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To introduce this restless punk rock poet as briefly as possible: With his band BOMB THE MUSIC INDUSTRY!, he has given the middle finger to all the usual marketing strategies, consistently made his (and others') music available for free online, let strangers from the audience play songs on stage during concerts, toured like a madman, and after a mass of released music and the dissolution of his band, he has officially delivered as a producer for THE SMITH STREET BAND. And more.
Anyone expecting self-pitying whining about an unfair world after this introduction is fortunately way off base. This is the continuation of the course set with BTMI!, which has led from solo-recorded, death-defying ska-punk to power-pop to sing-along songs after closing time. The songs move within this spectrum and switch back and forth seamlessly. What initially sounds like Jeff Rosenstock jamming with a few friends in his own shared apartment suddenly hits you with a powerhouse of a chorus, as if we were at the boiling point of the pogo pit, and then it reduces the volume again without losing intensity. A colorful selection of organ, trombone, backing vocals, and vibraphone sprinkles wonderful melodies into every corner, making repeated listening to this record absolutely compelling.
While we might already have the ideal party mood with such a sound world, the lyrics are a kick to the gut. More than ever before, the singer lays bare his doubts about himself, how we self-destruct, how friends and family move on, and how he remains old and lonely on the sidelines with his way of living music. Drinking alone, helplessness in response to the suffering of others, questioning his own success—this man spares himself nothing. And yet, there is no cynicism, no peddling of his own misfortune. This is simply a person who writes and screams the dirt off his soul to feel alive. And because the music is pure joy of life, it acts like a huge, defiant middle finger to dark thoughts. One might only attribute a certain malice in wrapping such bitter medicine in such a sweet disguise.
That these songs fit so flawlessly in every type of arrangement proves their quality. I don't need JOY DIVISION to bring me down, I don't need BLINK 182 to bore me with teenage nonsense. But this, this improbable combination, is something special.
And one more special thing: Download “We Cool” from the artist, and if you like it, leave him some money so he can donate it to a suicide hotline. Or buy his record so he can make more of them. Nothing's forever, dude!
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