Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face cuz this right here’s a sad ‘un.
Calling your debut LP Greatest Hits is undoubtedly a ballsy move, but ballsy is probably the best way to describe Remo Drive’s re-invention. While their previous work was heavily indebted to the emo revival in the early part of the decade, Greatest Hits owes just as much to the quirky indie rock of the late 90′s like Pavement and The Dismemberment Plan. On “Eat Shit,” they even channel a bit of MxPx.
The most notable shifts in style revolve around Erik Paulson’s evolution as a lyricist, and the return of Sam Mathys on drums.
While the self-flagellation of their early work is not entirely gone, the lyrics have been imbued with an acerbic wit which makes of the darker moments a bit more palatable. For example, 2015′s Wait For the Sun EP opened with the lines “When the feelings are too much to take/When the ice is certain to break/When you wrists are bleeding blue/And your moods are that color too.” However, on lead single “Yer Killin’ Me” similar sentiments are expressed thusly, “You make me want to start rolling fat ass blunts ‘till I start choking/Anything that’s bad for me.”
So the level of melodrama is still there, but it’s now tempered–and primarily expressed–with the screwball humor and that has always been bubbling under the surface of Remo’s aesthetic. Now they’ve just chosen to fully embrace what has always come naturally to them, rather than forcing themselves to play into a trendy paradigm. For fuck’s sake, the hook on the album’s closing track bites off from Kreayshawn’s immortal (for better or worse) “Gucci, Gucci,” and if it wasn’t intentional, it’s a hell of a coincidence.
However, the telltale sign of artistic maturity here is the thematic through-line of the record; Greatest Hits is a mediation on the validity of love in age where the very idea of possession is quickly becoming an antiquated notion. The emotional crux of the record is delivered early on in “Hunting For Sport” where the chorus exclaims “Now I’m not sure if I want my master’s love…What is love if it’s just you and me/And everybody else you fucking know?”
Now maybe this shows to illuminate the inherently destructive nature of our capitalistic society where personal relationships only have value inasmuch as they have some degree of exclusivity. Or maybe that is just the reality of human nature as just about everyone I know has set some type of boundary within their amorous dealings.
However, Paulson shows his ability to recognize that being used as a utilitarian device isn’t so pleasant in the very next song, “Only like me ‘cuz I’m safe/With my 4-star crash test rating.” Being used as a security blanket isn’t a whole lot of fun, especially when you feel like you aren’t being treated as an equal in the relationship.
By the end of the record, our narrator has gone from seeking solace in other people, to seeking it in material possessions with a literal parade of household item name checks on the last two tracks. Without ownership (of goods or personal relationships) and the resultant power that comes with it, one cannot feel whole.
The utter frustration of feeling as though all your peers are becoming adults by fulfilling the above criteria while you’re still metaphorically eating shit on your skateboard is brilliantly captured in “Eat Shit” and it’s accompanying video where Paulson eats actual shit. It works on so many levels, I still chuckle every time I hear that song.
Beyond lyrics, the re-addition of Sam Mathys has given the new material a jazzy lilt in a departure from Austin Voight’s monolithic, wall-of-sound approach. Sam gives what could be pedestrian rock grooves incredible depth by mastering the subtle art of cymbal tones and off-time accents.
Throughout the record, he drives beautiful tempo and groove changes that elevate the arrangements to stratospheric heights. A good drummer knows that best way to make himself shine, is to figure out how best to compliment the rhythmic and melodic quirks of his bandmates.
On “Strawberita” and “Yer Killin’ Me” in particular, his work stands out. I won’t write out every little thing, but there is so much brilliant tonal work that adds just the right color to the song that it’s hard to imagine anyone else playing it. I normally don’t like busy drumming, but Mathys has the rare ability to fill up of every open space with just the right sound to build or scale back tension.
The only flaw–and it’s not even really a flaw–is that Remo Drive has kept up their trademark of ending almost every song with a long, instrumental coda. While this usually just adds to their weirdo charm, like in “Yer Killin’ Me,” it occasionally gets in the way of the momentum of the album and ends up distracting me you, the hypothetical listener. Namely, on the end of “Hunting For Sport,” there is about a full minute of seemingly random stops and false endings. This feels like a missed opportunity to drive things into the red after the excellent opening salvo of “Art School” and the first three minutes of “Hunting For Sport.”
However, this formula works best on “Strawberita” where the instrumental break allows for the outro chorus of “I want nothing to do with you!” to be all the more powerful and cathartic.
Remo Drive have come up with something immensely powerful here, and I would not be the least bit surprised to see an army of clones taking over the MPLS basement scene three years from now. As Emo and Pop-Punk inevitably re-enter the mainstream, my money is on Remo Drive to combine those elements with their Fantano-approved basement sensibility and take it nuclear.
Get ready y’all, this is just the beginning.
janainaart
areudirty
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pixelskylines
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