Rocker (feedbot)
Gold Member
The Pink Spiders’ new album has dropped at the perfect moment in time. As days get longer and summer blooms with endless promise, we need a record full to the brim with the possibility of cheap thrills and instagram-worthy antics. It’s not just the optimism contained within this release that makes it perfect for right now, though. There’s this pervading sense that this is an album to end an era, perfect for leaving home or experiencing the release from commitments for the summer. It’s a sixth form prom in musical form, both from the perspective of the kids in the rented tuxedos and in the memory of someone checking their photos years down the line.
This album has been a long time coming from the Nashville four piece. Signing their first deal six months after forming and getting serious hype back in 2006, somehow earning comparisons with Weezer and Cheap Trick simultaneously, they subsequently went into hibernation in 2011. A brief re-awakening was halted by that thing that meant we all had to stay home for two years, but the Pink Spiders were not deterred. ‘Freakazoid’ was written in full already by 2019 so each part was recorded, very responsibly, in isolation in their homes.
Perhaps that atmosphere of longing for simpler times and the joy of temporary freedom is what fuelled ‘Freakazoid’. The awkward indie simplicity which permeated their earlier albums is gone, covered by a pile of ‘Gold Confetti’. “Are you ready? Come on, gimme the gold confetti,” grooves Matt Friction, and we could spend all day debating the symbolism of ‘gold confetti’ if it wasn’t immediately pretty obvious that he’s talking about sex. “Physical touch, and I need it,” he croons on ‘Devotion’, and an undercurrent of adolescent desire that runs through the whole album. But, honestly, they express their longings perfectly. There’s no schmalzy romance or licentiousness, just peppy, sepia-tinted memories of embraces past. The teenage wallflower of 2006’s early releases has had an awakening and blossomed into a thriving, albeit romantically deprived, adult.
Whatever they decided to write about, from drugs to love, has been unified into a definitive ‘sound’ by dusting their songs with hand-clapping, glittery piano joy. This does come at the expense of serious expression or emotional access, but that isn’t what the Pink Spiders set out to do. This is a party record: a warm, fuzzy and eighties-synth-filled tribute to good times, past and present, with the power to transform. Substance consumption is rendered into the kind of anecdote we all share of youthful idiocy at festivals, painful goodbyes are now a laser light show across the solar system, and regretful behaviour is power pop for the masses.
If you think that description implies that this is a “dumb” album though, you’d be mistaken. ‘Freakzoid’ intelligently woven together as an ensemble piece without a spotlight glaring on any single band member. The Pink Spiders’ unified goal isn’t to create a “worthy” exploration of an inner turmoil, it’s to soundtrack the kind of night out that lives on in hazy memories and regrettable tattoos. With all of them working towards that specific, shining goal, what they’ve made is a record that fills you with the shared glow of success.
You’re going to feel like a winner after ten tracks of this enchanted retro jukebox of a album. Ok, a winner who’s finished their A-Levels and is heading out on a road trip, but who cares? It’s a record filled to bursting with the kind of magic that permeates the simpler things in life and simpler time, masterfully constructed by experts in the field of fun.
Kate Allvey
This album has been a long time coming from the Nashville four piece. Signing their first deal six months after forming and getting serious hype back in 2006, somehow earning comparisons with Weezer and Cheap Trick simultaneously, they subsequently went into hibernation in 2011. A brief re-awakening was halted by that thing that meant we all had to stay home for two years, but the Pink Spiders were not deterred. ‘Freakazoid’ was written in full already by 2019 so each part was recorded, very responsibly, in isolation in their homes.
Perhaps that atmosphere of longing for simpler times and the joy of temporary freedom is what fuelled ‘Freakazoid’. The awkward indie simplicity which permeated their earlier albums is gone, covered by a pile of ‘Gold Confetti’. “Are you ready? Come on, gimme the gold confetti,” grooves Matt Friction, and we could spend all day debating the symbolism of ‘gold confetti’ if it wasn’t immediately pretty obvious that he’s talking about sex. “Physical touch, and I need it,” he croons on ‘Devotion’, and an undercurrent of adolescent desire that runs through the whole album. But, honestly, they express their longings perfectly. There’s no schmalzy romance or licentiousness, just peppy, sepia-tinted memories of embraces past. The teenage wallflower of 2006’s early releases has had an awakening and blossomed into a thriving, albeit romantically deprived, adult.
Whatever they decided to write about, from drugs to love, has been unified into a definitive ‘sound’ by dusting their songs with hand-clapping, glittery piano joy. This does come at the expense of serious expression or emotional access, but that isn’t what the Pink Spiders set out to do. This is a party record: a warm, fuzzy and eighties-synth-filled tribute to good times, past and present, with the power to transform. Substance consumption is rendered into the kind of anecdote we all share of youthful idiocy at festivals, painful goodbyes are now a laser light show across the solar system, and regretful behaviour is power pop for the masses.
If you think that description implies that this is a “dumb” album though, you’d be mistaken. ‘Freakzoid’ intelligently woven together as an ensemble piece without a spotlight glaring on any single band member. The Pink Spiders’ unified goal isn’t to create a “worthy” exploration of an inner turmoil, it’s to soundtrack the kind of night out that lives on in hazy memories and regrettable tattoos. With all of them working towards that specific, shining goal, what they’ve made is a record that fills you with the shared glow of success.
You’re going to feel like a winner after ten tracks of this enchanted retro jukebox of a album. Ok, a winner who’s finished their A-Levels and is heading out on a road trip, but who cares? It’s a record filled to bursting with the kind of magic that permeates the simpler things in life and simpler time, masterfully constructed by experts in the field of fun.
Kate Allvey