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Apr 19, 2019 Web Exclusive By Mischa Pearlman

With their first two albums—2013’s self-titled debut and 2016’s The Dream Is Over—Toronto’s PUP quickly established themselves as one of the most interesting bands around. Tying sharp, snotty punk and quirky, angular indie rock together with a hell of lot of catchy choruses, the four-piece made existential torment sound like a lot of fun, even if Stefan Babcock’s lyrics often suggested that wasn’t the case.

This third record—if you couldn’t already tell from its title—continues down the same dark, twisted corridors of Babcock’s mind. This time, though, there’s a sense of apocalyptic abandonment added to the wreckage, as well as a deluge of chaos, depression and death. The cheery-sounding jangle of the title track that kicks off the record sees Babcock ruminate on whether anyone he’s slept with has passed away, “Bare Hands” is a viciously melancholy pop song that fizzes with despondency and closer “City” is a lethargic, heart-torn elegy to past loves and lives.

Elsewhere, “Scorpion Hill” starts off like an inebriated country song but then rushes off in a blur of reckless (yet somehow positive) nihilism. “If the world is gonna burn,” sings Babcock, “everyone should get a turn to light it up.” That, it seems, is the central message of this record—that we’re all a little bit fucked up, and so is the world, but if we look out for and after each other then we can at least make our time on this earth (and all the insecurities, heartbreaks, disappointments, and tragedies that we suffer along the way) a little more enjoyable. Without doubt, one of the finest records of the year so far and—more importantly—an unflinching portrayal of what it means (and what it takes) to be human in this day and age. (www.puptheband.com)

Author rating: 8.5/10