Most people are unaware of the conditions in which an album come out. Gleeful ignorance, I like to think it. We hear what we want to hear: this song is about a breakup, this one is about seeing some natural wonder, this one is about religion. Our assumptions go a long way toward the aura of songs– if only personally– while the constructions of an album matters more than we usually imagine. Take The Popovers’ first and forever only record Make It So! Each song is a simply crafted pop gem about exactly what you hear lyrically. Without the vagueness and guesswork, the listener is completely in tune with what is happening in the song, rather than the external thought that usually conjures our aforementioned ignorance.
“Yoga in the Morning” is hardly the best song on the album, but it is a good example of the songwriting on the album. Easily digestible lyrics with female backups drive a fantastic pop song. This song is the definition of infectious. And the onslaught continues on my favorite song on the album– a keyboard infused doo-wopper in “Sad State of Affairs.” A song about a sad-sack roommate sleeping around, the Popovers’ best intentions are here. The omnipresent lyrics are borderline creepy in their caring and realistic in their admissions. Meanwhile, the verse-chorus-verse mentality expands here– no need for fancy transitions or big solos, “Sad State of Affairs” is good without trickery.
“The Worst in You” qualifies as a slow jam, but it still drives home the point: this is style over substance. A building, swirling verse is subdued in nature, but just as driving and lovely as any other song on the album. Sure, the context is sappy sadness, but the song is as vulnerable and fun as it is saccharine. It moves well into “Do I Make You Feel Uncomfortable,” a return to the pop-rock the album boasts on most songs. Starting with a solo, the song is one of the only male-only dominated vocal patterns. It’s rewarding to stray a bit from the norm.
No song strays from the norm like “It’s My Right (To Fall for the Wrong Person).” With a backbeat that likens more to electronica and a back-and-forth argument between the vocalists on their “relationship,” “It’s My Right” proves that Make It So! isn’t just a flashy record, it’s a clever one. The substance creeps in, making ignorance to The Popovers’ obscene amounts of talent impossible. Surely, pop records can be ignored when they are all flash, and Make It So! rarely falters in flash, but it is not so easy to ignore the brilliance of a song like this one.
“Deck Chairs” is, quite possibly, the most melodic and poetic song on the album with guest vocals that allow singers Tim LaFollette and Catie Braly to accentuate rather than carry– again, deviance from the norm is a plus. “I Think We Make Better Friends and I Don’t Want to Be in This Relationship” is an anthemic rocker with slow verses and a champion-drinker’s stance on a failing relationship. The mentality of the album isn’t so much sagging as it is overloaded at this point. The bleeps and bloops of the middle of the album are fading and the big, full guitars take over. “I Think…” is the second-to-last song, the longest on the record and, realistically, where the listener is ready for loud crashes and big guitars. As “Happy Go Lucky Guy” introduces horns and scene-stealing simplicity to finish the record, the listener is re-inundated with the simple rhythms, the well-placed piano notes and the easy-going, hardly perfect lyrics that kept us listening in the first place.
Of course, there’s a bonus song and it’s so damned catchy it hurts. And it has a back story, seen here, of it becoming the Dan Savage Lovecast theme song. But, I’m sure all of these songs have back stories. Thing is, I’m cool without knowing them. I’m totally fine letting my gleeful ignorance pour over these songs and freeze them as moments in time rather than try and figure them out. There’s nothing complex here, but there’s certainly something more than simplicity. I’m not sure I care to ruin the craft by trying harder than the songs want me to. Make It So! wants me to bounce in my car, forget why the songs are sad at times, even forget who’s writing/performing them. They exist for the sole purpose of existence, to be good despite themselves and to prefect a genre of which most people already have longstanding favorites. The Popovers have done all that, and I’ll bet they’re totally fine with the obscurity that comes along with the gleeful ignorance the listener embraces.
Ed. Note: I’d be remiss not to mention that the link I provided in the final paragraph is a link to the OftenAwesome series in which Tim is featured prominently as he battles ALS. I can’t recommend it enough. At times, the ongoing documentary shows his bravery, at times his vulnerability, but it continually shows Tim as he is. If you watch the series, that’s enough for me, but feel free to join the army, donate, buy one of the records, shirts or just get involved. Please get involved. Also, the Popovers album is available for download/stream here, and donations– to directly benefit Tim– are strongly suggested.
The whole format of mixtapes is certifiably insane. In preparation for an album or to announce their presence “in the game”, rappers release 25-song extended teasers for free. Rappers record albums to celebrate albums and arrivals. In Jon Connor’s case, this is his 2nd arrival. Apparently, this matters more than we know. He’s angry at labels for wanting him to be different, critics because they don’t like how different he is, and the world for being terrible to him. Connor is an outstanding rapper with an insane flow who does not get enough credit. On some other shit, we have to ban together and stop him from rapping until he picks better beats. To be critical is to hate, so here it is: I hate these beats.
Driving to Merritt, NC is a chore. The speed limit fluctuates from small town to small town so quickly that your foot feels leaded as you drop from 55 to 25. My strategy? I just take my foot off of the gas entirely. Cruising through the small towns (my favorite name is Alliance, NC) gives me nothing to say, nothing to talk about. This is essentially where I grew up, and I rarely get the chance to see so much stillness. This past trip, I went to hang out with my mother for a step-family reunion. And during one of the most boring drives in known history, I was riveted. I was listening to my favorite album of this young year, Storms’ Lay Your Sea Coat Aside. 