Every Record I Own - Day 417: Forgetters s/t
Blake Schwarzenbach is a victim of his own past---every new album is met with complaints and criticisms about how his current work measures up to his classic albums. And it’s always been that way. Early Jawbreaker fans who fell in love with sophisticated pop-punk of Unfun hated the sad, protracted ballads and noise squalls of Bivouac. The folks who found solace in the rough hewn heart-on-sleeve poetry of 24 Hour Revenge Therapy felt betrayed by the major label bombast of Dear You. The criticism got even harsher when Blake started Jets to Brazil, and though their debut album sold well, every subsequent album seemed to shed fans. I was guilty of playing into this pattern: I initially hated Dear You and I thought Jets to Brazil were boring the first time I heard them opening for The Promise Ring in Seattle back in ‘98 (also on the bill: Pedro the Lion, Jimmy Eat World, and Sensefield... jeezus). For the record, I have since come to love the entirety of his catalog.
Things seemed a little different for his project Forgetters. After living in relative anonymity for the better part of a decade in Brooklyn, Blake quietly announced his new band with a self-released double 7″. One of the common gripes with Dear You and the last couple of Jets to Brazil records was that they were too grandiose and polished, which seemed at odds with the scrappy browbeaten street poet vibes of Blake’s classic albums. So to hear that he was working with the original drummer of Against Me! and the bassist of No Idea! alumni Bitchin’ on a bare-bones trio seemed very promising. I bought the double 7″ and liked it, and then I went to see them play a packed show at The Vera Project in Seattle back in 2011.
They were absolutely phenomenal. I remember them playing one song in particular---a slow building ballad with the chorus “you die by your own hand / or kill what you can’t stand”---and feeling completely humbled by it. How often do you hear a band play a new song and immediately have it stuck in your head? I found YouTube footage of the song a few days later, converted it to mp3, and listened to it countless times while waiting for its appearance on their upcoming LP. But Forgetters is a long album---perhaps too long for a single LP---and “Die By Your Own Hand” only made the cut as a digital bonus track. It still stands as their best song, and in 2012 I couldn’t fathom why they’d relegate it to bonus content. I liked the remainder of the album, but I couldn’t shake the disappointment. Much like Dear You and Orange Rhyming Dictionary, it felt like a noble misstep. But also like those albums, revisiting the album in subsequent years completely switched my opinion of the album. Forgetters is classic Schwarzenbach---sadness, anger, poignancy, and hope channeled through a literary scholar’s typewriter and a handful of distorted minor chords.
I moved to Brooklyn shortly after this LP came out, and sometime during that first year in NYC I went to see Forgetters play at Death By Audio. I was excited to see the trio in their hometown, and given that the LP hadn’t quite clicked with me yet, I was excited to see these songs played live in the hopes that it would untangle their riddle and reveal their power to me. And I wanted to hear “Die By Your Own Hand” again. But the set was almost entirely new material. Blake was once again looking forward and leaving the past behind. I recognized one or two songs, but ultimately it felt like I was watching a band rehearsing new material. Maybe all the other Brooklyn punks knew something I didn’t, because there were only a couple dozen people in attendance. It was a strangely defeating show, and as far as I know, Forgetters never played live again.
There’s always been a lot of sadness around Schwarzenbach, and given the vibe in the room that night I suppose that bleak aura isn’t entirely a put-on. I saw Blake a few times in subsequent years, stoically pouring drinks at a pub down by Prospect Park. And then a few years ago he reunited Jawbreaker because “he couldn’t even get a job as a dog walker.” And now, Blake’s original maligned band is back and playing the biggest shows of his career.
I just hope Jets to Brazil and Forgetters get the same justice.
