Worriers
Imaginary Life
Reviewed by: Ziggy Merritt
While any number of tried and true songwriters of the punk variety can claim to promote progressive politics and culture, few do it so boldly as the Worriers. Their debut album, Imaginary Life, extends their charged vocabulary as they incorporate topical concerns such as police brutality along with the smart inclusion of non-binary gender expression. While the territory they tread here is familiar for the band, Imaginary Life marks the first occasion where they’ve canvassed it so thoroughly.
It begins with their opener “Jinx”, a slow, careful intro into the refreshingly honest voice of Lauren Denitzio before the wail and feedback present on “Plans” rushes into view. What follows is a smorgasbord of inventive lyricism and crisp, present vocals no doubt pushed further into focus by Against Me!’s Laura Jane Grace who produced the album. Both Denitzio and Grace work in unison to propel a narrative that battles against heteronormativity, complacency, and the awful awkwardness of gender dysphoria. These themes are explored in full through tracks such as the mid-album treat of “Peacetime”, a playful satire on that same complacency. “I’ll retire at sixty-five with money in the bank”, Denitzio sings. “I’ll build this house and never leave.” While trying not to read too far into the content, here the lyrics seem to depict a fantasy life where the excuse of retirement acts as a foil against proactive measures on social injustices.
In other areas Denitzio is much more direct. “Yes All Cops” is a pure and powerful response to the crisis of police brutality as she stuns singing, “sometimes silence is a loaded gun in the hands of all of us.” They empower the marginalized who have been affected by the corruption and militarization of the police force, in turn keeping true to values associated with the millennial punk community. Defiant to the end, Denitzio follows this track with “They/Them/Theirs”, one of the few instances in memory where the frustration associated with gender dysphoria and non-binary pronouns is so neatly defined and encapsulated.
But while the content on the album displays the maturation of a gifted songwriter coming into their own, one concern comes through on repeated listens and that is the intensity. There are times, particularly toward the back half of Imaginary Life, where I wish the arrangement of strings and percussion took as much risk as the lyrics. The same intensity that so well defined the Worriers’ previous EP, Cruel Optimist feels more muzzled here when placed against the brilliance of the lyrics. It’s hard to tell if such a thing was purposeful or intended as, having been to a somewhat recent gig of theirs at the Boot and Saddle, I can speak to the unrestrained and furious licks that Audrey Zee Whitesides and Lou Hanman are able to produce. But while an occasionally underwhelming arrangement pops up here and there, Imaginary Life remains a truly novel album, one that’s unashamed of its identity.
Rating: Bad-Ass
