“when Chousand says ‘good god, i’m so broke’, i really felt that”, a friend recently said about the fan-favorite song, “Subaru”. it’s a simple enough of a line, right? it’s something that we’ve probably all thought some time this week, but it’s not exactly something that you often hear in music. that, i think, is one of my favorite things about Chousand — they are honest and direct, but without all of the self-conscious posturing you normally get with artists trying to convince you that they are being sincere.
GARY, the follow-up to Chousand’s self-titled LP, is as ridiculous as its predecessor on the face of it (you may remember the mullet yearbook photo of Chousand). the titular name of their landlord, “Gary”, is emblazoned in a font similar to the video game DOOM or some late-era Metallica record. and even the first track, “Bop It. Pull It. Twist It. Pass It.” nearly convinces you that GARY is going to be some ’80s-metal-influence thrash record. but within the opening guitar notes of the second track, “Feel Bad About It”, it’s clear that monsieurs Scully, Burr, Piel, and Troisi have changed course as dramatically as you might think. you know, as they say, you can take the boys out of pop punk, but you can’t take the pop punk out of the boys. or maybe they say that, i don’t know. at any rate, what follows on the subsequent five tracks is delightfully loud, melody-heavy rock-n-roll with the occasional detours into metal (just for funsies).
and while “Subaru” is not on GARY, i just want to talk about it for a second. if Chousand went to have a tarot reading, they’d probably pull a Subaru card from the deck (somehow). the car manufacturer is like a symbol for Chousand, now more than ever before. Subarus originally rose to fame as a rally car, proving their might on race tracks. they were lean, mean, tactile machines, filled to the brim with energy. of course, now today we generally think of Subarus as a safe, sensible car. they’re the car that your parents recommend to you because “they’re all-wheel drive, and you know how slippery our cul de sac can get in february, when the sun comes out and melts the ice, but refreezes it again? you know just last year, your uncle hal had just the darnedest time getting out of our of neighborhood. i think that a Subaru would be safer, and your dad and i would be a lot more comfortable knowing you had that all-wheel drive if you needed it.” but you and i both know that those Subarus used to really kick shit up — and still can — even though they are a staple of new england suburbia.
Chousand are the same way. on GARY, this rally car is slowly adjusting to life in the semi-comfort of adulthood. and even though these members might be adjusting to long-term relationships (“Emergency Contact”) or stable jobs (“Keanu”), that engine — made originally for racing — can still flare up on occasion. Chousand can still bring the motherfuckin ruckus, even if they are now thinking about lawn maintenance and life insurance plans.
it’s hard to imagine another set of six songs being this much fun.
three key moments on GARY:
“keanu”: my favorite track off the EP, “Keanu” features everything that i love about Chousand. it’s big, loud, self-aware but not self-conscious. the song not only features the phrase “matrix, dude”, but also directly riffs on “All Star” by Smash Mouth. and while, after Neil Cicierga’s Mouth Sounds, i didn’t think anyone could say anything new about “All Star”, it’s use here (as a detonating device for the chorus) is brilliant and playful.
“don’t forget the beers”: the first single from GARY (check out the video below), the verses of this song are so catchy that the band parody themselves, adding a “knick knack patty whack, give the dog a bone” line before the song’s up. complete with gang vocals, it’s hard to not fist-pump along with this song, which chronicles one of life’s greatest lessons: don’t forget the beers.
“emergency contact”: in a recent Emo Trash podcast episode, Matt Scully explained that GARY‘s closing track was the closest thing to a love song he could write. and yes, it is a love song, but a comedically black one, as Scully imagines listing a partner as his hospital’s emergency contact. this sentiment perfectly encapsulates where Chousand are right now. clashing the oncoming “adult” world with the burnt years of youth.
