how much you hate Record Club in your Record Club review—we can't kick you out!

No way, Record Club is awesome.

KEEP WRITING!

That's enough for today.