Joyce Manor have never quite made a song like ‘All My Friends Are So Depressed’. You still may have seen it quoted on your Tumblr feed a decade and a half ago, but probably wouldn’t identify its riff as coming from the group that Bad Religion legend, Epitaph head, and I Used to Go to This Bar producer Brett Gurewitz describes not just as “a quintessential South Bay punk band,” but one of the most important bands of the last twenty years. The trio and their rotating cast of drummers have found ways to refine their sound while going out on a limb on at least a couple of songs on every album, and their latest is no exception. “Regular depression,” as Barry Johnson once put it in describing their self-titled album, has hardly lost its regularity and fans can all rally around it no matter the musical style it’s presented. But two decades is enough hindsight to say what it really used to be like, and no matter how dark, the comforting thing about this album is the sense that Joyce Manor could be doing the same in as many years from now – including a song or two that sound unlike any of it.
1. I Know Where Mark Chen Lives
Nodding to Summer Vacation/Winter Break singer-songwriter Mark Chen as well as Television Personalities’ ‘I Know Where Syd Barrett Lives’, the song feels instantly like a blast from the past, at once ambivalent and anthemic. Throwing it back to a time when weed was not fully legal, the scene Barry Johnson paints is frightful yet humorous in its gnarliness, and the song all the punchier for it.
2. Falling Into It
Apparently inspired by his love for Vampire Weekend’s latest album, Only God Was Above Us – and as any fan would be quick to presume, Weezer’s ‘Falling for You’ – Johnson naturally begins by singing ‘Falling Into It’ with the wistfulness of someone conditioned to predict the fallout. But as an odd, squeaky synth is swallowed up by a mountain of distortion, the song’s explosive final chorus doubles as a defiant outro.
3. All My Friends Are So Depressed
“Got it wrong, can’t move on/ Been awake for far too long/ 3pm, can’t get dressed,” Johnson sings on the catchiest song on the album, the kind you’ll find yourself singing over and over before finally getting up and covering it for the regulars at your local open mic. Joyce Manor are no strangers to experimentation, and the jangliness of ‘All My Friends Are So Depressed’ is a fresh look that wears its Smiths (Johnson would actually say Morrissey) influence on its sleeve. It captures the brand of self-deprecation that will have you pointing fingers at everyone else while being the obvious culprit.
4. Well, Whatever It Was
Dating back to Johnson’s earliest attempts at songwriting, ‘Well, Whatever It Was’ is less deflective: you’re clearly the one “slowly going insane.” Slowly is the key word here, as the song cools down the album’s pace, though not without the playful riffing that backs up Johnson ‘s claim that it would “go insanely hard in a Shrek film.” Frustration may be mounting, but the worst day so far is always ahead of you.
5. I Used to Go to This Bar
In terms of shooting for nostalgia, ‘I Used to Go to This Bar’ is a direct hit. But the album’s pensive undercurrent pervades; Johnson insists there was nothing special about the place, but his off-handedness underscores the grim realities of the past, the darkness he could lightly scoff at previously but less so now. The title track is necessarily hooky but cuts the singer’s breath short, the sting of old memories preventing it from becoming a full-force anthem.
6. After All You Put Me Through
The band’s versatility expands to bouncy new wave on ‘After All You Put Me Through’, which more importantly furthers the album’s emotional progression: “I’m through/ Feeling blue/ And it’s all because of you,” Johnson sings, later reduntantly (but rather funnily) adding “It’s tough/ Feeling rough” over wafting keys. The juxtaposition between the arrangement and his singing initially seems like the point, until it comes to a satisfying resolution.
7. The Oppossum
Another jangly song, this time steered in more of a punk direction, mirroring the contrast between Johnson’s mature vocals and the nostalgically juvenile subject matter of his lyrics. It’s a strong outlier on the record and a good reminder to Google “oppossum.” There, I’ve just made your day better.
8. Well, Don’t It Seem Like You’ve Been Here Before?
It seems like Joyce Manor have started a tradition of beginning at least two album track titles with the word “Well.” Or maybe it should grow exponentially? Well, whatever it is, the delightfully ironic thing about ‘Well, Don’t It Seem Like You’ve Been Here Before?’ is that it I don’t think they’ve ever added a harmonica to a song before, which makes it step in like sunshine here.
9. Grey Gray
We’ve certainly heard Johnson in this mode before, but his shaky, thunderous performance almost throws you off guard as it closes I Used to Go To This Bar. The rhythm section’s got muscle, the main riff is somewhere between glorious and mournful. “Let’s not confuse the issue,” the chorus begins, catching the song in its own bemusement and downright horror. The album mostly comes from the vantage point of being privileged enough to say terrible things used to happen, but ending with ‘Grey Guitar’ reminds us it’s not until the present becomes the past that the dark parts even reveal themselves. That stuff lingers, but Joyce Manor’s latest is proof that reminiscing can mean the opposite of going back.
