Reminisce at the schoolyard
The power of suggestion is a force not to be underestimated. Suggestion can make someone think that the words to Eiffel 65’s classic song “I’m Blue” are “I’m blue, if I were green I would die,” when, in reality, the words are simply “Da Ba Dee Da Ba Die.” Listening to Nothing’s latest LP Dance on the Blacktop without knowing the title might evoke images of an angsty group of friends reflecting on their lives, taking large amounts of time to focus on the negative. But add the title to the listening experience and suddenly it can all be framed from a more youthful vantage point. Maybe the lyrics (mumbled/covered up as they are) are musings of children mature beyond their years, thinking back to profound moments that have already influenced their young lives. Whatever the intention behind the title is, this album is a worthwhile listen.
At the start, we get harder rock than one might anticipate. The singer sounds dead inside, maybe it’s his default state or maybe just how he feels after a long, difficult day. While this and the following track are the most angst-soaked, it has moments of more calm, mature emotions, colored by the gentle stroking of the guitar, which pats the soul on the back at the end of the tune (among other places). Say the title a few times: “Zero Day.” An atypical pairing of two typical words that simultaneously seems like it should be used more and shouldn’t be used at all. Having not heard it before, it’s understandable that we don’t know its meaning right away, but because these are common words, we can sort of deduce what the band was going for with the title. Now, the main weakness of every song of the nine on this album is the difficulty to understand what is being sung. Maybe it’s a matter of mixing or just mumbled words, but this album would quickly benefit from intelligible lyrics.
Drawback aside, the rest of the album is of high emotional quality. “Blue Line Baby” sees angst communicated calmly, with some impressively effective chords throughout. They feel like memories as if they fill holes in memory or even accompany moments retroactively. Goosebump city over here, my goodness. “Songs for Sadboys, Sung by Sadboys” would be the title of the two-track EP of these opening two songs, if released as such. An increase in optimism strikes with track three, “You Wind Me Up.” Here is where the youth suggested in the album title becomes more apparent, and this song’s title is quite appropriate for how the music sounds (a combination of the utmost satisfaction).
A pinch of Foo Fighters influence is felt in the next song, “Plastic Migraine,” another strange yet powerful title. The opening chord raises hairs and perfectly eases the listener in for the satisfactory musical ride ahead. A deep, full breath after a tiring day of work or a warm hug with your parents–don’t listen if these are unwanted sensations. The jury is still out on whether this is what happens when a migraine strikes, or if this the happy place the head wishes to travel to during migraines. It fills a similar musical void to The Flaming Lips’ “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Pt. 1.” One of the less memorable songs on the album is “Us/We/Are,” a Nirvana-inspired track with a powerful (and intelligible) lyric “I opened a can, I cut myself instead.” A relatable inconvenience that cherries itself atop any bad sundae.
“Hail on Palace Pier” is the tale of a defeated someone who’s ready to pick themselves back up and take on the challenge ahead of them. Certainly the most fit for a movie. This song and the others have a largeness to them–they fill the room/headphones/mind with sound and atmosphere. It’s at this point where the drift away from the angst present at the beginning of the album becomes more appreciated, even though this song does not quite possess the same optimism as “You Wind Me Up.” Despite the previous comment, the next song “I Hate the Flowers” has a frivolous slapping of the hi-hats and a (welcomed) return of the Dave Grohl-sounding vocals.
The longest here is “The Carpenters Son,” going just under eight minutes–a tune that gives a feeling of a hero walking away from his fallen ship. Alternatively, it could be the female protagonist getting stood up by her senior prom date and wrestling with her problems that, at the time, seem like the biggest in the world. The guitar and synths are an excellent pair, and maybe it’s their combined sound, but this song could fit a different director’s take on Christopher Nolan’s Inception, the washiness and dreaminess of it. Unfortunately, the closing track, “(HOPE) Is Just Another Word With A Hole In It,” doesn’t quite satisfy the craving of being an album’s bowtie but keeps up the aesthetic of the project.
Perfect for the time of year when everything starts over again and people get nostalgic, Dance on the Blacktop will surprise the listener with its emotional weight and youthful glisten. Highly recommend giving this one a spin or two.
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