What does nostalgia mean to you? Is it a warm, fuzzy feeling in remembrance of the past? Or is it more bittersweet, knowing that those days are over?
Growing up, I came to know and understand nostalgia through the secondhand lens of stories my Dad used to tell me. Long before I had given any thought as to where I might spend my collegiate years, I was indoctrinated into the history of Morgantown, West Virginia University, and the glory days that he had spent here back in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. I didn’t get to experience the long-closed spots of Tailgaters and the Wooden Nickel, but as a student now, I can finally understand the stories behind Morgantown staples like Gene’s, Crockett’s, and the Sports Page.
On “I Used To Go To This Bar,” Joyce Manor tries their hand at stories of old glory, but from a less warm and fuzzy perspective, more “wow, where did all that go” perspective. Nobody can really blame them, though – The band’s seventh album comes fifteen years after their “S/T” debut, and twelve years after the classic “Never Hungover Again” that propelled them to alternative and pop-punk fame. But don’t let the passage of time or the self-depricating themes fool you – they’re still at the top of their game.
Throughout this long and illustrious career, Joyce Manor has gravitated toward the “pop” side in the back half, for better or worse. Lead vocalist and guitarist Barry Johnson hasn’t been shy in stating his influences before, and wasn’t on this record – lead single “Well, Whatever It Was” was cited as “one of the most Southern California sounding songs ever recorded,” tapping bits and pieces of The Beach Boys, Jane’s Addiction, Weezer, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. You can hear this influence throughout the rest of the album, too; “Falling Into It” and “After All You Put Me Through” sound closer to the pop-driven sound that the band took on their 2018 album “A Million Dollars To Kill Me.” It could be unrelated, or a direct correlation based on your own thoughts about this push toward a poppier sound, but these felt like the weakest of the new bunch. Both tracks also divert from the general topic of nostalgia to hit more of a lovey-dovey ballad note, which they still do quite well, but it feels just a smidge out of place.
Maybe it’s just after a decade and a half of refinement, or maybe it’s from the producer of the record, CEO of Epitaph Records and former Bad Religion co-founder and guitarist Brett Gurewitz, but “I Used To Go To This Bar” sees its highest highs when the band taps these punk roots. The album opens with “I Know Where Mark Chen Lives,” a nod to former Summer Vacation lead singer and Television Personalities, and absolutely shreds. There’s some incredible vocal modulation after the bridge and before the last chorus that makes the song’s close punch you in the mouth in the best way possible. On “The Opossum,” the band offers its loudest and fastest approach, especially tapping the themes of nostalgia with the opening lines, “I had a dream when I woke up this morning / I was a shadow of my former glory,” and hits on some uniquely “Joyce Manor” lyrics with a second verse about smoking weed with an opossum with a prison past. “Well, Don’t It Seem Like You’ve Been Here Before?” is a rerecording of the previously released demo “Fuck Koalacaust” from 2020’s “Songs From North Torrance,” but has the same intensity as it did back in the late aughts when originally recorded.
Undoubtedly, though, the band saved their best for last. “Grey Guitar” closes the record beautifully and succinctly, both sonically and with the themes of missing the prime of one’s life. In it, Johnson details how he has this feeling that a former friend, Danielle, might be dead, and how “It left a permanent scar, but I got on with my life.” The chorus sees him ignoring this, though, in favor of playing the titular grey guitar because they don’t have the parts to fix him or whatever’s causing these thoughts. “Grey Guitar” sounds a solid bit like Joyce Manor’s most famous outro, S/T’s “Constant Headache,” mostly in how Johnson conveys emotion throughout. Lyrically, it feels closer to “Heated Swimming Pool” from “Never Hungover Again,” especially in comparison to lines like “I wish you could’ve died in high school / So you could be somebody’s idol.” Even if you haven’t heard from someone in a while, their memory can still hold strong and impact you in new ways every day
Ultimately, that’s the note this record hits the strongest. Time is a stubborn bastard and won’t stop marching, no matter how badly one might want or need it to. Rosy retrospection might be necessary, especially for the Sisyphusean character of “Well, Whatever It Was” and the others down on their luck, but at the end of the day, all you have is the present and the future. For Joyce Manor, their past might be the rosiest of all – I have no shame in admitting that their first few albums have left an indelible mark on me – but the self-deprication on “I Used To Go To This Bar” doesn’t paint the most accurate picture of where the band is at today. Despite the scars, the rotten luck, and the shadows of former glory, Joyce Manor’s still got the same drive behind them that has propelled their career, and it shows clearly on this album.