Bottom shelf rap that’ll leave you feeling depleted. Their cadence is a draining force like listening to two old people yammer on about nothing. The beat is tired and lethargic, and can only be described as downtempo trap. And if that’s not awful enough the lyrics sound like they were written by a four year old. Of course the theme is sexual with enough objectification to make you gag in disgust.
Continuing his tear down of unstoppable forces he flirted with on Perpetual Motion People — digital gremlin tech woes, gender divides — Furman channels the doo-wop muscle he’s been flexing lately to bow to the spirit of rock and roll that saved him from said forces. The Dylanesque tag always haunted him in his rise, but these turns of phrases just get more accessibly genius folk grit as he ages.
Sweet soul that only gets better with age. Wood is something of an unheralded star, but only one note in and you’ll hear just how special he is. His voice captures a generation and even after all these years he still has broad appeal. He’s courting a woman, and praising her altogether unique style. No need for brash words or gestures; just simple, sweet compliments with a steady dose of love.
Great. FOB covered the Ghostbusters theme in the style of their latest album. Arguing whether the movie’s remake is a strike towards gender equality in entertainment or just another incredibly lazy reboot disguised as feminism is beside the point here. This song is terribly cheesy without any redeeming camp value. Kids might dig it, but they’d also be too young to appreciate the reference, anyway.
Nautical metaphors pepper the will to “forge ahead” through a haunted past, thanks to the inspiration from loved ones. The psychedelic, space-rock chorus is a slight surprise when the track is taken by itself, but makes sense in the scope of the album. Extra bonus points for using strings without them being an overwrought signifier for emotion;
Though both the bros are (presumably) happily married, they take on divorce here. In typical Americana/country fashion, it sounds almost a little hokey in its cheekiness (especially during the chorus’ yodeling). It also doesn’t seem to hold any real-world specifics as much as just fit the bill for marital splits in general. Anyway, it’d fit your local radio’s alternative country show.
This Latinspired track might be skewering our “victim” society, or it could just be a warning to not let yourself be taken down by anything. Either way, it’s got a feel-good groove going which gives its perseverance theme a carefree attitude. It’s simple, straightforward, but not going to set the world alight. However, it makes for a more refreshing hammock track than, say, Jack Johnson.
The “aw shucks” mentality has been a common theme throughout this album, but it peaks a little more militantly here. The Avetts lament their colleagues’ glamorously hedonistic, Hollywood lifestyles of “cocaine and codeine;” they’d rather stay in with their loved ones and chill with some tamer “apple wine.” Of course, they still depend on “Hollywood” for their career, but not without some disdain.
Unrequited love takes on several metaphors, from candle flames to sweaters. It’s a pretty standard boom-chuck ballad driven by Scott’s banjo, so there isn’t much to offer casual fans in terms of sonic freshness, but the sound does showcase the lyrics. Either way, it sounds like the love isn’t unrequited anymore by the end of the track.
While this one focuses largely on the “true sadness” that “no one is fine,” really. But, even more so it reminds us of the immense support our loved ones provide in crises. There are verses on sexual exploitation, alcohol abuse, and more, but the common thread is always that friend who gets you through the dark times.
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