Forgetters - Self-titled double 7 inch (Midheaven)
This four-song EP is the debut recording by Forgetters, a Brooklyn trio whose nascent sound combines melodic punk, moody indie rock and literate lyrics.
Though barely a year old, Forgetters are receiving a lot of attention because of the members' former projects. Drummer Kevin Mahon banged buckets in Against Me!’s original lineup, bassist Caroline Paquita was in Gainesville band Bitchin', and singer/guitarist Blake Schwarzenbach fronted Jets to Brazil and, more importantly, the legendary 1990s punk band Jawbreaker.
Discussing Jawbreaker is necessary because they provide the context in which almost everyone will first listen to Forgetters. Jawbreaker was a lot of people's favorite band, myself included. During a career that spanned roughly the first half of the 1990s, they honed their sound, evolving from terrific but somewhat predictable East Bay-style punk to biting alternative rock, with a rare combination of pop instinct, intelligent and self-aware lyrics, and huge, crashing production. After their breakup, Schwarzenbach fronted the less-exciting indie rock band Jets to Brazil, then dropped out of music for half a decade.
This is Forgetters’ first release. At best, it sounds like the high points of Jawbreaker’s last two albums. The personal lyrics and gritty fidelity recall the emotional urgency of 24 Hour Revenge Therapy, yet feature the mature musicianship of Dear You, with experimental urges sewn in instead of tacked on at the end. It’s remarkable how much these songs do not sound like a rehash. They sound like someone who has been away for a while, but has come home with a new perspective.
The thirteen minutes of music are spread across two seven-inch records, one song on each side. Staying near your stereo so you can flip sides every three minutes requires commitment. Thankfully, it is worth the trouble.
When I saw Forgetters in Chicago this fall, they kicked it off with the record’s first song, “Vampire Lessons.” It’s a classic opener with the vocals coming in at once. The song is salty punk with a choppy disco beat on the hook, which goes “Vampire lessons starting now/I need a companion to stalk the night.” Blake is still wistful and lonely, and the song sounds like the Psychedelic Furs recorded in a trashcan (not to dis talented producer Jeremy Scott). Total win.
Second is a slower song, “Too Small to Fail.” Great rhythm section here. I’m a fan of Mahon’s compact, punchy style of drumming. The music ebbs and flows, surging on hooks and bridges. In a recent interview, Schwarzenbach discussed his political awakening, and it’s made its way into his lyrics. “Love as war” metaphors have been beaten into the ground, but Schwarzenbach blurs the line between the two, making the personal political when he sings, “The trace affects of these foreign wars/I’m not sitting it out, I’m still in shock/And this cold old orbit never fails/As the city sleeps, we fly into the night.”
The Bob Mould-esque “Not Funny” starts off sounding like a clumsy misstep, with guitar and vocals distanced from the drums and bass. Luckily, it gathers steam when the guitar line opens up on the second verse, followed by a supremely catchy chorus. I nominate this as a candidate for a tighter rerecording on the full-length. As it stands, “Not Funny” serves as a reminder that, despite veteran members, Forgetters are a new band, and this is their first recording.
The record ends with the romantic anthem, “The Night Accelerates.” The slower-by-punk-standards tempo feels like energy gathering in your blood as you drink beer on a roof, watching the sun set over a cityscape. Lyrics like, “I ought to charge you by the hour for all the time I think on you” are classic examples of the punk heartache that Schwarzenbach should have patented in 1993.
If you are worried about his motivations in returning to a fully underground scene, consider this quote from an interview with Gabe Meline from City Sound Inertia: “It was a pretty natural progression, and I think I have some indie damage from the Jets where I just never want to be in a rock club with someone from the local free weekly being disinterested and asking questions.”
Or, as he sings in the last song, “In here I try to change my life/I hit the same wall every time.”
It’s lines like that that critics like me will turn ourselves inside out interpreting. But it doesn’t matter if those lyrics are about the singer’s music career, because anyone navigating maturity can relate to them. Loose playing and a demo-quality recording remind the listener that Forgetters are new, but there’s no denying that they’re very good, and that they are the rare “former members of” group that lives up to the standard set by their old bands. The Blake is back.
Click here to stream “The Night Accelerates” on my Tumblr.