Monotony Monday #20 – Maybe Manor
Ode to Joyce
The short of it: Well, they are the short of it.
Joyce Manor is an emo indie rock outfit with four albums under their belt, giving them a total run time of about 80 minutes. Every album ends up just around 20 minutes, meaning they managed to cram a whole lot of music in a surprisingly small amount of time.
The result is a discography full of songs as catchy as they are short. None of them ever overstay their welcome, even if a few end suddenly. “Heart Tattoo” off their third album is pretty decent example of what to expect: a frantic instrumental with a passionate poem, with a crazy catchy chorus to infect the listener in the song’s brief runtime.
Punchy and poignant, they manage to balance a good amount of emotions in their little runtime. From the nostalgic melancholy (“In the Army Now”) to melancholic nostalgia (“Beach Community”).
Simply put, they’re a joy.
Mononotony Monday #15 – Monono More Like Moyesyes
Sorority Noise is More Than Noise
The short of it: A song made me feel again, okay?
There’s a lot I want to say about Sorority Noise. They’ve quickly raced past the likes of The Front Bottoms and Modern Baseball to become my favorite emo/pop punk-y band, and, by extension, one of my favorite musical acts in general.
At first listen, I thought they were another annoying indie-lite band with nonsensical lyrics, thanks to Pandora’s recommendation of “Dirty Ickes” (“I taught myself Norse to sit on your front porch” – I mean, c’mon).
I eventually got others like “Where Are You?” and “Blonde Hair, Black Lungs,” which quickly won me over with their mix of melody and edge. I was planning to write about “Where Are You?” because of how accessible and catchy it is. Instead, I mentally pushed myself into writing about the song that nearly broke me.
I mean, shit man. That’s the first time in a long time a song’s actually stopped me in my tracks and consider myself.
What does it mean to be happy?
And am I getting better?
I used to make excuses for myself but it’s not the weather
I’ve tried to rid myself of my anxious tendencies
But I have to accept my head for what it is to me
I’m not super human
Well I’m barely alive
But I would kill to leave my house and not be afraid of the outside
So I started thinking
It’d be so nice
To not have trouble sleeping
I haven’t slept in nights
Cameron Boucher’s monotone confession is the same monologue I’ve had when it’s too late and I’ve done too much thinking.
Plus, I’m basically the same person.