Favorite Albums of 2017 Number 9 - Bully's Losing

If we're to have any semblance of sanity, we should frame 2017 as the year of the great catharsis and hope it leads to real change in every aspect of society. As the year comes to a close, with the probes into Russian collusion and the deluge of sexual misconduct accusations of various degrees finally being exposed and taken seriously as we rally to take down toxic masculinity in all it's forms, there is some evidence that this may be true. There are probably more literal and overtly political soundtracks for this year, but spiritually, I think Bully's Losing, featuring Alicia Bognanno's raspy, empowering wail of exasperation/defiance/relief captures the moment in a more timeless way.

The power of this album's lyrics is in how personal they are. These songs are all very specific and yet the first person lyrics that are usually directed at an individual offer the opportunity to rob them of elaborate context. And that's ok, because they're ultimately about the way Bognanno feels in these situations that we don't have all the facts for. They are very simple and literal descriptions of things that resonate with emotional poetic truth, particularly because of the music and the way they are delivered. For me, the album's closer, "Hate and Control" with lyrics like "What is it about me/That makes you so uncomfortable?/Can we just exist without your hate and control?" frames the whole thing as being about this young woman screaming at those who would hold her down, either emotionally or physically.

While the whole band sounds great, what mostly stands out to me here, aside from Alicia's Scream (possible cover band name) is the rhythm section. As I've written before about the band, Bully takes the sound of the 90s and runs with it. They call to mind everyone from The Pixies and The Breeders to Weezer and Nirvana. And because they understand what made those bands special, their songs always have a good groove under them, no matter how noisy the guitars might get. Bassist Reece Lazarus and drummer Steward Copeland sound fantastic on this album. When playing the loud quiet loud dynamic as this band does, it's important to let the bottom end pop. Alicia Bognanno's production is right on, with an atmosphere that lets the music breathe and gives a great sense of space. When I listen to some of the best albums of the 90s, particularly those recorded by Steve Albini, who Bognanno interned with, it's the drums and bass that most stand out. This album fits in with that tradition.

Overall, Losing is full of catchy songs that will help you through your shitty day. You don't need to feel exactly what she's singing about to appreciate the emotion behind her wail. You'll recognize that you too feel like screaming at someone like that sometimes. But it's screaming and exposing pain, not to wallow in it, but to alleviate it as a form of empowerment and healing.  Just as I wrap this up, Time's Person of The Year 2017 was announced and it's fitting. Because, really, silence gets you nowhere. Fuck silence.

Best Albums of 2015: Number Three

While I hate nostalgia, my number 3 album makes me nostalgic for things I kind of missed. I was really blown away by this album a few months and wrote about it here. It's Bully's full length debut Feels Like and it makes me feel young and wistful and rebellious and like I'm back in my twenties. The thing is for me, that comes with some melancholy and this album is the perfect cure for that as well.

I've mentioned in passing that back in the early to mid 90s, I think I went through a real depression. To this day, I don't know if it was clinical or if I was just very sad because I never sought help (I should have), but it was ultimately music that provided the support. And what was the music of that time? Grunge and the long string of outsider type alt rock that was being lumped into the same category at the time and was more easily accessible because anything edgy was pushed to the mainstream until the mainstream itself finally shattered. It was Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Juliana Hatfield, Belly, Weezer, Smashing Pumpkins, etc. What they all had in common was the voice of the loner, the geek, the outcast, the disaffected to one degree or another. And while that, in itself was not new to music, it felt somehow more immediate this time and it was of the moment so it really did feel like my music in a way that I don't think anything I'd ever heard before had. 

As much as I loved the music, though, I only experienced it and the whole culture from a distance, from inside the four walls of my bedroom mostly. I'd hear the music and once in a blue moon see these people on TV. I'm sure they were on all the time, but I didn't watch a lot of TV at the time, aside from Star Trek, really. But I did read a lot of Rolling Stone and Spin and was captivated by all these people. I wanted to go to wherever "it" was happening, but I was stuck. The albums, the songs, were my escape.

Anyway, I eventually got out of my hole. But the thing is, maybe because I had the music, that darkness left some strangely fond memories in my head. It's not that the sadness is glorified as much as that it serves as a period where, even though I was "God's lonely man" (I watched Taxi Driver a lot, too, by the way) and had little connection to humans, I had somehow found a stronger connection with Humanity through the music. So that is my odd nostalgia for the music of the era and it's a big part of what I feel when I listen to Bully, though completely updated and from a new perspective. This is that music, capturing those same emotions, but for today and it's very moving that this can still happen on some level.  And all that, with heavy rocking out at the same time, so it's not just a navel gaze. 

So, there you have it. An album that somehow makes me nostalgic for a dark period, while being new and exciting at the same time. It's such a salad of confusing emotions it had to be on my list. Go listen for yourself.