Review Summary: tell me emo's not quite dead
Young Jesus has adequately summed themselves up in the two syllables of their name. While other bands have names ranging from terribly overwrought (the Pains of Being Pure at Heart) to the un-Google-able (Girls) Young Jesus has gotten straight to the point and told us what they’re all about; youth and salvation. Released early this year, their debut album delivers on the promise of their previous releases and tackles these themes with honest sentiment and shattering catharsis. Chicago natives John Rossiter (vocals/guitar), Shawn Nystrand (bass), Cody Kellogg (lead guitar), and Peter Martin (drums) have served up eleven songs they call Home that I believe to be one of the best releases of 2012.
The quartet has on display here a deft blend of post-punk and folk-rock fronted by Rossiter’s emotive vocals (whose rumbling tones and hoarse screams are somewhere between Matt Beringer of the National and Will Sheff of Okkervil River) and Kellogg’s infectious guitar leads. The rhythm section proficiently propels the music forward and gives it a danceable, stomping beat. The album as a whole overflows with emotion and jittery excitement.
The album kicks off with “Family and Friends,” a haunting tune which features chanting vocals that quickly become a desperate plea as Rossiter screams “your family and friends will never die/ everybody’s gonna be alright tonight” as if every decibel squeezed out of his larynx brings the sentiment closer to truth. “David” introduces a recurring character in the style of the Hold Steady’s Craig Finn, who is used to tell a tale of disillusionment and desperation. It’s a relatable experience; that of a childhood friend changing and growing distant until they seem like a stranger. David’s female counterpart Eloise is introduced but quickly flees south, seeking a place “where the climate won’t give way to more regression.” These characters are (at least to my knowledge) fictional but it isn’t difficult to see the autobiography within them.
“Fallin’ for You” is a catchy upbeat song full of concise and sincere sentiment. It deals with simple moments and pleasures: coffee and cigarettes or the sickly sweet longing of a crush, and features a hand-claps-and-bass moment that will make even the most stubborn head-bobbers (you know who you are) want to dance. The album reaches the climax of its first act with “News,” one of the best songs on the album. “Your cover band is just a cover for loneliness” Rossiter mutters before his voice breaks into a yell and we’re not sure if he’s accusing himself or someone else. Kudos needs to be given to the bass line here, which bounces along and supports the songs with a skillful melody as it explodes into its final verse. As the final scream of “I’ve got these scars of you” fades we get a snippet of crowd noise. It serves as a reminder that this is a communal album, one that celebrates shared experience and intimacy. It is music that takes comfort in company, in shared wounds, and in basements full of friends.
The second half proves to be darker and more intense than the first. The first two songs are testaments to disappointment and long nights strung out on too many drugs. “Away” revels in the promise of escape in a night out with friends. “I gotta smoke this through me trachea/ Let’s go out tonight/ I gotta put this pill in my pupil” sums up the feeling of a Friday night that feels like the last you’ll ever have. “The Greater Boulders” finally gives in to the tension that’s been building through the album and dissolves into paranoid rambling. Rossiter’s vocal delivery here is simply fantastic. He jumps from manic spoke-sung verses to deep croons and on to the shouted chorus. The songs ends on hypnotic layered vocals over a beautiful, reverb-laden guitar melody. “The Greater Boulders” is the kind of indie rock song that comes around only once in a while; one that contains everything beloved about the genre while still seeming completely fresh.
The lovely, acoustic “Earthquake” calms things down a bit and sees the band at their most National-esque. “Not Quite Dead” begins with a great guitar line and vocal melody before a noisy guitar comes in and the vocals are distorted. This, in my opinion, is the one misstep on the album. The passage isn’t bad. It just doesn’t gel with the rest of the album.
Finally, the entire album is concluded with the title track, “Home.” A mournful yet insistent piano comes in and Rossiter lays his deep voice over it. He finally gives up his characters, singing “I am David, I am David, I am Eloise, I’m jaded” and it feels like he is laying himself bare; stripping away his narrative and diving straight to the source. He begins to name check Arcade Fire, The National, The Beatles, Brand New, and The Good Life which induces a sense of warm familiarity. Bearing the title in mind, for a lot of us these bands are home too.
Home is a record about loss and change, about pain and fear, about ennui and hopelessness, but more than anything it is a record about passion and joy. It’s a celebration of feeling a fire deep within your stomach. It’s a primal shout to a sky full of stars spinning through your bleary vision. It’s the cigarette bummed from a friend and shared on a warm summer night. Their namesake may have been crucified, but Young Jesus has given us a reminder that sometimes salvation is as easy as pressing your fingers against the frets of a guitar.
