In recent years, there has been surging popular interest in the ability to live in the ever-fleeting "now," a practice that aims to relieve stress generated by worry of what was and potentially will be.
The older we get, the more this method becomes relevant - a state of mind that disavows expectations and allows us to find satisfaction in the reality of the moment. As teenagers, we begin to understand that, no, life is indeed not fair, and we develop strategies in our minds for how we can embark upon change while embracing angst.
For some, this momentum maintains its strength for years; for others, the angst sours as the weight of "have-to-dos" crushes the "wants" of hopeful, albeit naive, agendas.
Time is short. Growing up sucks.
Junior Battles, a four-piece band from Ontario, Canada, has put together a collection of songs that investigate the ins and outs of growing up, fighting nostalgia and coming to terms with the infuriating reality that sometimes life doesn't unfold in the ways that one had imagined.
Appropriately titled "Idle Ages," Junior Battles' debut full-length for Gainesville-based Paper + Plastick Records is blatantly honest without soliciting sympathy with its admittance of successes and bummers that occur throughout the development of adulthood.
What results is a musical gift of high-energy, guitar-centered, pop-punk hooks sealed in a duration of less than 40 minutes, like a clever tongue-in-cheek card salutation affixed via duct tape to poorly creased wrapping paper.
The opening track, "Seventeen," establishes the tone for the record. Instantly blasting listeners full-force with a wall of impatient vocals, the song introduces "Idle Ages" with a lyrical declaration that quickly hooks one's interest: "Here's a list of reasons we're making this morning to never feel angry or get disappointed. Our body's growing old while our hearts languish in the gutter, and we're arm in arm."
But where does Junior Battles intend to take us?
As the record unfolds, the band delves into an inquisition that likens a poetic confession, a psychoanalyst's rant that attempts to uncover where, when and how one goes wrong by default in maturation. Why do lame things happen to good people who, as the band declares, "are all just doing the best [they] can?"
Twelve songs reveal tales of debauchery, love gone awry, frustration amalgamating into indifference, giving up but not necessarily giving in, etc. The lyrics frequently strike a chord, making this album relevant for different points in one's life, without ever becoming too nostalgic.
From a strictly musical standpoint, it's difficult to pinpoint the "sound" of Junior Battles. It would be easy to call this a pop-punk record, but the classification seems wholly unfair to the band.
For one thing, the category of "pop-punk" is as muddled and generic as the term "indie rock" - what does it characterize?
The fact that Junior Battles is all over the place doesn't help classification purposes. The instrumentation is uptempo, structured around power chords, full of memorable hooks and vocal melodies.
But it's undeniable that Junior Battles is doing something different from its predecessors, although the exact location of the variation is hard to pinpoint. Maybe it's in the noodly guitars reminiscent of the Midwestern emo we thought had been blown away already. Maybe it's in the delivery of the dual vocals, which inspire comparisons to bands from Blink-182 to The Get Up Kids.
Junior Battles' songs veer from steady flow, the transitions often choppy and sharp like a newbie learning to drive stick. This observation should not be confused as a criticism, however.
Instead, it's safe to assume Junior Battles is expanding upon a genre it's been following since adolescence, proving that growing up does not necessarily mean giving in.
