Review Summary: Ocean Avenue isn't just the album that catapulted Yellowcard's career. It's an inroad to a better place for all who lay ears upon it.
Long removed from my teenage years, I don't find myself very often traveling back in time to analyze what went on in my mind in those days. The lovelorn angst I experienced in my high school and even college years is nothing more than a distant memory at this point. But, if I forced myself to sit down long enough to transport myself back to that period in time, I think I'd come to find just one recurring thing I contended with; heartbreak. While I'd expect to scoff and shake my head at the idea that I once thought the romantic entanglements I forged in my teens would last forever, I'd probably express gratefulness for the lessons that made me who I am today, particularly the lessons I learned when I first heard Yellowcard's 2003 pop punk classic,
Ocean Avenue.
Ocean Avenue is, in essence, a heartbreak album, but it's so much more than that. This classic record's thirteen tracks take wearying winds and turns through literally any and
every aspect of a heartbreak; the initial shock and disbelief, the vow to win your former flame back, the cold reality that she's never coming back and finally, acceptance and the readiness to forge brighter paths. Yellowcard were not far removed from their own teen years when this album hit store shelves approximately fourteen years ago, and this shows in their raw ability to conjure genuine emotion out of every passage of this masterpiece. The crying violins, the powerful vocals of Ryan Key, the upbeat riffs, all of this coming from raw, talented musicians singing to people who are just like them; not just leading them, but
joining them on their journey to better days.
The album's opening track "Way Away" doesn't do much, though, to suggest that Ryan Key is lingering on past trangressions. In fact, the opening line "I think I'm breaking out/I'm gonna leave you now", suggests that Key knows his former flame is no good for him anymore. Key sings of moving on through the blistering guitars. But, while listening to the rest of
Ocean Avenue, you'll find Key isn't getting over this anytime soon and he walks with you step by step through the grueling journey to acceptance. "Breathing" makes it known that Ryan still feels her
essence and he can't shake her memory as a sibilant violin flies above the fray of the instrumentals. The iconic title track "Ocean Avenue" also sings of latching on to her memory. This pop punk classic accentuates all of Yellowcard's signature talents. The violin whines amongst the high flying choruses and especially on the outro, carrying the song to the finish line with a blurry of instrumental prowess.
By the time we reach "Empty Apartment",
Ocean Avenue is now trekking through not just the tragedy of the breakup, but the inevitability and reality of growing up and maturing. "Empty Apartment" sees Key at one of his most vulnerable points on the record. It's on this track and on "Only One" that Key truly begins toying with moving on. "We came together but you left alone/And I know how it feels to walk out on your own" he sings over mid tempo riffs and saddened violin refrains. "Life Of A Salesman" ratchets things up with high flying, distorted riffs in the intro. Key sings of "growing up to a be a better man, dad" and learning to stand on his own.
Ocean Avenue doesn't devote all of its running time to
her, but also general maturation all teens must experience. "Believe" is a tribute to those who made the ultimate sacrifice on 9/11 and "View from Heaven" sings of missing a nameless companion (potentially a friend or loved one) who has passed on.
But while
Ocean Avenue may be, in some regards, a crash course on growing up, it's undeniably a march through heartbreak. As the album moves on, the harsh reality that she's gone for good is finally setting in. "Miles Apart" sees a visibly shaken Key tell his love that while he wouldn't change a thing about what has transpired and she'll always be in his heart, there's "a new life to start"; it's at this point that the idea of
acceptance has finally crept its way through the anguish. "Inside Out" corroborates this as Key now tells his muse, "there's nothing I can say to you to make you feel alive again." Ben Harper's crunching riffs blend in perfectly with LWP's upbeat drumming as Ryan is now singing of moving on consistently. But it all comes to a head on "One Year, Six Months."
The finality of this track is astounding. If Key has any breath left to give to his former love, it's on this track. The acoustic ballad of the album, Key is at his most vulnerable. He's accepted that things will never be the same and he's moving on, but deep down he's not ready to let her go just yet. "I'm falling into memories of you/And things we used to do/Follow me there/A beautiful somewhere/A place that I can share with you" Key sings, making it known to her that he still longs for her touch, her presence and most importantly, reciprocation of his feelings. "I will not forget" he sings whilst arriving at his worst fear; she's
forgetting him, she's already moved on and she doesn't know him anymore. These somber lyrics are beautiful and they're not written from a place of denial. Key has accepted the harsh terms of what's to come next, but that doesn't stop him from pouring his heart out for her one last time. The album itself achieves finality on album closer "Back Home."
"Back Home" plays like a proverbial epilogue. Key is away from home now, what has happened before is slowly fading from his memory and he's left it behind at home, exactly where it belongs. "Back home I always thought I wanted so much more, now I'm not too sure" Key tells the listener, now submersed by a balmy California sun. Closing the book on his own personal heartbreak and the album itself,
Ocean Avenue has grown with the listener like clockwork. Lovelorn heartbreak and utter denial slowly mutates into acceptance and readiness for brighter days across a thirteen track masterpiece, clocking in at just over forty seven minutes. And when all is said and done,
Ocean Avenue truly feels like an appropriate title for this pop punk classic.
What Ocean Avenue itself is to the somber and wistful passages of this record, there's someplace all of us can and most likely do equate to the love and loss we will certainly experience at least once in our lives. Spanning thirteen unforgettable songs,
Ocean Avenue hasn't simply guided you through each and every proverbial stage of heartbreak. It's
joined you on your journey, experiencing it with you. What starts out as immature denial and longing for the one that got away, slowly winds and turns into grown up lyrics about moving on and laying the groundwork for the future. But, it doesn't undertake that journey without letting the one that got away know she's more than just a notch on your belt. She's a fork in the road to eventual longterm happiness, as is
Ocean Avenue in its entirety. Ocean Avenue is more than just a place "I used to sit and talk with you", more than just an iconic song and album that launched Yellowcard's career. It's a long, winding road to a better place. And even though I've already undertaken the journey that comes after, I will be forever grateful to this album; not simply for speaking to me or for me, but for
walking with me. If your experience at this stage in your life was or is anything like mine, this is the album that will carry you through it.
