Dreamy therapy sessions

Good Morning’s Barnyard is an emotional venture into the depths of mortality and existentialism. Stefan Blair and Liam Parsons showcase a vulnerable open season of inner thoughts through poetic lyricism, tranquil guitar strums and influences ranging from folk to bedroom pop. Channeling a balance between states of dreaded hopelessness and gentle optimism, Barnyard carries a similar mood to albums such as Crywank’s Today is Almost Yesterday and Everyday is Stupid—a mood of deeply resonant, interpersonal emotion.

“Too Young To Quit” establishes a peaceful harmony of fluid guitar strums and soft-spoken vocals. The combination is dreary yet gentle, channeling the struggles of deterioration, nearing spells of derealization in lines such as “which concern is more pressing, the brain or the breathing?” Despite the sadness radiating from each line, the guitar dismissively strums along, thematically attune with the closing line of the song—“oh well.”

“Depends On What I Know” features gritty bass over soft percussion, cheery like a summer bike ride, yet with ominous overtones. Scattered riffs are reminiscent of some classic sounds from The Strokes, bursting with livelihood. “Wahlberg” channels a dreamy set of vocals, distantly raw and careless, tonally reminiscent of 2D off a Gorillaz record.

Things slow down on “Yng_Shldn.” Lethargic, western-esque guitar strums are plucked with fingers that sound like they’ve been trained through years of practice. Vocals sound weary and shot, almost nearing a point of slurring through drunken lyrics—“There’s nothing left to drink and even less that’s left to say.” The percussion sounds like the ticking away of a clock, contributing to the track’s dusty weariness. Emotional tones cycle through the album, particularly in “I’ve Been Waiting,” which drones in a dreamy arrangement of glossy piano keys atop a compressed beat. It sounds like someone eloquently stumbling across the floor, as incoherent mumbling drags along the track, reaching a peak as vocals ring, “All my friends hate me but you.” The contrast between the cheery piano and these distressing lyrics comes off as an appreciation to that one friend. “All my friends hate me,” but it doesn’t really matter, at least I’ve got you.

Doesn’t really matter—this theme carries onto “Burning,” featuring cheeky, pessimistic lines such as “It makes no difference at the end of the day” and “In your freeway and in your car, ever just think about how fucked you are?” The guitar bridge simultaneously sounds invigorating and sluggish, like stepping on the gas pedal to realize the car is almost out of fuel, as we do our best to trudge onwards.

“Big Wig // Small Dog” is a delightfully experimental track with sleek, jazzy elements mixed with reverberating guitar. The mixing becomes incoherent at points, sputtering over itself, and in other points, sounds like a playful nursery with juvenile lines such as “That’s a really nice hat, for such a stupid cat.” These contrasting musical elements are a nice use of musical storytelling, pinning youth against the distress of maturity. 

A tinge of punk rock pulls through on “Never Enough,” with a rigorous guitar line that determinedly paves forwards. The bridge swells to a wave of churning bass before instantaneously reverting back to normal and transitioning to “Green Skies,” which echoes with resonant layering, each guitar string densely compact and fully realized. A droning synth sweeps forwards, weary yet packed with a tinge of warmth—peacefully laying back and coming to terms with it all. “Country” builds on these themes. Double-edged lines such as “Got a boyfriend and I got a psych… one of them cares for me… the other one tries” and “Never thought it’d be me… I was meant to be brave” carry a balance between pessimism and contentment, over the reassuring blanket of self-acceptance. Atop the quick strumming, lively beat and spiking synth, the track closes the album in a much more optimistic edge.

Barnyard is a delightful expression of finding peace and moving forwards. The album comes out sounding like a therapy session, channeling emotional turmoil with gentle guitar melodies and deeply personal lyricism. Relaxing yet uncompromisingly gloomy, Barnyard is a treat to gently hum along with on an early morning. With these sounds playing, hopefully, it’ll be a good one.