The last time I reviewed a Bad Year record, roughly four years ago, I thought of quirky pop-punk like BlackDots. On their new self-titled record the takeaway is poppy and anthemic, more akin to Broadway Calls or Ann Beretta. While the bands I just named are direct and smooth with their song structures, they lean toward crisp production. I’d say that separates Bad Year, with this release, which is clean but with just enough natural grit and grime in the guitar to make it feel more like it belongs in a basement than a big stage. It’s the best kind of power pop, a style that seems to be hitting me a little harder in the past year. I’ll theorize that I need more positivity in my life (melodically, that is -- the band name here is Bad Year, after all -- they aren’t exactly optimists).
You may have noticed most of the namedrops formed in the ‘90s-‘00s (though both are still active, to be fair). That’s another theme here. This record is definitely influenced by the past and, within that, it carries themes of aging, most bluntly with the song title and repeated refrain of “We are the youth gone mild.” (Yes, like the Skid Row song.) I’ll call it an album of resilience, of keeping up the daily fight with melodic, singalong moments of brief catharsis. It’s a poppy but unpretty remedy for getting through those rough moments: empowering music contrasted with depressing lyrics. The whole record beats that drum, but if you want to pick another single to highlight it, I’d go with “Get Well,” with the opening lyrics “Get well my friends/ it will be okay… I try to occupy my time/ with failed attempts to realign.”
