2024 has been a whirlwind for Denver’s one and only Stadium Emo band, but on this new single for their very own label, Broken Record sound positively unrattled by the rush.
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Stream: “Ringer” – Broken Record
When I was young, emo was a scene that every self-respecting music nerd was supposed to outgrow.
Heck, the best-selling bands at Hot Topic went well out of their way to disparage the brand. In an infamous 2007 interview with the University of Maine’s student newspaper, patron saint of the swoop Gerard Way called the entire genre “f*ing garbage.”
It’s now enjoying yet another revival, but emo doesn’t hit me in the feels quite as hard anymore. A supportive long-term relationship and some financial stability has made my thirties much easier to enjoy. But Broken Record hit a nerve — or lack thereof — that I feel more and more as an adult.
“So overrun, unoriginal,” Lauren Beecher opens up on their new single. “I’m overwhelmed with boredom, I know.” She sings from the deepest blues of her lower register, though the melody isn’t all that’s bringing her down.
Tired, lost your meaning
Watered down
without a sense of feeling
Indeed, Broken Record have gone through the ringer since releasing one of my favorite songs from last year. Their old label nearly went up in smoke (literally), but these Ovlov-loving buds are a resourceful bunch. “Ringer” comes courtesy of a split with Power Goth Recordings, which Beecher runs alongside bassist Corey Fruin and writer friend Jay Papandreas, whose newsletter is how I discovered this band in the first place.
It’s also their first single with label mate Larson Ross on guitar. Broken Record were already less twinkly than emo’s more experimental fifth wave. After all, this band doesn’t hail from the Midwest but Denver by way of Connecticut and California, though they sound closer to the grungy sonic boom of the genre’s reluctant Pacific Northwest forebearer Sunny Day Real Estate. Even the “clean” guitars on “Ringer” are muffled by a pleasantly foggy Bass VI tone. Ross’ band Flesh Tape, uhh, fleshes out the B-side of this 7″ with a lush and grimy psychedelic ode to a Swedish-American labor activist and he brings the same sprawling fuzz to “Ringer.” His heavily distorted leads are free to color way outside the lines, spilling and swirling beneath the verses like rust from a leaky drain pipe.
My teenage angst has disappeared along with my acne and Brand New T-shirt,
but like everyone else on the planet, I do wonder whether I’m happy or just comfortable now that my life has settled into a routine. It’s during these times of existential trouble that emo still comforts me. When nothing feels good, hearing someone embrace the tangled mess of their emotions can set you free.
Broken Record cut to that feeling. This band doesn’t call themselves Stadium Emo™ for nothing. In terms of nuts and bolts, “Ringer” is 90% chorus. It’s a doozy, too, ripping and roaring with crunchy power chords that could spark an Avalanche power play.
“Time won’t slow down,” Beecher shouts above the fray. “Try something new, don’t let them hold you back.” She’s not giving in but giving herself over to the rush.
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Stream: “Ringer” – Broken Record
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