I USED TO GO TO THIS BAR

Joyce Manor

Epitaph

On paper, Joyce Manor should be one of my favorite bands. Hooks galore, winsome depression, and two-minute songs. As someone who constantly bitches about albums running too long, Joyce Manor’s shtick of never having an album over a half hour should be enough to make them as sexy to me as any band that approximates the Spits in both the streets and the sheets. I mean, power pop and/or pop punk at powerviolence length? What a time-saver! I’m giddy just thinking about it. Which is where we’re at. I’m giddy at the idea of Joyce Manor. While in practice, instead of admirably recording and pressing nine peppy ideas for songs, I kinda wish they’d finished one. That said, I’ve met their fans, and I know insta-nostalgia is part of their bag. So, if Joyce Manor have determined that verse-versechorus-curtains is the quickest and most efficient way to manufacture a missable past, who am I to watch the clock?

BLAME THE CLOWNS

Twisted Teens

Jazz Life