I don't need to be sold on HAIM, I'm good there. They've been playing the rock-as-pop-and-pop-as-rock game for as long as I've considered myself an amateur music critic, and there hasn't really been a point that I've considered turning on them. No dips, all hits. That's not gonna end now. LP4 is a good collection of music. It fits into the classic discography narrative, in that: your first album is all hits because you had your whole life up until now to make it; your second album repeats what the first album did because it worked so well that first time; the third album goes long and makes a statement and is presented as the artist's thesis; the fourth album takes risks in mixing up the sound and throwing in the kitchen sink. We're firmly at the fourth album—George Michael samples to a harmonica-v.-saxophone duel in the span of four songs. I like it a lot. There was very little chance that I was going to dislike it.
At this point in my life, just liking something is boring to me. Maybe this is a symptom of falling into the trap of taking everything that I experience (but especially music) in my life and synthesizing it through my own words on a blog. If there's no interesting "why" then I quickly forget about the thing that I like. Without RC's intervention, I suppose I quit was fated to suffer such a demise. Very Good, Forgotten. With an extra week of scrutiny, I was able to make the leap, find something to latch onto. I just want to be very clear that when I say that the album has "changed" for me, I'm not talking about quality, since it was great in June and remains great here at the end of August. I'm instead talking about the thematic hook. I'm talking about cracking this album open and figuring out in what ways it could change me, for better or worse.
I've never been a fan of the phrase "I quit," because, as the saying unfortunately goes, momma didn't raise no quitter. At first glance, the album is supposed to be about quitting in the "giving up" sense, and that makes me uncomfortable. Don't give up, HAIM! How can I relate to such a sentiment, when I myself refuse to quit, etc. etc. Quitting means giving in to your worst impulses. You are stronger than that! Don't quit!
Paging through some promotional material, the Haim girls make it pretty clear that they intended "I quit" to be more of a spiritual thing, quitting as a restorative measure. E.g. I hate what is happening and so for the betterment of my mental health I am quitting. This relationship is toxic and so I am "quitting" the relationship. They are attempting to say that you don't have to let the "I'm not a quitter" mindset suck you down into a black hole. Sometimes, you need to quit. This is what I quit is about. It's more "I quit" in a That Thing You Do! sense. This isn't working out, and so to protect myself, I quit.
I understand the mindset, and I am happy for those who are able to find stability through quitting. But I also resent it, to a certain extent. Quitting comes from privilege. Which is totally okay too. I am privileged in so many ways, and the times in my life when I've quit, I knew it was going to be okay, because of my privilege. But there are so many other times that I want to quit. So many ways that I want to quit, but don't have the privilege of doing so. I want to quit my job but that would only cause more trouble in my life. It would be a catastrophe. It's been a rough summer because I have credit card debt for the first time in my life and in response I find myself in my cubicle more than ever, working extra to pay back the debt, and here are these great musicians chirping in my ear that life would be better if I quit?! No fucking shit!
I think about Office Space a lot, and even more so when considering what the Haim sisters are telling me about quitting. The initial hook of that movie is that life is going to be so much better when you quit. The protagonist quits caring about his job, and begins to move up in life because of that. The temptation for all office drones is to take a lesson from this movie, and break free of the chains of droll employment in order to find peace. The only problem is, everyone forgets about the second half of the movie, in which the protagonist's troubles return tenfold, and a new kind of anxiety manifests, as a direct result of that initial quitting.
Quitting too often feels like not caring. I struggle to not care. I think that's the gist of it. I do care. I care too much, probably. Caring hurts. Caring about the world and humans who live in it, right now, that hurts like hell. Caring about my family is easy but it still hurts when I have to make sacrifices for my family, and I feel compelled to use that caring as a fuel to not quit, not ever quit, but it hurts, both in the short-term and long-term, it hurts like hell. I'm careful not to let resentment grow for those who don't care, but it's active work to beat that resentment back. It's easier to forgo the resentment when the three people who actively don't care and are proposing that you also don't care just like them even though you lack the privileges that they have are the same three people who are making really catchy music.
You are taking this too seriously, says Danielle Haim.
I respond, yeah, I know.
She's like, dude, it's just a thematic hook. We're not actually implying that you should quit your job and tank your family's financial future. That's all in your head, brah.
I'm nodding along like, yeah, I get it. It's just been a rough summer.
But see, this is the true genius of the name of the album, she says, patting herself on the back a little bit. It can apply to anything. Quit the summer of 2025. Go ahead, man. Quit.
I suppose I could.
Yeah, and, like, all the songs about "quitting" a toxic relationship, like, dude, that should've been your key right there. I broke up with my boyfriend, but the songs about breaking up are, like, metaphorical. Saying "I quit" is just a way of taking agency in the decisions that better your life. We're not saying to be reckless, brah.
But I can't actually quit summer, you know that.
Of fucking course. But summer's gonna end anyway, and autumn is gonna look a little better, because you're trying. You're not quitting the hard work, but you can still say "I quit!" to feel better about it. You see what I'm tryin' to say.
Quitting as a way of marking the passage of time.
Sure. You think I actually wanna go back to the time in my life when some little sixteen-year-old prick is trying to feel me up in an empty parking lot while my asshole friend is taking a shit in the truckbed? It's fun to reminisce but at a certain point, you quit. You, Joe, you've quit so many times and you don't even fucking know it. We're just saying to, like, embrace that shit, brah. It's turning a phrase on its head. Fuck out of here with that "quitting is for losers" bullshit. You quit all the time. Flip that shit, use quitting as a way of embracing the positive in your life. Quit the negative.
I am going to quit this summer.
Do it.
I am quitting.
GRADE: 4 pukes out of 5
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