#twinklingmathriffs

Given the state of things I want to write something trivial. Something I’ve been thinking a lot about. The lyrical content of a lot of bands making up the resurgence of the Midwest emo (with and/or without twinkly math riffs) sound have some recurring themes that seem to pinpoint a certain experience of suburban upbringing in the 90s-2010s. And that upbringing would not have been complete without a backyard. Sometimes a pool. Definitely not an in-ground pool. 

There is something to be resuscitated in the working class identity of math rock, the spirit of that second story window from American Football’s LP. The lyrical themes and the melancholy sound itself revolve around a Midwestern working class identity most of us fled when we went to university. It lives on in the dreary sound of those descending sketches of notes and solemn-- but somehow sunny-- key changes. 

 If we could construct a sketch of the math rock kid, I imagine he/she works in the gig economy, or tends bar, or serves coffee, working in spaces deemed “hipster” while not quite having the money to enjoy all the frills of the social life that label entails. They wear double denim, carhart, and boots, but mostly because that’s what working people they grew up with wore around them. You can swap in certain items as makes sense with the weather. They drink craft beers but are just as comfortable with the $3 PBRs at the math shows in question. The Math Kid is apolitical but is stoked to vote for Bernie. Come to think of it they were actually quite politically minded while attending a Big Ten state school, but gig economy wore them down into reading political blogs. Maybe they listen to Democracy Now!, but NPR will do. Their book shelves are full of radical literature, but their politics are of the Punknews.org/OrgCore variety: drink brews and go to shows with your buds, cause damn the man. I love Math Kid, in case you were wondering. Math Kid is me, if I hadn’t moved to such an expensive city. Math kid lives in old houses with wood floors, house plants and bicycles. Math Kid will learn around 25 that he should drink sparkling water, run, and do yoga. Wait, that’s Surfgaze Kid.  Math kid is my ideal version of my 20s if I had stayed in the Midwest. But he’s so so sad and hates the snow, doesn’t he? I digress. 

 I want to say that understanding the political messaging buried in the Math/Midwest Emo resurgence means finding the messages of alienation hidden in sappy lyrical content. It means finding the political in the cries of liberation that come with youthful yawps at the changing of the leaves. Most people will eye-roll their way out. But this is for Math Kid: 

What I want to say is that math rock and midwest emo/twinkly math riff indie rock, punk etc. Elides a working class sensibility. Of course the lyrical content circles around the basic punk/emo-inspired themes of failed romances, house parties with friends, and the like--but the frequency of mentions of house parties and backyards reveals a kind of working class sentiment about leisure and the work lives of math rock kids.

Think about this example from American Beauty’s “The Gang Gets Emo” off their self-titled January, 2020 EP: 

I fell asleep in your backyard all alone. I can’t help falling in love with you. 

Now look at this example from Charmer, a band from Michigan who put out this banger of a preview to their upcoming album, “Ivy” (Expected April, 2020). The dudes in Charmer are really fixated on the backyard. The track, “Slumber” contains several of the lyrical themes comprising what I’d put forth as the working-to-middle class ethos of the math-aligned punk sub-genres: 

I've been thinking about grad school Maybe I should talk to you Drowning in your heated pool Somewhere between death and missing you.

Slumber in the summer

Enjoy your Ivy League hell Wonder when I was younger Where I thought I'd be now Will you last the cold? Cherish the raindrops on your window I'll learn to let this go Until I fall.

In this I read our Math Kid hero’s disdain for the one that got away--got away to go off to an Ivy league school. No longer are the days of summer in her comparatively wealthy parents’ heated pool. Math Kid can’t go to Harvard, he’s barely passing his creative writing class in community college. 

 From Charmer’s self-titled 2018 album, the track “Roy’s Our Boy” has some of the same themes regarding 

1) the front/backyard: 

You know where I hide my keys on my front porch to my front door I'm passed out on my trampoline Just wishing things were like they were before.

2) attending or dropping out of higher education: 

Just look at the dead leaves Crumbling beneath our feet And that first semester wasn't good for me I get nervous so I bite the sides of my cheeks I won't notice 'til my mouth begins to bleed

The academic calendar of the North American university system is a frequent topic of emo revival lyrics. Maybe it has something to do with the immense emotional weight of the privilege of going to college: one should go discover exactly what type of interesting person they should become. At least 80% of Charmer songs reference university in some fashion. College is the place to fall in and out of love with other big fish from small ponds. There’s at least one requisite college breakup buoying all middle class sensitive people’s entire personality. “The best four years of your life.” College was great, and twinkly passages definitely send my mind back to walking home from class on Fall days, and walking home (alone) from parties. But sometimes you weren’t alone, and that’s the gist of this midwest emo spirit. 

From American Beauty’s first album, the track “Fake Weddings”:

“In the backseat of your car was the best night of my life I fell in love in a small bed in a New Brunswick dorm.”

 It’s also something to be disdained and endured, apparently. An entire track off the self-titled album is titled “Pretty Over College.” My guess is it’s not the curriculum, housing, or the dining facilities that are bumming him out.  

There also seems to be a problem for Math Kids coping with the loss of love interests coming and going from their respective campuses. There’s a lot of “Turkey Dump” type anxiety and the time spent over Spring Breaks is a time of reflection over that first year and the feasibility of LDR’s.

 From Charmer’s “Nurse Joy”:

Are you having fun? Spending your spring break at home for a month? You never told anyone

The college life is a big emotional hurdle, and people in their early 30s are still writing and twinkling over lyrics about it. This is not to trivialize, but more to celebrate the shared (albeit, privileged) experiences of growing into adults through college life. 

Now let’s talk about transportation: 

American Beauty has a whole host of lines about traveling from one part of the East Coast to another: 

Carolina, are you here for good? Have you given up passing out in subway cars? I've endured your words every night since then. I’m just hoping you’re still in love with me.

There is something so satisfying about hearing Math Kid scream the name of an interstate in anthemic wail. Again from “The Gang Gets Emo,”: 

Long drives down I-95. 200 miles of your favorite songs. Train rides up to Boston, but the ride back is always so long.

From Charmer’s “Nurse Joy” again: 

So I slept the whole ride home To a playlist of high school songs I know you'll leave so what's the use

I’ve driven some people to and from college. Some to airports. Some to international fights. LDR’s, I’ve had one that turned into my happy marriage. But man, some long drives with partners in a shaky situation are brutal. Definitely something to wail a chorus over.