#10: A Lot Like Birds - No Place (Equal Vision, 2013)
In 2009, I had gotten into Dance Gavin Dance on the heels of Happiness, what many perceive to be their best record. Then lead vocalist Kurt Travis was and continues to be one of the most admired in the progressive post-hardcore scene. Be it for his two iconic DGD records, his solo work, or his countless other records with a myriad of other bands and projects spanning all sorts of genres on the outskirts of post-hardcore. To me, where he always shone brightest, was A lot Like Birds. Travis joined this band for their second and third records right after being asked to leave DGD so that they may embark on their “last tour” with their original line up. We’ll get to that record in a bit, because we’re here right now to talk about No Place.
As I said, the second A lot Like Birds record, Conversation Piece, was Travis’ first with the band and I remember when I heard the single “THINK DIRTY OUT LOUD” I was absolutely blown away. I looked everywhere for a CD of this record, very adamant that I not stream it or purchase it on iTunes. I needed to hear this come from my speakers through a real CD player. I got mocked by friends a bit for this, for simply not following the format of the time period, but I eventually did find it. I listened to that album a lot but nothing could have prepared me for what was on the band’s third record, No Place. This was everything I loved about the genre, either everything was turned up to eleven or were slow, meticulously impactful pieces with transitions as drastic as the contrasting moods between each and every song. Travis’ chemistry with his new vocal partner, Cory Lockwood, was stronger than what he had ever had with anyone else in DGD, the way the two played off each other in these songs is something to behold.
For me though, what made this album hit me when it was released, was the concept. In the narrative being delivered through the lyrics and sometimes in harsh spoken word sections an unnamed character finds refuge from their own struggles in an abandoned house, only to find the house is eating away at them. On every song, sometimes lyrical and deliberate, other times by use of an element of the music like using a key section to resemble a doorbell or percussion to make the sound of a knocking door the framework of an entire song, we explore a new room in this house and follow the protagonist on their journey to get back outside. In my own life during the couple years of this record’s touring cycle things were not good for me at home either. A romantic partner of one of my parents had moved into our home and ruined any peace I could have found within the very house I grew up in. Simple annoying disturbances like being unable to listen to music in my own backyard without it being turned off to have someone else's preferences played over it or being made to adhere to an unnatural expectation of cleanliness quickly became much more abusive and hostile. I soon found myself in a place where my mail was thrown out, my dog was given away while I was at work. I couldn’t even find peace in sleep because of the violent, intoxicated nature of a fight going on right over my head and often times sought to involve myself or my partner directly being a weekly occurrence, among so many other horrible things that, as you can imagine, left me feeling like my own childhood home was no place for me.
This story does have a happy ending though. In 2015 on Dance Gavin Dance’s tenth anniversary tour they invited A lot Like Birds as direct support and it would be Travis’ last year with the band. I got to meet him, standing at a bar while watching another band. When I saw him I went up to A lot Like Bird’s merch booth, bought a copy of No Place and asked him to sign it. We got to talking afterwards and I told him he was always my favorite DGD vocalist. It made Jonny Craig give me a sad look but the “awh” this man let out still makes me smile to this day and we hugged it out. As we’ll get into on some of these other records, I moved out of my childhood home the following year. When I listen to this record today, lines like;
“This isn’t your home anymore, it’s mine, it’s ours.”
Still invoke the same sense of anger in me, only now I can take the whole journey in with a sense of catharsis. I still don’t think I’ve found where I’m supposed to really be, but until I do? It’s good to know I’m not the only one who had to fight their way out of where they weren’t supposed to be.
#9: Poppy - Am I a Girl? (Mad Decent, 2018)
Of all the records I chose, this one surprised me the most, and while I won’t reveal how I pick these things I will say this; This is the same process I use to pick my top albums of every year and forces me to be most honest with myself. I think technically I Disagree might be a better record and if you want my thoughts on that you can look here. But this one means more to me and fell within the rules I had set for this particular piece; nothing within the current decade. Now, without further adieu.
Poppy is an artist with whom I have an interesting relationship with. Her image and presentation as well as the mystery behind her as a pop star really fascinate me. I can recall first hearing the Bubblebath EP when it dropped in 2016. I really wanted to know where her public image and sound direction would go. When I finally got a taste of a full length on Poppy.Computer the following year I was, well, disappointed. So disappointed in fact that I just sort of stopped paying attention. That is until 2019 when I went to see the Am I a Girl? Tour.
Now, when I went to this show, I was invited by a friend whose only interest was meme culture. He didn’t care about Poppy’s genre mashing or her ruminations on gender. He was a raging transphobe! He only cared that she made silly videos. (We aren’t friends anymore.) I remembered some of Poppy’s stuff fondly and I love live music so I went and wow did I feel I missed out on a lot. This wasn’t the bland, J-Pop inspired stuff I remembered. There was metalcore inspiration, all of a sudden the pop side was like a drag ball at the end of the world and I don’t even like drag but wow did it interest me! The very next day I listened to this record and it’s been in constant rotation for years now.
What I love about this record so much is it really drives the point of its title. It constantly dreams of how indulgence and being made to feel beautiful is not only fun, it’s empowering. These songs don’t even care what gender you are, they want you to get in on it too, whether you want to feel like a “normal, dangerous girl” who buys into elegance and spends all day at her vanity or an “evil boy” who is their own bodyguard or somewhere in between. In the title track Poppy herself identifies with both of those things and tells you not to identify her as either or. She also lets you know, however, that those indulgences have consequences.
On sequences reminiscent of her old, now forcefully defunct, YouTube series Poppy tells an underlying tale presenting herself as a robot built to be a fashion icon as well as our great destroyer. Toward the end of the record we get less indulgent, more aggressive, slowly pulling us out of the dream with tracks like “Time is Up” that describe the end of all life with the death of our planet, or “Aristocrat” which demonstrate that oftentimes beauty can lead to jealousy that eats away at everyone involved. Until finally we’ve just entered a whole new genre for the final stretch. On the closing track, “X,” Poppy introduces the sonics of her next record and shows us these glimpses of the party we had experienced before pulling you back into the violent, bloody reality that we have all caused.
I think ultimately why this record resonates with me so much is just that. It taught me that it’s okay to indulge in my desires, I should celebrate myself, but also to be mindful of what that means toward the greater good. Capitalism is fun to indulge, but it will destroy our home in the end and us with it.
#8: Dance Gavin Dance - Downtown Battle Mountain II (Rise, 2011)
Haha! Dance Gavin Dance, baby! Downtown Battle Mountain II!!
So, as I said above, Kurt Travis was always my favorite DGD vocalist. I don’t necessarily think the two albums he was on were the best in the discography but his work with this band was something special. Afterall, there’s a reason I chose an A lot Like Birds record to represent him. So here’s where I actually talk about the band themselves.
When this album dropped in 2011 it had a two disc CD release that had the full record and two bonus tracks as disc one, as well as the first Downtown Battle Mountain as disc two. Understandably I had to have this, so immediately as school let out on release day I dragged my partner and our friend to the local mall to ensure I got my copy. I already owned the first record, but something about the novelty of this release and my love for this project made me feel I needed it in my collection. I still have it to the day, in the huge stand-up wooden cabinet I keep all my CDs in. I played the Hell out of those discs too.
To me, this record is Swancore. With Jonny Craig’s all-out soulful delivery, the fact that it has rap verses, (not the first they ever did, but still) “Blue Dream” more or less being a soul cut with breakdowns and the fact that “Robot 2 ½“ has some of the heaviest passages in this band’s history this is what I think of when someone says that word. Not music with noodly guitar, post-hardcore with funk and soul inspiration. For a record that was almost this band’s last to be the epitome of the genre they engineered, that their guitar player is the namesake of, it all makes sense. The only real nitpick I can find eleven years later is the questioning of why Jon Mess’ vocals never sounded quite like they do here again.
I tried to avoid this for all ten of these selections, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t do it here. If you’ve never heard this record before, if you’ve never heard this band before, I want you to go listen to “Elder Goose” right now. This is one of my favorite songs of all time. Period. The guitar work is some of Will Swans best, Craig’s vocals sound so angelic, Mess is at the top of his game with his ridiculous lyricism and the rhythm section is so tight overall.
On a personal level this record really taught me the true meaning of respecting the interests of those around you. I know, on a DGD record, with their fan’s track records? Well, here listen to this story. Around when this album was first released, I obviously listened to it a lot. For a little bit there I was very into the song “Need Money” and I wanted to share that joy with friends, sharing songs is what we all did anyway. Clearly, no one vibed with it, but instead of just telling me they didn’t like it, a friend of mine called it “the worst song in the world” and the whole group laughed at me. This really hurt. Sure, I didn’t like a lot of the bland, repetitious metal they listened to but I never laughed at them about it. I took a long, hard look at how they respected my tastes then and realized they just didn't. It wasn't just music, games I enjoyed, shows I watched, everything was something they all ridiculed. Friends don’t shit on friends interests, and that lesson stemming from a 2011 post-hardcore song stuck with me. I don’t really talk to any of those friends anymore, but I sort of struggle to share my interests with others still.
Now, I see this record celebrated pretty regularly, to me this along with Mothership or Happiness feel like the fan favorites from the spaces I see online and that feels really cool. Whenever I start to lose hope in what I do on this blog or just feel like music is growing stale, a listen-through of this record always puts me back on my feet and I’m glad it has its place in the legacy of the genre despite Craig being as bad a guy as he is.
#7: I See Stars - New Demons (Sumerian, 2013)
While I will admit, right off the top, that this is not the most diverse record here, New Demons produced an instant scene classic. The album intro followed by “Ten Thousand Feet” is metalcore iconography, and remains one of my favorite songs of all time. I can vividly remember going to a date on the Phases acoustic tour that I See Stars did and a patron in the back yelling “ten thousand feet!” Periodically. Obviously, on an acoustic set, the song wasn’t really present. Devin Oliver did eventually indulge the likely drunk show-goer and sang that classic line;
“Ten thousand feet in the air and as we’re falling faster the thoughts of you begin.”
I think that’s what I See Stars is to me, they’re a reminder that I love live music. I saw this band live about three times before this seemingly infinite hiatus form they currently exist in. At the last show I even got to hang out with Mr. Oliver for a little while in the bar in my hometown where they did the aforementioned acoustic show. That’s exactly what we discussed, going to shows, loving live music, loving music in general. I know wherever he is now he felt the hole in his heart that I did during the pandemic closures and I hope he’s gotten to let loose at some sets in the return.
As for why this record, well, I don’t think it’s a very hot take of me to call this one the best. On New Demons I See Stars proved that they had mastered electronic metalcore. They didn’t just write breakdowns with dance breaks. They wrote a record where the synth and sound mixing were just as important as the heavy songs they backed up. Yet they still used it as a break anyway! They were also more charged up than they ever had been, tackling political unrest, the heartbreaking state of their hometown as well as certain vocalists in the scene who had taken advantage, not only of their fans, but the very bands they brought out on tour.
I See Stars may, or may not, ever truly come back, but this record will always be here to remind me of how incredible a run they really had. I know no one in the scene has forgotten them and I hope they know that as well. The line “this is our lives, we’re all kings for now” hits really differently with all these years of space between us and them.
#6: Pierce the Veil - Collide with the Sky (Fearless, 2012)
Now, if you’ve read any other prior pieces of mine, I know what you’re thinking. I’m still right by the way. I have two things to remind you of however. The first is that a band’s best record does not have to be your favorite by them and this is very much my favorite. Isn’t it the favorite of the whole scene though? I mean, like it or not, this did change things and that’s sort of my second point. This record changed the landscape of things to come, of things happening. Regardless of your thoughts on the, I’ll admit, cringy to the point of maybe being AMV-worthy sentiment found in a lot of this, this album also had some standout lines. Standout enough for “this is a wasteland” to be found on many a selfie caption, enough for “we will bring the tidal wave” to be on a lot of Hot Topic shirts on the time, enough for “dare me to jump off of this Jersey bridge” to be a staple scene meme and inside joke all these ten years later and for “hold on till May” to be a slogan of hope for the early pandemic. We were a little silly to believe that, but still. What I’m saying is, regardless, it’s the most quotable Pierce the Veil record undeniably with the only missing iconic quote being from “Bulletproof Love” one record prior.
Also, regardless of any of that, this is also the heaviest this band has ever been and I don’t just mean lyrically. Immediately from the transition between track one and two this band branches from sad boy post-hardcore to metalcore with a tinge of heartbreak, Vic Fuentes singing and screaming over stories of childhood abandonment. That’s just the first five minutes of the record too, before you even get into the real dredges of misery and mosh pits. Instrumentally as well, the music is the most influenced in Fuentes’ upbringing as it ever was and ever would be again. Not to bring up those opening moments again, but the instrumental on the album intro would be enough to bring any obnoxious metalcore head together with any middle aged man enjoying the bar band at a Mexican restaurant. So long as the vocals are cut off, of course. The features on this record were something to behold as well. Kellin Quinn’s feature on “King for a Day” yes of course is quite legendary for being cringeworthy but his chemistry with Fuentes is undeniable. The duality and sense of mysticism that Jason Butler presents on “Tangled in the Great Escape” is something to behold. Lindsey Stamey’s verse on “Hold on till May” makes you see the scene of heartbreak and spiraling like vivid film in your mind’s eye.
While I don’t have this grand personal anecdote to offer you this time, except maybe that time my mom was very concerned about me for quoting this record on FaceBook, what remains special to me about this one is how it was a moment in history that, if you were there for, you remembered forever. I understand that to many the legacy of this band is stained and I don’t blame anyone for thinking wrong of me to include this, but I knew it had to be here, it’s an important piece of the culture.
#5: Beach Bunny - Honeymoon (Mom+Pop, 2020)
Alright, again, I know what you’re thinking, quite a shift, no? That and I broke my rule! This is the current decade! Well, I’ll answer that second bit later, as for the genre shift? Well, what can I say? When you’re a kid in high school and you have a lot of anger, chugging guitars and screaming men just have a cathartic effect on you and when you’re building your taste in that lane the ones you liked the most are going to stick with you. As you get older though? You calm down, you chill out and you resolve that the bad feelings you're having have an end, so you get on with the mission of processing them.
That, I believe, is what Honeymoon is, it’s Lili Trifilio processing a feeling, or her feelings, and absolutely refusing to dwell on them. I already talked about this though, I’ve kinda talked about this record to death. To be honest? Probably not the last time. None of this is answering the question though; why did I let one record slip through the cracks and break my rule? To put it simply; this record is special. It pulled me out of an incredibly dark time. Released on Valentine’s day of 2020, mere weeks before the entire world shut down, this record was birthed in silence. A debut record right at the peak of a pandemic should be a death sentence for a band. It should mean that you never hear about them again if they’ve lost that traction. Beach Bunny didn’t though, in fact, they thrived in it. As it stands right now “Cloud 9,” the closing track and biggest single, is at over two hundred-million streams. That’s just on Spotify.
For me personally though, when the pandemic hit I was presented with a bit of a spell of darkness myself. In March when it all locked down a certain unhappiness hit me. No, actually, not hit me, it had always been there and I just couldn’t see it. To paint you a fraction of the picture; I had worked a job that was soul crushing me. I still work for that company and still am not entirely satisfied but hey, baby steps. I had realized that all the friends I had in my own area were very much bonds based on a single shared hobby and once we couldn’t do that hobby anymore? Well, I still see them now that the doors of businesses have unlocked again but it isn’t quite the same. My best friend of about twelve years and I were planning to move in together and yet growing incredibly distant all at the same time but for some reason I thought our upcoming arrangement would make it better. (It didn’t but again, baby steps? Baby steps.) As for me internally, well, the person I was on the outside was not who I was on the outside. One morning I woke up and all that hit me at the same time. I walked up and down the main road I lived by and to the little trail to a waterfall. I stared into it and considered all life could be.
That’s not where I heard this for the first time though. I actually totally missed the boat on this record until one very late night when my partner sent me a message with a link to “Rearview” and I listened to it in the dark of my bedroom. It was so beautiful, one of the most beautiful things I had ever heard. The uptick of the track totally blew me away as a music fan too. So I had to hear more. The next day I had a work related drive to take and I listened to the whole record front to back. When I got a huge bonus as a result of some COVID related work I went on a massive vinyl shopping spree and picked this up. From there, my roommates had moved out, I lived totally alone and every night I’d wallow in my own depression while spinning record after record. I played this one every night.
Okay, so you’re on a music blog right? You probably want to know what I like about the sound of this album. I said it above, but this record isn’t just sad for the sake of being sad. The songs here have intent and that intent is to heal. These nine songs are all so genre spanning being half emo, half indie rock and splashes of near ska-inspired jamming all lining under a half an hour. That length is something that I cannot decide on being a good or a bad thing. On one hand I see it as a bite-sized masterpiece that you can always have time for in a jam, on the other maybe I kind of wanted more? Like just a bit more length?
As for interpersonally, when I first listened I fell in love with Beach Bunny. Like really in love. Like a sort of in love I hadn’t felt for a band since I was a teenager. Like so in love my friends grew irritated of it. Like when I saw them live after shows opened again it cleansed my soul in a way that I didn’t think possible. Every song to me was a life lesson. Whether it be the stark darkness with a tinge of hope that showed me life was going to be okay on “Rearview,” or the little nudge that “April” gave me that always told me; “hey, your friend? That you think is looking out for you? Has kind of forgotten about you and you need to start contending with that right now.” I never considered for a moment in 2020 that two years later I would arrive at the life I’m at now, that I’d be a little comfortable in my skin, that there would be real people who really cared about me. I did start to feel though, every time I put the needle on this record, that life could work out if I took the time and learned to heal. If I really held on and grasped what healing and processing meant. As I write this I still am processing, I am in a way in my own honeymoon period. A period where a reality I thought I had escaped from is creeping in one final time and I could very well get to a real place of joy if I play my cards right. So that’s why I let it break the rule, because it broke me out of so much despair that I owe it to this record to let it be an exception.
#4: Neaux - Fell Off the Deep End (Iron Pier, 2016)
Now this one, this one is important. I know what you’re thinking; “they’re all important, they’re your favorites!” That’s not what I mean though. This one is important because you haven’t heard it. Presumptuous, I know, but it’s likely I’m right! Before we go on, I want you to listen to it, come on, let’s listen to it together, I’ll throw it on my turntable.
Hear that? That echoey, reverb buried riff, the vocals that sound like they were either bloated out in garageband or recorded through the oldest microphone that a yard sale could offer? To me, this is a song, a record, that makes me understand nostalgia. When I hear the opening moments of “Slowstroll” I am back in my very first apartment. I can feel the cold tile floor under my feet, I can smell the musty basement air, I can practically see the ray of light coming in from my glass door that leads to a staircase going up into the outside. For me this record is a window in time and since it’s one you’re probably unfamiliar with I want to give you a bit of history.
On February 16, 2016, a FaceBook page for the band was created with a single post simply reading; “Listen.” The link provided was to a now erased demo. Unbeknownst to the world, Sierra Kay formerly of Versa and Nick Fit formerly of Trash Talk had come together, moved into a cramped Brooklyn apartment and wrote their hearts out. Kay was really in her emotions and making hooks and unconventional melodies and Fit making strangely produced, high intensity rock songs that sounded like almost entirely new compositions when played live. Speaking of, I got to see this band during their short life span. Thirteen months to the birthday of the band’s first public post, I found out after hearing their song on a podcast, then seeing their social media, that they were playing a show at Providence, RI’s Aurora, a bar in my local city with local acts Hussy, Power Monster and Wishroom (RIP all three of those too) and it was totally free. I knew I had to go. I knew it had to be something special.
This band set up, not on the stage, right on the floor with the tiny crowd in this bar. They started jamming and I mean jamming. Not playing anything I had heard from them on their record, just random notes and parts. Kay, who was about half my size, simply said “we’re Neaux” and started singing and dancing her heart out. Getting in our faces and singing words that I knew from the album I had been listening to and yet again, they sounded totally different than what I was used to hearing. After the performance she just yelled “I need a beer!” and talked it up with the only two people singing along with her, me and a stranger. I asked if they had merch or anyway I could support them and she said they forgot it all. I told her where I heard about the band then said goodbye and turned to meet my partner seated near the entrance of the bar. What happened next made me a fan for life.
Sierra Kay, turned around and screamed for me. In her buzzed stupor she looked me in my eyes with all the attitude in the world and said; “you do not leave until every band has finished playing!”
That wasn’t even why I walked toward the front but it made an impression on me. This woman cared so much about music that she broke through the liquor, broke through the people talking to her, escaped all notion that anything else was going on to make sure she told me to respect every band who put on a show that night.
In many ways, that night, and this record, started my desire to find less popular artists, to feel this high again. Every time people ask about my taste, I tell them about this record because it frustrates me that they don’t know. They should know! This and the only follow up were incredible, a little poorly produced sure, but incredible! If you follow me already you’ve probably seen me post a picture of the two core members of this band and simply state that I miss them. Here’s your context. People have no idea what I mean when I say Neaux is a favorite band of mine. All the hunting for new sounds I do is to feel this high again, to love music as much I loved this night and this band. In a lot of ways, that night feels like one of the first times I was alive. I may have liked music before, but as of being screamed at in a bar by a former Warped Tour icon gone shoegazer playing free shows? I loved it.
#3: Alesana - The Emptiness (Fearless, 2010)
In 2010 Alesana achieved a scene cultural reset. Most people knew Alesana. This strange, double-fronted screamo band that wrote songs about fairytales and old novels. They never quite hit it off though. In fact a lot of people were not into them, if you can recall. This was especially frustrating for me, who told all my friends to please give the two singles from this record a chance. For whatever reason, when the record finally did drop, my high school friend group who laughed off a lot of my music taste gave this one a chance. I’m pretty sure it was our collective album of the year. Imagine how validated I felt.
Despite it being their third record, The Emptiness felt like a debut. The imagery and style the band presents, the music video cinematic universe, the novel they eventually put out. It all began right here, with this record. There was so much to explore in these fifty minutes, the twists and turns in the plot, the violent metalcore bangers alongside the emo-tinged, post-hardcore that had a real sense of melancholy to mirror the sense of mourning a loved one who you at least, thought, was dead. Of course, that’s a spoiler. That’s the other thing. This record really solidified my love for digging into the lore and deeper plots for media I consume. If you know me at all you’ve probably heard about me going on deep dives to understand my fiction hyper-fixations and it started with this record. I studied the little stories in this lyric book endlessly as a kid and it would become a habit. I also remember seeing this band bright and early at Warped Tour, dressed in all suits and hearing “The Murderer” live and it being a definitive moment as a music fan. I considered them the best live band I had ever seen for years.
I may not listen to this as much as I listen to the rest of my top five, but I hold onto so many memories surrounding these songs that I feel it only fair of me to include it. To the day I still run into fellow childhood-emo kids who are enamored with this record. Yet I still feel like it’s underrated. If you want an Emo Nite single “The Thespian” is right there. I remember starting to hang out with a member of my card game community and discovering our mutual love for this band and we started an inside joke where we would sing “Heavy Hangs the Albatross” in a stereotypical Midwestern emo voice. There were a lot of narrative twists and turns to come in this trilogy, but this is the record that started it all, it formed a lot of good times for me too.
#2: Coheed and Cambria - Good Apollo, I’m Burning Star IV, Volume Two: No World for Tomorrow (Columbia, 2007)
Nowadays, much as I still do buy physical media, there aren’t many stories attached to getting records. Like sure, you could tell a story about something getting lost in the mail, or something that was out of stock for a long time, but there’s no vivid come-to-life moments that come from online shopping. At least to me anyway. With No World for Tomorrow I have one of those stories. In 2007 I would have been fifteen. My mom had dragged my brother, a friend of mine who was hanging out with me that day, and myself to some outlet strip roughly forty minutes from our home, I think for school shopping. We entered a Hot Topic because, well, we were edgy teens and Hot Topic still sold CDs at this point. That’s where I saw the bare slip case CD with a muscular man facing a large tower, back to the viewer. Coheed and Cambria. I knew that name mainly from RockBand but them and their singles were a hyper fixation for me then. I asked my mom to buy it for me, I didn’t have any real money and she did. When I got home I put it on our computer, loaded it to my iPod then sat outside in our driveway, watched as my brother threw a basketball around and drank in every second of a record I wouldn’t put down for years to come.
To me, Coheed’s records are always eerie in that they seem to speak directly to me. In 2007, despite my young age, I felt I had come to a lot of realizations about the circumstances of my life. I was in a relationship that no one around me approved of, not my friends, not my parents, not really anybody. I was starting to feel like the very act of being born is something you owe to everyone, it is a sin of which you must benefit those you were born to. Probably a little silly but you have to understand, for the first time in my life I felt like I could tell my parents I wasn’t comfortable in the social situations they put me in. It made them angry, like really angry. Like not in a healthy and loving way. So to this little amped up teenager who had more than their fair share of stuff going on, a record whose primary themes were fighting back against destiny and living the life you wanted to live was awfully appealing. In some ways, I wish I was more receptive to its message.
As time went on I kept loving this band and followed them through their whole career, I mean, if you’ve followed along on this blog you can find a three part mini series where I talk about some of the lesser appreciated records in their catalog. They just sort of have it all, a mapped out concept, a love for the scene and all things both music and storytelling. Claudio Sanchez has found a way to bridge what he loves about both avenues of art he loves into one, spinning a Sci-Fi franchise that he has totally invented the characters, universe and lore for into a nine-part, three-arc, prog rock opera epic because those are the things he loves consuming and creating. In a lot of ways that has inspired why I’m here writing this. That’s what I’m doing, telling you my life story through the use of the records playing in the background as I lived it.
In the past few years, I’ve started to realize the path I was on wasn’t right for me. I’m still not totally off of it but that’s the thing; when you’re stuck in your own world it’s impossible to see the scope of that, but when you do? When you’ve tasted freedom, when you’ve gone to see another world, when you’ve run free? It’s impossible to come back home the same. Much like the Claudio Killganon arc ending with this record, I had my own little arc end moment. Two years ago I was living with my mother, forcing myself to hide a huge secret and unable to find an apartment. The night I finally did, “On the Brink” came on shuffle. Its messages hit me in a way I always understood but could never quite relate to totally. This was the end of this chapter and something else was about to take hold. I didn’t know what, still don’t totally, but something would.
As much as my mother drives me insane these days, I have to thank her for picking up this little impulse purchase on my behalf. It’s also cool! Taylor Hawkins, may he rest in peace, did all the percussion on this album and Foo Fighters is her favorite band! It’s a strange little connection we share, though I don’t think she quite realizes it, I certainly didn’t at the time.
#1: Paramore - After Laughter (Atlantic, 2017)
It is April 29th, 2017. I have lived outside of my parent’s house for five months. I am finally learning how to be myself, or who I thought that was. Though I had not yet truly arrived at what that was and wouldn’t for a long time, I am starting to love music again. The way I did when I first started learning about artists and bands, the way I did in high school spending month after month on new music I had discovered until I moved on to something else. Paramore drops their first song in years, “Hard Times.” I am tricked into babysitting for my roommate’s one-year-old, a behavior that would become a pattern. I invite some friends over and try to make the best of it and play the music video to that song on loop. No one else is really into it, but I am. I’m enthralled, this was better than anything they had ever done. As with every time Paramore came back, a lot of people are overjoyed, a lot of people are not. My roommate is bitter, Hayley Williams hair is a different color, she isn’t sad or angry anymore. This is something to be upset about, as a fan, or so I’m told. The internet is saying they sold out, all the way to 2022. As if the record that was to come was not so full of darkness birthed from the most miserable time of a woman’s life as she exited from something that was killing her.
“Hayley isn’t totally sad anymore and neither am I!”
I say to the reaction to the track. I lied, much like the fun, danceable 80’s inspired presentation to hide deep, immeasurable pain, I lied so they wouldn’t worry.
I am at a party. Despite the fact that I have lived outside of my parent’s house for months I still feel pressured to go to these. These social gatherings where family members who all had separate grudges and friends who only wanted to thrive off of others wealth and success gather and pretend, if only for an evening, that they do love each other, that they even like each other. There is a feeling here, like no one there really wants you to be happy, like they could never support you in a way that would make you happy. They don’t care if you are happy. They want you to look happy so that they can be happy or they can be miserable on some deeper level as long as you are their prize pony and an extension of their success. There is no room for them to process anything, no room for you to either. I put on my favorite band’s newest record on the drive home. I don’t “bet” everyone here is fake happy, Hayley, I know it to be so. Aside from “Fake Happy” another line on an earlier track sticks with me. I say it over and over again like a mantra that somehow makes the other stuff go away.
“I’m so annoyed.”
I am babysitting again. My roommates all come home overjoyed. From being out to plans they didn’t invite me to so they could be sure someone would stay with their child. They tell me they ran into an old friend of mine. Someone I once idolized, still did. Tells me they’re engaged, that they had accomplished a lot of the dreams we used to talk about almost ten years ago. They’re in a career where they can help people now. I am bitter that I wasn’t able to go. I’m not sure I even would have gone but I didn’t get the option. I am angry that while I sat and watched their child they ran into my own childhood hero. They go to bed, I go to where I lived in the house’s basement. I put this album on and for the first time in the six years since it happened I grieve this friendship. “Idle Worship” comes on. Its lyrics remind me that this person is only human and while they did let me down by breaking off a friendship that probably, realistically, was bad for both of us I allowed them to get to that point. I gave them expectations but they waded away from me because I could not get them close to someone else.The words come through the speakers;
“No, I ain’t your hero, you’re wasting all your faith on me. No, I know where this goes. Think it's safe to say your savior doesn’t look a thing like me.”
I cry. If this lost friend isn’t my hero then who is?
It is 11:55 P.M. on December 5th, 2019. I turn twenty-six in five minutes. I get home from driving my partner to her own place. I don’t get out of the car. I am living with people who do not care what I need out of our living space. I am only a vessel to assist with bills. I try desperately to hold onto hope, the hope I told myself I saw. I didn’t see anything though. There was no future. Well, I suppose there was. A pandemic was only months away. I am unaware that in three months a secret I have held close to my chest, a dream that I would never dare pay the cost of pursuing at the fear it would destroy my life would come out to be play and be very much alive. Midnight hits. I press play on “26” and I see what Hayley means. Survival is not the hardest part. Heartbreak can be constructive, I am not living in a way that is serviceable to my own joy. I would start one day and as I resonate with the song I believe that maybe this could happen for me too.
It is May of 2022. I have spent most of my life not understanding what friendship even is. I have burned through best friend after best friend because it’s not something I can really understand. I fly across the country to meet someone who swears they’re close to me and while I am skeptical I believe them. We meet and we’re close to each other. We recognize that life has been scary without one another, it’s scary with each other too, but we’re together. We’ve both been sinking in this shallow water for so long and yet we are able to pull each other to the surface. I start to fly home to a life I am not totally satisfied with and although for the past two years I feel like I’m finally a little bit myself, it’s scary without my friend, without my sister. I prepare to press play on this record, I expect to cry when “Idle Worship” comes on. I don’t, but I do when “Pool” does.
It is June 1st, 2022. I have a post about my top ten favorite albums half done in my Google Drive. I want it up in five days and it seems impossible. I have only just finished the note taking process. I still have to write half of this thing in five days. Not to mention edit it. I am in tears writing about my favorite record. I think about a lot of my loved ones and how I know they mean well, but how tired I am of them suffocating me, how tired I am of getting over it and I know, after spending some time somewhere else, that getting it off of my chest is so close. No one can tell me how to feel, I finally understand that. I am who I am, I became what I became because of everything I’ve done, all the music I’ve consumed, all the people who abused and loved me. So much of that dredges up listening to my ten favorite records. I am unafraid for once to show the world what I’ve been through using the songs that got me through it. After five years, “Tell Me How” finally makes sense to me. I can do this in five days.
If you’ve dived into this darkness with me, thank you. It was a lot to dig up and I don’t expect many people to see it. This blog is important to me. At first it was something to pass the time during a pandemic. Now it’s become how I consume art and use it to arrive at my own resolutions. This was my 100th post, it was the most honest one yet and I expect to do a lot more, evolve more and more with the way I present all of this. For now though? Thank you for reading.
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