Milo Goes to College, Pat

I had a film professor in college who said it was OK to think Citizen Kane is boring. For one, the main character is a huge asshole. But more than anything, the technical achievements that made it so astonishing at its premiere—the editing, the score, the cinematography, the narrative structure—are ubiquitous in modern movies. It's hard to appreciate something groundbreaking if we never saw the ground intact. If the technical aspects of Citizen Kane are now the standard, then all we have to judge is the story it tells. And that story is kinda boring. Even Orson Welles thought so.

I get the same feeling from Milo Goes to College. I can imagine that to the listeners of 1982, this was fucking insane. The breakneck speed of the drums, guitar, bass and vocals must've seemed like the musical equivalent of that train coming right for the audience. But I was born in 1991. I grew up in the early aughts, in a world saturated with every band that was trying to emulate this sound. Green Day, blink-182, Sum 41, Jimmy Eat World, etc. I am physically incapable of hearing this album as something new. When I listen to Milo Goes to College, I don't hear something essential. I hear the soundtrack to Tony Hawk's Pro Skater on PlayStation.

Now, this is not necessarily a bad thing. I generally like that genre of music, and I certainly enjoyed the album. I liked the energy. Descendents know that brevity is the soul of punk. When I saw this album was less than 25 minutes long, my heart leapt for joy. But ultimately, I don't find it any greater than the sum of its parts. It's a fun, short album that I would gladly play in public, but could not tell the songs apart if my life depended on it.

You know who really enjoyed it? My eleven-month-old. He cracked a huge smile as soon as I put it on. Apparently he's a big punk fan. In that case, I'm glad he's starting here.

Rating: 🐻🐻🐻
3 out of 5 bears I wanna be