Joyce Manor - 40 oz. to Fresno

Album Review

Jun 17

Joyce Manor

40 oz. to Fresno

Fading youth, being directionless, and reflecting on a career that may very well have reached its peak heretofore - Joyce Manor brought no shortage of topics to muse over on their sixth studio album.

The year is 2022, and for the first time since the “before-times,” Joyce Manor fans worldwide have a new album to listen to and fall in love with.

It’s been four years since the world last heard from Torrance, California’s favorite indie punks (compilation albums notwithstanding), and a lot has changed; public health-wise, economically, geopolitically…

If there was a new album to kick back and listen to with the hope that everything would feel like it did “in the before-times,” this would be it. Seriously, if a bag of ketchup chips (Canadian bias!) and a pint of ice cream are “comfort food,” then please, by all means, consider 40 oz to Fresno comfort music.

What exactly is “comfort music”? Simply put: this new Joyce Manor album sounds like, well…Joyce Manor! After almost a decade and a half, one might hope their band can pump out a sound that is decisively theirs. The only detraction or downside to this lies in contrast imposed by their previous, more adventurous efforts.

For example, 40 oz.’s catchy, sensible songwriting leaves little to be desired in a vacuum, but digesting this effort might leave one a little hungry after experiencing the massive sound and brave venture into more 80s-influenced songwriting on 2018’s Million Dollars To Kill Me.

Fans putting in their headphones eager to hear which genre-popular-in-a-bygone-era the band might try and revive this time around to evolve their sound could reach the end of the record feeling betrayed.

40 oz. to Fresno isn’t a bold step into new territory, not for alternative music in general, nor for the band.

That said, the band clearly understands what they’ve done well in the past and made sure to bring bits and pieces from their former selves in years past along for the ride this time.

That aforementioned 80s influence still shines on the new record’s opening track, “Souvenir,” particularly in vocalist Barry Johnson’s delivery, which calls to mind both Robert Smith and Morrissey, albeit with the reverb and delay dialed back - just a touch.

There’s still a filling dose of garage rock revival smattered throughout this record, as evidenced by the warm, fuzzy guitar leads over brash, fast rhythms.

However, the most striking element of this record is Johnson’s voice. This is the smoothest and most complete that Johnson’s vocals have sounded to date, with confident baritone boomings found throughout the album, flourished with fearless falsetto sprinkled over tracks like “Reason To Believe” and “Gotta Let It Go.”

As it were, Joyce Manor also had a guest of honor for this effort: Tony Thaxton of Motion City Soundtrack fame.

A veritable indie rock/pop-punk/emo-rock legend behind the kit, Thaxton plays his parts flawlessly, though as diehard fans of MCS might deduce/speculate, he is likely also playing them as instructed. There is a certain Thaxton-y quality missing from the way the drums on this record were written, which is understandable, as you might think that the gents in the band had some ideas of what they were looking for behind these songs. Ever the polite guest (we’ll assume), he was likely happy to oblige.

The flip side is that perhaps the man with the sticks simply decided to dial back the intricate, show-stealing capabilities he has already shared with the world many times over in favor of serving the album as needed. If so, mission accomplished; make no mistake - 40 oz. to Fresno sounds undeniably like a Joyce Manor record.

Fading youth, being directionless, reflecting on a career that may very well have reached its peak heretofore (and taking a second to point and laugh at those that certainly have on “You’re Not Famous Anymore”); Joyce Manor brought no shortage of topics to muse over in their sixth studio album. Johnson croons about his lack of navigation as he wanders into this next phase of his career on “Souvenir”:

“My obsession, it’s my creation. You’ll understand it’s not important now. All I need is coordination, I can’t imagine my destination.”

After 14 years of writing and touring, achieving notable success at the indie level, it’s tough to imagine where the band goes from here. After all, in the time they’ve been doing this, there have been 3 different presidents!

Do they push further in the hopes of breaking through to another level of stardom on their 7th effort, against all odds?

Do they ride the plateau of moderate success for as long as it’s still enjoyable, or at least viable to do so?

Do they call it a day sooner than expected?

It isn’t difficult to understand why someone in their position might be pondering these things. They’ve achieved the dream of being successful musicians. They’ve found new ways to grow their sound. With this new release, they’ve also found a way to make great music in the comfort of the sound they’ve already fostered.

“Don’t Try” is an emotional haymaker, waiting for you to get settled after the first few tracks so it can hit you and leave you wondering where you are for a moment.

It’s a short song (novel idea for this band, right?), and it wastes no time tackling feelings of restlessness, mortality, melancholy, and longing. The refrain “Sometimes I feel so far away, I missed you so much today” delivered in Johnson’s patented scorched-fry delivery could make anybody currently separated from their loved ones feel understood and heartbroken all at once.

“Gotta Let It Go” was an obvious choice for the lead single. The song is catchy as hell, with a 90s alt-rock riff that might have Billy Corgan stop in his tracks, put his business as a wrestling promoter on hold for a moment, and think to himself, “Did I write that? No? Well, I should have.”

Tasteful harmonies and cymbal-washed drums back a simple but objectively singable chorus. The track is immediately ushered aside by the instant energy of “Dance With Me,” a song that flexes pleasant dynamic range, with chill, bass-led versus filling the gaps between big, danceable choruses (can’t help but wonder if that inspired the title or lyrics).

In all seriousness, it isn’t a stretch whatsoever to envision a venue full of people bouncing up and down during the intro and choruses of this track, taking a break to refuel during verses as Barry Johnson churns out more rabbit metaphors than you might expect someone to be capable of fitting in one song. Jubilant guitar leads fly free throughout this one, reaching an apex with a nice harmonized bit to conclude the solo.

Final tracks “Did You Ever Know?” and “Secret Sisters” conclude the record, as Johnson points out in the former:

“Leaving nothing behind….”

This is, of course, after lyrics about drinking in parks, lust, love, and loss have been signed, sealed, and delivered in song.

The album closer, “Secret Sisters,” is only song not featuring Tony Thaxton on drums, but instead Kurt Walcher. The finale would almost sound just as at home on the band’s first, self-titled record, with its distorted, disheveled feel. Had that first record not already been named Joyce Manor, it’s guaranteed that this latest album would be because, for the last time, it ~sounds like Joyce Manor~.

The band respects your time as they pack 9 songs into a tight 16 minutes and 43 seconds, keeping pace with previous efforts, like their 2014 album Never Hungover Again, which featured 10 songs snugly residing within just over 19 minutes of length. Always ones to get on with it and say what they need to say in roughly 2-minute chunks, Joyce Manor once again begs the question: why not check this one out? You’ve definitely got the time to.

Overall ~vibe~: The band decidedly took 3 steps back to take 4 steps forward and deliver an album that no Joyce Manor fan should feel disappointed with. That in and of itself is a pretty tall order for a band on their sixth album.

40 oz. to Fresno is a wholly listenable affair with happy, buzzing guitars aplenty, and again, because it bears repeating, Barry Johnson’s best performance song-for-song as a vocalist thus far. While it seems stripped back from the bolder, more prominent sounds they flaunted on their 2018 and 2016 releases, this album is short, sweet, fast, and fun.

In the end, isn’t that what you want from comfort music?