FFO: Jeff Rosenstock, Joyce Manor, American Pleasure Club

It’s early January and those of us in the West are steeped in a holiday hangover. Just one week ago I was half a state away from home, surrounded by family and taking full advantage of any home-cooked meal I could get my hands on. Today I am back in Philadelphia, back to the 40-hour work week grind, and back to eating Wendy’s for lunch every day. With “normal” life once again in full swing it’s easy to romanticize the festivities of last week and blot out any of the frustrations that the holidays can also bring with them.

“What are you doing with your life?” For many of us in our twenties that is the dreaded question, rivaled only by its usual follow up: “what are your plans for the future?” There is a prevailing unease that seems to pervade a large subset of our generation; a sense that we should probably be farther along than we are, a sense that we should be in different circumstances that seem unattainable, or for many of us who are “on the right path”, a sense that we should be happier with where we are. On their debut full-length You’re Gonna Miss Everything Cool and Die Angry, Davenport, Iowa punks Catholic Werewolves tap into this generational malaise effortlessly and effectively.

The album starts off with a patchwork of TV samples that capture the psychological environment of the prototypical “millennial burnout.” “What about YOUR goals?” “A bride suit…” “Another fatal police shooting…” “JACKASS!” “It’s yet another long series of diversions in order to avoid responsibility.” “And, uh… It doesn’t really matter. I uh… I don’t like my job and, uh… I don’t think I’m gonna go anywhere…” Before you can even piece together what’s happening the band roars in with the rousing sing along line “Hiding in your old pullover/ Not your friend, just a coworker.” It’s subtle alienation from line one; relational distance, the substitution of a cheap acquaintance where a friend should be. However, by the time the opening track reaches it’s mostly-sincere but sarcasm-tinged hook, “You’re far more than your circumstances/ Part-time job, or bad romances/ And certainly more than how your parents spin your/ Lifestyle in their Christmas letters” it’s clear that there’s more to be unpacked here than just another suburban punk record with vaguely Marxist undertones.

Where many similar albums slip either into full on “eat the rich” revolution mode or into despondent loserdom, YGMECADA lands where most people realistically are: wrestling with societal expectations that either seem unfulfillable or undesirable, trying to figure out what success means and what it’s worth, what makes life worth living and how you can pay the rent if your dead-end job is getting in the way of being a real human. Catholic Werewolves leave no stone unturned while exploring these themes, even calling into question their own anger and anti-establishment attitudes. This line of questioning culminates in one of the best lines on the album halfway through Tom Hanks: “It’s not the aesthetic of anti-capitalists/ Or the use of an anarchist plot-twist/ John Cusack has asked it/ Am I upset or/ Am I programmed by art that seems sympathetic?/ … (I am) Responsible for/ My love for my malaise.”

The immediate and easily relatable lyrics are accompanied by flurried, angry punk arrangements reminiscent of Jeff Rosenstock or early Joyce Manor, complete with frequent groove changes, melodic guitar hooks, and cathartic gang vocals. At least that’s the case on all of the tracks except the acoustic front-porch anthem Tuxedo T-shirt, which provides a brief respite from the energetic pace of the rest of the album. As a whole, the album also has a ton of replay value. For all of the grooves and shout along melodies packed into these eight songs, the full run time of the album barely tops the 15 minute marker, making it an easy listen and also leaving you hungry for more.

All that said YGMECADA does have a handful of detractors, mostly on the recording and production end. While completely listenable, the album as a whole lands just a hair more lo-fi than similar DIY punk records, which are as a rule already pretty lo-fi. The mix EQ skews a little heavy on the treble, not enough to be piercing, but enough to be noticeable. Beyond that, the performance, particularly on the vocals, is also a little shaky at points. Part of this matches and adds to the loose aesthetic of the songs, but there are several sections where the pitchiness of the vocals doesn’t come from a lack of ability, but just from a bad take on notes that the vocalist hits elsewhere on the record. With a little more attention to detail in the recording process this album would have shined even more than it already does, and it’s already a damn good record.

As it stands YGMECADA is a fun-packed and angst-filled banger, a promising debut from a young band that definitely has a lot of potential. In its niche, that little sliver of punk that isn’t fully emo or fully pop-punk but has the stronger elements of both, it stands out as one of the better recent full-lengths, combining the usual energy and catchiness of the genre with lyrics and self-awareness that are significantly more impressive. Hopefully this is only the start of what should be a very solid career, because I look forward to hearing what Catholic Werewolves become as their sound matures.

7.0/10 (Stand Out)

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