hardlyknower.net

Why you should listen to The Squirez’ Midwest Goodbye your next free sunny day.

We at hardlyknower.net fucking love dinosaurs. We consider them the most important animals in the history of Earth, and we don’t think humans even come close. Consider this an official statement. Anything to do with dinosaurs is media worth consuming, and without restraint.

So when we saw that The Squirez’ third full length, 36-minute romp on the top of a cloud contained two consecutive songs named after dinosaurs (“Triceratops” and “Stegosaur”), we were immediately interested in what the boys in the Twin Cities-based band had to add to the Sauropodian canon.

It turns out, quite a bit. They figured out that if you split up the syllables in “Triceratops,” you can say, “Try, try, try.” Which is absolutely brilliant, in this reviewers opinion.

But let’s get past the frivolities. What does this album sound like? Where does it come from?

Well, though this publication has no experience with lysergic acid diethylamide, this album has all the aura of a really, really great hallucinogenic trip taken in an unoccupied field full of flowers and devoid of bees. The perfect chemically-induced experience, distilled into 11 sun-drenched songs – the kind where afterward, you take a nap, then go get a sandwich functioning perfectly. The sort of afternoon after which you feel far more prepared to take on the rest of your life, a day you’ll remember fondly as the most relaxed of your entire existence.

Mostly, we stay on Cloud 9, comforted by words of encouragement and summery instrumentals – but sometimes, the mood drops, and the band falls to heavier, darker feelings – but always, there’s a feeling of, “This is gonna work out.” They almost can’t help but stay happy.

Without knowing the actual influences of this band, the most obvious precedent for their style of music is the omnipresent Dead. Specifically, the Grateful type – in opposition to the Walking ones. In fact, Midwest Goodbye may be the furthest thing – emotionally speaking – from a zombie outbreak.

But make no mistake: This is not a ripoff. Where Jerry Garcia & Co. may have extended a musical idea for hours, The Squirez have whittled down their passages to the most essential for the emotional ideas.

For e.g., “You gotta move past this shit that’s behind you,” read the lyrics to “Goes On.” That, right there, is a line that could simply be repeated for the entire song and still get the point across. There is no fat whatsoever in the words on this record.

The Dead are not the only touchstones here – in fact, maybe not even the main one. This effort is clearly from the tradition of Midwest rock ‘n’ roll; an antecedent of bands which have graced nearly every Midwestern stage over the past ten to fifteen years. Not carbon copies of one another, but rather of the same spirit. A sort of carelessness (the good kind) pervades the songs – a sense that this is not a “high stakes” release, but simply three best friends making music.

Did we forget to mention that? Yes, this band is a group of friends who’ve known each other since childhood, and that comradery shows in their music: They’re tight. Everything locks together musically.

An immediate highlight from the album is the slow, reverb-encased, synth-driven number titled, “Clapback.” Its 3:31 runtime flies by like a good childhood. “It’s been said there’s too many people, but I don’t know where you are,” croons the lead Squire – a statement on both overpopulation and lost love at once, which is a combination maybe never before attempted, much less accomplished.

From here, we move to “Lilac,” a song which sounds exactly as the scent smells, and transition into the title track: “Midwest Goodbye.” The Squirez lament the eponymous phenomenon – one that this website, being located centrally in Cincinnati, Ohio, is intimately familiar with. The song saunters around the entryway, waiting to get back to the rest of its life. It portrays a liminal experience that every Midwesterner has dealt with: You’re leaving, but you’re not yet leaving.

The final tune, “Hope to Heal,” opens with a hint that we’ll be going out on a low-key note; piano twirls around a heartfelt vocal, dancing vocal line; the drums plod along, just keeping a tempo; harmonies complement the lyrics, and a somber horn blows in the background. But halfway through, an explosion of horns introduces the flying line, “Did you even consider what it was like to open up my heart?” And the song turns into a celebration, almost second line-esque.

“You’re holding me back, now, there’s no doubt,” is the last real line on Midwest Goodbye, and it suits the experience perfectly. All of the sunshine and happiness we’ve experienced, along with the angsty passages, has come to a conclusion: Time to say goodbye. The album has justified its title and its emotional arc, and now, it’s time to move on.

This is just a good album. This is an album for driving around your hometown, wearing sunglasses, and drinking milkshakes. And we at hardlyknower.net love it almost as much as we love dinosaurs.