WASHINGTON — A new press release from the APA updated the definition of normal psychological well-being to better reflect the realities of life in the 21st century, according to anhedonic sources.
“From time to time, the baseline of what constitutes mental wellness needs to be revised,” said APA spokesperson Amelia Caldwell as she chewed a handful of Zoloft. “These updates compensate for changing cultural and environmental circumstances. A ‘death wish’ was once the sign of a person in deep distress, but given that the very fabric of society seems to be unraveling, coupled with stagnant wages, ever-rising expenses, and looming ecological collapse, that sentiment is now par for the course for being human in present times”
Struggling working people such as Maya Santiago, 34, have been largely relieved to find out that their near-crippling ennui is now considered completely average.
“I thought that the overwhelming desire to lie down and never get up meant I had severe psychological issues,” said Santiago, getting ready to leave for one of her three jobs. “I just lived with it because I couldn’t afford therapy. However, the new guidelines are saying that I’m not as fucked up as I thought I was—I’m just a typical American citizen. It makes me feel better that I’m not the only one who fantasizes about being struck down by a meteor on my way to work. Mind you, I’m not actively suicidal at all. I just kinda think being dead without actually killing myself would be easier and way less exhausting.”
Psychologist Karl Schweitzer believes increases in apathy and despair among the general population should be expected, considering the state of the world.
“You hear this nonsense such as, ‘people don’t want to work anymore,’” said Schweitzer while puffing on his pipe. “Can you blame them? When boomers were young, they could pay for college flipping burgers, buy a house on a single salary, and retire with a pension. Now people can’t afford to even rent. The average American is being crushed under a debt burden with no prospect of relief. Our political system is breaking down, and we’re headed toward climate disaster. It’s only natural for people to be walking around secretly wishing a piano would fall on them.”
As of press time, the APA had issued an addendum noting that the guidelines do not apply to the very wealthy, who tend to get on just fine regardless of the nightmarish conditions of modern existence.
New Jersey’s pride and joy, rock and roll for your party and soul, absolutely put the “man” in “manthem” with their anthemic punk rock tunes over the course of their illustrious career that started in the late-80s. The Garden State natives released two full-lengths for Rise Records in the 2010s, this one, “Simplicity” being their last RR LP. The Bouncing Souls went back to their 90s/00s roots for this one, which makes sense as they were mid-tier Epitaph ’90s punk rock acts, and just got better with age. Working with John Seymour, who previously produced the band’s all killer no filler records “How I Spent My Summer Vacation” and “Anchors Away” was a smart move, and Mr. Seymour successfully and succinctly made this an all protein and no carbs effort. It’s up to us and now you to spread the gospel of “Simplicity”.
The Color Morale’s last Rise Records, uh, record ended their relationship with RR in style, and remains their most solid front-to-back LP, and yes, we listened to Fearless Records’ two follow-ups “Hold On Pain Ends” and “Desolate Divine.” We’re still confused as to why or how this band, the saviors themselves, didn’t blow up to other mega-successful and more inferior Rise Records’ metalcore band’s heights, but sometimes cream doesn’t rise (get it?) to the top, and mirrors become smoke. Maybe the world wasn’t ready for a more high-pitched scream in 2013 like Knocked Loose partook in just three years later on their Pure Noise Records debut “Laugh Tracks,” but we’re not giggling and will die choking on nothing. In closing, Rockford, Illinois needs to be known more for TCM than the Mendelssohn Club and Phantom Regiment.
Crown the Empire’s metalcore meets Panic! at the Disco debut LP “The Fallout” launched the band to underground acclaim and it looked like their sophomore follow-up “The Resistance: The Rise of the Runaways” was going to put the band in Sleeping With Sirens or Pierce the Veil scene territory in terms of domination, but it was a setback asking the question as to whether ambition can occur too soon. Spoiler alert: It can, and it did. While the band’s second record was great in its own right, and we mean that, if the order between albums #2 and #3 were switched, and “Retrograde,” their no filler back to basics LP, was immediately released after “The Fallout” there would be no, err, fallout here amongst the world at large. Plus “Hologram” is the band’s best single across all their five records, and former vocalist/screamer David Escamilla goes down swinging.
If you absolutely love Linkin Park’s first two breakout records but wanted a dash of Midwestern aww shucks Joey Sturgis-esque metalcore added to the mix, then Dangerkids’ debut full-length album “Collapse” and their non-Rise Records follow-up “blacklist_” are for you with or without lowercase fonts and hyphens. Want proof? Dangerkids even reference Linkin in their own songs! Since we’re here to discuss “Collapse” we must say on record that next to the yet-to-be-listed Racquet Club, this LP is the most underrated one on this list. Fun fact that will more than wake you up: DK’s musical svengali/rapper/clean vocalist Tyler Smyth is one of the biggest producers in rock now, working behind the boards for Falling In Reverse, I Prevail, blessthefall, and cursethewinter, and his epic work on this album foreshadowed his success… Countdown for more!
Next to heavy lyrically dense screaming and singing peers Underoath, Dayton, Ohio’s Christian metalcore stars known as The Devil Wears Prada had the second strongest hold on the Jesus blegh scene in the late aughts-early 2010s. However, “Transit Blues” is by far their most slept on release, and the band with the crappiest name next to The The’s prior LPs and EPs are shown so much more love than their sixth LP/last for RR, and even their two follow-ups “The Act” and “Color Decay” succeed in getting the band more praise (poison). TDWP showcased a machine gun amount of raw energy from the first seconds of “Transit Blues” until its end, and sometimes acts that attempt this approach sound way too processed, but not in this case! Overproduced? Maybe, but it doesn’t sound like such and the drumstick opening absolutely kills, and is quite unique for this world.
Galactic Empire’s debut full-length self-titled LP is essentially authentic metal covers of Star Wars tunes executed to perfection for fans of both Comic-Con and Periphery alike, and we aren’t taking any further questions on the matter, no matter how many times you ask us to. Sadly, the band doesn’t gig that often anymore in 2023, but if you ever have the chance to see Galactic Empire, stop whatcha doin’ cause they’re about to ruin the image and the style that ya used to with authentic AF costumes and a killer set that a true brainwashed Stormtrooper could never ever do. Once you’re through with their Star Wars catalog, check out the band’s two new Pure Noise Records released themes for “Indiana Jones” and “Jurassic Park” released this past summer. We’d love to see the live costume changes for these two versions!
Rumor has it that Goldfinger’s frontman, and producer for no bands that you like because you’re so hip, John Feldmann’s favorite GF album is this one, “The Knife,” the band’s lucky #7 album altogether, and their lone release for Rise Records. If you thought that ska-punk died last century, you might have been right until 2017, so think again, as these tunes will literally cut you with all utensils, and force your feet at knife-point to dance and body to skank unctrollably. Who’s laughing now? Not us! Also, “The Knife” has more features than you can count from exclusively numbered acts like 311, Twenty One Pilots, blink-182, and 112, proving that a multi-person hip-hop outlook can work in rock. Thankfully the band released a follow-up to this on their own label Big Noise, “Never Look Back,” and said LP deserves your affection as well!
Canberra, Australia’s Hands Like Houses is way bigger down UNDA than stateside, and has the fantastic cover of Australian gods’ Silverchair’s “Ana’s Song (Open Fire)” on a covers compilation called “Spawn (Again): A Tribute To Silverchair” via Aussie powerhouse label UNFD to show for it. The band sadly is more of a support slot here in the States, and their timeless second LP “Unimagine” forever questions said status, even ten years after its initial release. The band even released a five-song EP called “reimagine” which takes five tracks from “Unimagine” and epically reinterprets them. The band honestly has few parallels from the 2010s that handle grit/saccharine so well, and most others lie in the oceandust. If you’re in the mood to go WTF, watch the music video for “A Tale Of Outer Suburbia” this very moment.
Like we mentioned before in the section on Dangerkids, Racquet Club is easily and without question the most underrated band on this list. What we failed to speak about is that the band is also by far the most misspelled unit as well by much more than four minute miles. Featuring members of punk rock credibility approved acts The Jealous Sound, Knapsack, Samiam, and Joan Osborne, the band released a ten-track self-titled record and broke up not too long after. Pity as this one would please both ’90s post-hardcore heads and new kids just learning about the undefinable genre and letting beauty find them. We’re not sure how this one fell through the cracks, but it could be image and age-based, which sucks A LOT on any musical battlefield. Currently the band has less than two thousand monthly listeners on Spotify so it’s on you to change that!
Sevendust, a heavy band’s band of choice, released fourteen albums thus far, and we look forward to fourteen more/then some! Their twelfth full-length, and first for Rise Records, “All I See Is War,” likely fell under your radar, so we forgive you, but not really. This LP works as a solid restart for both old-head Sevendust neckbeard fans and a great intro to yet-to-be converted ones with peach fuzz. Producer Michael “Elvis” Baskette, who also worked on classic Chevelle, Falling In Reverse, Alter Bridge, and Nina Simone records, captured the band brilliantly and gave each instrument time to shine in both the background and foreground, which is difficult to do for any band, much less an aggressive one like Sevendust. The band and label agreed as Baskette produced the next two LPs “Blood & Stone” and “Truth Killer”.
It is a somber reminder that before the feast, there must be a sacrifice. Tonight, we must forego seeing Linda Carter spin around a bunch. Tonight there will be no Bill Bixby transforming into green Lou Ferrigno. But fear not humble viewer, for your sacrifice will be rewarded eternally.
Many younglings are perplexed by the special’s opening sequence, specifically as to why Han Solo’s lines are delivered so woodenly when he and Chewbacca are in such a high stakes dangerous situation. What St.Han is showing us is that sometimes we all have contractual obligations, and you don’t always need to do a good job, or mentally be there at all, but you do need to fulfill them.
Three Wookiees stranded together in a high-rise tree house, furnished late ‘70s modern with some space stuff sprinkled throughout. They moan at each other indecently. Do they know one another? It isn’t clear, because there are no subtitles. What is clear is that the creatures seem to be driving each other insane, and you the viewer with them. The sequence goes on just long enough to bring you into a mild hallucinatory state, and you are now ready for all the holy truths this special has to offer.
Lumpy activates a familiar holographic chess board, but instead of alien chess pieces, we see a projection of the dark lord himself, splendid and triumphant! After some celebratory acrobatics, he escapes his hologram prison and appears full-size at Lumpy’s side, where he commands his hologram minions to dance for the child’s amusement. Then Satan rejoins his dark troupe and they all raise their arms to the heavens. They don’t say it, but the message is clear: “The old Gods are dead! Long live life!”
It is unclear if the cover-all homunculus was created because actor Mark Hamill was unavailable, or if the Lucas Arts team simply wanted to show off their mastery of the arcane. What is clear is that the thing portraying Luke Skywalker is not fully human, and has no real idea what the hell is going on. Still, he tries his best, as we all must.
Fun fact, this scene is actually where we get the phrase “By the buxomness of Harvey Korman.”
Who the hell needs Santa when you’ve got jolly old Art Carney bringing gifts and joy to all the good Wookiee families? To Lumpy, Chewbacca’s precocious son, he gives a word processor of some kind. To Mala, Chewbacca’s wife, he gives a kitchen appliance… in exchange for a kiss of course! And to Itchy, Chewbacca’s elderly Wookiee father, he gives a new pornographic disc for his mind eraser machine. Remember, this was decades before the prevalence of brainwash fetish porn, that’s how prescient this special was.
Yes, the watching of the pornography with Itchy is one of the more curious stations of Life Day. The nature of the content was heavily alluded to by Carney, and a lesser special would have just left the bit there and moved on, but no, we stay with Itchy. We are with him as he lustily and frantically rewinds Diahann Carroll saying “I find you adorable” again and again. The revelation that elderly Wookiees are aroused by human women is unnerving to some, but it’s important to remember there is no kink shaming on Life Day.
Yes, the elderly Wookiee watching human pornography sequence goes on for an uncomfortable amount of time. Diahann Carroll is now escalated to telling Itchy “I am your pleasure,” erasing any plausible hope that Itchy is watching this material for any reason besides sexual gratification. Seems like a real, real weird move for a children’s television special, but that just proves that it isn’t a children’s television special, it’s a bold new religion.
In ancient times, temple maidens would sit in chambers filled with natural gas, producing a hallucinatory state in which they could commune with the Gods and bring their wisdom to us. It is their legacy Carrie Fisher holds inside herself as she stumbles out of a chair coked and pilled up to the gills and says “Itchy, Mala, how aaaaaarrreee you?!” Far from being reckless or unprofessional, Fisher has embarked on a hallucinatory odyssey to the world within, where she will glean great wisdom to share with us all.
Since the only existing records of The Star Wars Holiday Special are home-recorded VHS copies, we get all the commercials, and some of them have found their way into the sacred canon. In this one, we are reminded of the importance of only purchasing ladies’ garments bearing the seal of the Ladies Garment Workers Union, lest we normalize the inferior quality of foreign-made clothing. The song that follows has become one of Life Day’s most iconic hymnals and remained just as relevant as it was when it aired until 1994. The union disbanded in 1995.
In the “Star Wars” film, the empire could fairly be described as space Nazis, but in this special, (again, presumably made for young children,) they are way more Nazi than space. Straight up, they are the S.S. They are menacing, they are sinister, they are wearing Star Wars costumes but acting as if they’re in “Where Eagles Dare.” This station of the Life Day reminds us all that if your actors haven’t seen the source material, give them better notes than just “Space Nazi.”
Hands down the greatest performance of the greatest song by the greatest iteration of this band, and if you disagree you are a blasphemer!
During the raid of their home, Lumpy finds solace in a cartoon. Curiously, the cartoon characters are his dad Chewbacca, Luke Skywalker, and several other of the rebels the empire is currently looking for. So, like, what is this? How does this exist? Is this supposed to be like… did all that happen? It’s confusing, and so is life sometimes, another important lesson.
That’s right, the Star Wars Holiday Special cartoon segment marks the first canonical appearance of Boba Fett! In it, our heroes meet Boba for the first time, and he pretends to be a good guy, but all is not what it seems, just like in life. Life Day.
BOSS pedals are always there when you need them. And you currently need a reverb to hide your lack of digital dexterity. With 12 reverb algorithms, you’ll easily obscure the fact that you can’t press down on all 6 strings at once. Quit spending time practicing and hurting those fingers; start tweaking knobs and posting Instagram reels of you playing 2 notes with a fuckton of reverb.
While BOSS pedals are dependable, they aren’t necessarily the coolest kids on the block. Neither are you and your lack of barre chords. Enter Earthquaker devices- a popular yet boutique-ish pedal company. The smooth plate decay will let your notes sound huge; the opposite of your apparently tiny, Trumpian hands. You must have the smallest hands of anyone who has ever tried to play guitar. But that won’t stop you from impressing your crush by entering the big end-of-year talent show.
When you’re ready to play in front of others, only the highest sonic fidelity will do; enter Universal Audio. The Heavenly Plate’s ringing trails will help calm your nerves as your minuscule fingers fumble around the fretboard while your crush sits in the front row of the talent show. Oh no, you absolutely biffed it on an F-major barre! Turns out not even the highest quality engineer can save that god-awful sound. A baby started crying after the screeching feedback started. Ouch.
Your rival closed out the talent show with an epic set of shredding, singing, and pyro. To top it all off, they used the Strymon Cloudburst which gave their perfectly executed barre chords a heavenly shimmer. After the show your rival hooked up with your crush in a night of multiple orgasms for the both of them; your only option is to go home and masturbate pathetically with your tiny, cursed hands.
Upon waking up the next morning from your evening of friction-filled anger wanking, you realize you are still light years away from decent tone. It’s time to look for something a bit more esoteric- why not try the SONICAKE Levitate pedal? Investigate its dark arts while you curse your bloodline for giving you such inept, petite hand genetics. Curse, curse them.
All the previous pedals were nice enough, but clearly your situation requires something stronger. Enter the Walrus Audio Slöer. Its emphasis on ambience will leave you intoxicated with tone. So intoxicated, in fact, that you start to Google “hand enlargement surgery” and find a doctor in Tijuana who will help you out on the cheap. Flight prices aren’t bad, as long as you don’t mind a layover or two.
The Recovery Moonstruck fits a real spring reverb into an average effect pedal size. This will be useful as you embark on your 2 day, 5 layover journey to Tijuana. Find a solid power outlet in the Dallas Love Field, plug in your pedalboard and pocket amp, and enjoy true analog reverb before making the worst decision of your life.
Welcome to Mexico! I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is that last night you scored a sweet deal on the Meris Effects MercuryX, one of the deepest reverb devices ever made. The bad news is it’s a counterfeit, you’re seconds away from hand enlargement surgery, and this ramshackle “surgery center” ran out of anesthesia and painkillers. Good luck, hoss.
Thankfully, you blacked out during your experimental surgery. Unfortunately, it was only for the last five minutes. That means you endured about three and a half hours of unsterilized, improvised surgery by a mysterious surgeon named Dr. Sven. You were smart enough to leave the Voice Memo app recording the whole process; now you can run your screams through some effects like the EH Oceans 3-Verb for drenched tones on a budget. The sounds of your agony will definitely go viral on TikTok. But one step at a time: let’s get your hands out of these bandages.
Upon removing the bandages, you gaze upon the beautiful Butterball turkeys that are your new hands. These boulders could crush a skull, let alone master barre chords effortlessly. Sure your fingers are currently numb and immobile, but you can still use Siri to order a reverb pedal to wait for you at home. Consider the Catalinbread CBX for iconic ’80s gated reverb sounds.
Flying back home was tougher than you imagined; your numb fingers could barely swipe through Apple Wallet to produce flight tickets. It’s been a few days now, and these digits are barely functional. A sickening feeling takes hold as you hope beyond all hope that you didn’t royally fuck up what little guitar prospects you had in life. The Alabs CETUS Reverb is a full-featured, reasonably priced option for those regretting past decisions.
The day has come; it’s time to try your guitar. It feels awkward and unwieldy in your fucked up Frankenstein hands. Not only do you fail at barre chords, you can’t even muster the “Seven Nation Army” riff anymore. Your playing is fucked. You can’t do shit musically. While running your ol’ trusty axe through the Maneco Labs 4AD produces some nice echoes for your guitar amp’s feedback, you have no interest in becoming a noise musician. Everything is fucked.
It’s hopeless. What were once perfectly fine, somewhat dainty hands are now hideous abominations of Man’s hubris. You could have learned barre chords if you just stuck with it. You could have practiced then run sick lead lines through the Pigtronix Cosmosis reverb featuring morphing technology. Unfortunately, the pedal’s morphing only reminds you of the shortcut of trying to morph your hands into something they were not. Time to sell your guitar on Craigslist.
The news shoved a knife through your heart— your rival won the Powerball while you were in Mexico. And even worse, your rival and crush are pregnant together. The cherry on top is that they are naming the baby after you ironically. To add salt to the wound, a package showed up mere minutes after selling your guitar: it’s the M-VAVE Mini Universe reverb pedal you forgot you purchased from AliExpress. You have nothing to plug it into. Reviews say it sounds quite good, but you don’t care and throw it in the trash.
You’ve ruined your life. You have no lover, you can’t play guitar anymore, and somehow you have the cartel after you. After spending days motionless on the couch binging YouTube videos, you have a realization. You can still make music! You don’t need manual dexterity or skill- you can simply get a bass. In time, you’ll be able to manage fretting one note on those big, oafish strings. Check out the Hologram Electronics Chroma Console pedal. It’s the pastel-colored hipster favorite multi-effect making the rounds with YouTube influencers. The reverb is to die for, let alone the other features like fuzz and modulation. This whole experience taught you a valuable lesson. Music isn’t about art or connecting with other people- music is just another way for capitalism to infect your brain with an incessant need to keep buying shit you don’t need to fill a void that follows you every waking moment of your life.
Mayday Parade has yet to make a bad album wherever you are, and we are not joking in any way, shape, form, or satellite, but sadly this one just sounds complacent in a non-epic way from start to finish, and since good is the enemy of great, it’s hard to be religious when certain people are never incinerated by bolts of lightning. Sadly, the band’s sixth effort “Sunnyland,” and first of two as of now for Rise Records, just doesn’t take our breath away as the band mostly stayed the same throughout, and if we were them, despite “Black Lines” not selling as well as its four predecessors, we would’ve gone deeper into the sonic and songwriting direction there. Even its one-word album title sounds semi-lazy and phoned in in comparison to their other releases.
Mayday Parade’s fourth album, consists of one of their better opening tracks, “Ghosts,” which features Journey’s Brian May-like playing, but sadly the album tapers off as tracks come in and out. Honestly, this album’s biggest handicap is that it truly didn’t have a chance to be better than its self-titled predecessor. Still, its album cover, which kind of looks like a combination of John Denver’s “Labyrinth” and Roald Dahl’s “The Indian in the Cupboard” in the best way, would make a good t-shirt, so Fearless Records, if you’re reading this, and we know that you are, please send us an XL for our Covid ginger beer guts even though you don’t have MP on your roster anymore, you angel demons.
Yes, Mayday Parade has more than one album, and their newest LP “What It Means to Fall Apart” does far from that, and is the first mentioned here to be consistent throughout. Shoutouts are in order for the current lineup of Derek Sanders on lead vocals and sometimes piano, Alex Garcia on lead guitar, Brooks Betts on rhythm guitar, Jeremy Lenzo on bass, and Jake Bundrick on drums and sometimes lead vocals. Here’s to another lucky seven MP albums, one for the rocks, and one for the scary! Closing an album with a song called “I Can’t Do This Anymore” is scary when one wants more from this five-piece, but it kinda could be a form of notice to the end of it all. Think of them please.
Ah, yes, the very polarizing record from Mayday Parade! Departures can sometimes sound like arrivals: Imagine Mayday Parade listened to a lot of the now-canceled Brand New, the forever rad Smashing Pumpkins, a bunch of hipster Coachella acts, and purchased a ton of vintage delay guitar pedals on your rich and neglectful stepfather’s dime, and you have “Black Lines,” BY FAR, the most underrated MP effort and we are not taking any more questions regarding the matter. Also, this album is the last of their Fearless Records, err, records, and the band went out with a bang in every way but sales/streams/fanfare. Let’s be honest, this one may have been just out of reach for you in 2015, but now that you’re eight years older, and have had much more time to let your hollowness go, you need to revisit this one stat.
The band’s lone major label/sophomore release “Anywhere but Here” is a co-writer’s dream, but the band’s then-nightmare, as it was doomed from the start because of general apathy with the lineup. Still, despite the fact that “Anywhere but Here” alienated some, which means one or more, it somehow has a lot of staying power and various songs will always permeate their setlists, unless they are solely playing another album front to back. Produced by David Bendeth of Breaking Benjamin, Paramore, Of Mice & Men, and Joni Mitchell fame, this album sounds HUGE, but didn’t move many units, unintentionally making it a setback for the five-piece, even though it initially debuted at number thirty-one on the Billboard 200. Sadly sales dissipated after week one, and it seemed that the band would never recover, but with the next to be mentioned subsequent effort, it did! The end?
Oh well, oh whale? If this self-titled LP was flip-flopped sequentially order-wise with “Anywhere but Here” and released on Atlantic Records instead of an indie without a huge music video and radio budget, we firmly believe that Mayday Parade would’ve still been on a major label today and their radio hit catalog would’ve also been quite sizable. However, that wasn’t in the cards for this fan-favorite studio effort. Self-titled LPs often go in one way or another: Back-to-basics like what worked before or a major departure that may or may not successfully grow their fan base. This one is more of the former, and a grower that shows up and out, so when you see your friends who abandoned their pop punk roots for seemingly greener pastures, show them this album’s cover and scare ‘em back to Warped Tour forests.
What is truly obvious to us here is Mayday Parade may never be able to top their no “skip it” track debut studio album “A Lesson in Romantics,” and that’s ok, as Stuart Smalley said to you, but we will direct towards them, “They’re good enough, they’re smart enough, and doggone it, people like them!” You’d drink too if you had Liberace for a son, so walk on water or drown, and take this to heart: If you wanted a song written about you, all you had to do was ask, and we’d STILL say no. This album eventually went GOLD, yes, GOLD, which is an insane achievement for an indie or major label, so there is literal proof that more than Jamie was all over it.