If three words can effectively describe people generally living in America, if not the entire world right now, “tired as fuck” would be the perfect choice of words. The hyperbole is perfect, and somehow, as time goes by, not enough. Imagine you are young and time after time, you are bombarded with constant nuggets of hell. Roe v. Wade is repealed under the presidency of a Democratic party. There is an uprising of Nazis and alpha maniacs with successful internet platforms. You go to school and earn your degree like you’re supposed to, only to find doing that and getting a successful job still doesn’t guarantee you a house. In fact, there is constant mention that due to poor job management and lack of proper and affordable housing, you are closer than ever to being homeless or getting thrown in jail than you ever will be a rich person. All the while you are expected to have the mindset that all of your problems and the problems of the world around you don’t exist. Easy to do when you have the luck of good friends, supportive family members, and enough money to get yourself by, right? Well, what if you did not?
Imagine that all this translates to you not having enough energy, or even interest, in following the big dreams you once had, much to the chagrin of those who once believed in you and their dreams for you. Imagine all of it hitting you at once, and then listen to Minneapolis pop-punk trio VIAL’s low-spoon punk opus burnout.
On the two-minute ska-punk track “just fine,” singer KT Branscom sings, “I don’t want to feel good or even happy anymore.” The sentiment feels more absolute than the title because disappointment and the lack of motivation to change anything for the sake of “moving forward” is the album’s theme. Another more specific and recurring theme is the inability of things like friendships to remain due to betrayal; imagine going through a world so cold, and you can’t even count on good friends not to fail you.
For example, burnout opens with a grimy ripper named “two-faced,” a song about having best friends who protect other more toxic, destructive friends or often dismiss their best friend’s serious concerns. Later, “friendship bracelet” blends girl-group melodies of the ‘60s with a serrated pop-punk edge, posed as one end of a two-sided song where “ur dad” follows after the tragic ending. Thankfully with such tragic songs comes cathartic shout-along moments such as the “fuck you” chorus of “two-faced.” Of course, not every song here is a rager. You will rarely come across a song as delicate and positive (for a time) as “broth song,” a song about wanting to eat soup, but not having the broth to make said soup.
VIAL understands that we live in a hard world, so you would think finding joy in personal affairs would make things less harsh. burnout lets you know that sometimes that isn’t the case. But hey, at least you have some anthems if you need to bounce off the wall to something.
