Joyce Manor - I know Where Mark Chen Lives
by Kay Bien
When you can't explain the damage done to your brain, but it's clear that it's severe and it's here to stay.
My brain struggles to comprehend the passage of time as it relates to my personal history. Before starting to medically transition, I had little direct access to memories before the year 2000. That’s not to say that I had no memory of my childhood or teenage years, but long-term depression, anxiety, and what can only be described as early extreme misadventure left me with a set of coping mechanisms that limited my reference material. Over the last five years, it’s all come flooding back, and I have been forced to process and catalog the minor indignities of my early life. Trying to place those memories in a chronological order has become my version of counting sheep. Lately, in between labeling teenage hangovers, missed opportunities, and world-ending faux pas, I try to comprehend how we are on the seventh Joyce Manor album.
I was in my mid-20s when Joyce Manor came onto the scene with their juggernaut of a self-titled record (S/T). I loved the single “Constant Headache,” but the record just did not stick. It did for the scene, though, and the kids loved them. I was confused about their popularity.
I am struggling with this now. The Brett Gurewitz-produced I Used to Go to This Bar came out on January 30th, and it has not left my turntable. I have revisited every record, all great in their own way. I blame Jeff Rosenstock’s post BTMI output for making me a late-in-life convert to the emo revival. I have been so obsessed with this record that Replacement Hipster has gone dark for a month (or two) because I had an existential crisis about choosing just one song to post. This is silly for a number of reasons, but fairly common for the current iteration of my brain chemistry. Less impulse-driven and more paralyzed by indecision. This is no longer an MP3 Blog where a single audio file is being delivered to RSS feeds. None of that matters; I could link to every song if I felt the need to. And I want to. Every song could be a single.
“I Know Where Mark Chen Lives” is a monster of an album opener. Only thirty seconds from that opening riff, and you get a chorus that is worthy of screaming at the top of your lungs.
Train coming down the track
And it almost gave me a heart attack
Freight train coming down the track
And it almost gave me a heart attack
It’s an energetic and brief opener to what has been for me a perfect album. No song sounds exactly like the last one, a perfect mix of nostalgia and exploration that bounces around 9 tracks, clocking in at only 19 minutes. This album gave me the key to unlock their past catalog, and I have been fully immersed ever since. In the process, I have reconnected with the memories of listening to those records for the first time and my attempts to get excited about the band. It is eerie how I can recall the train rides and awkward treadmill experiences, and my initial thoughts. When CODY came out I remeber asking myself, 'Why did they write a song about liking Kanye West?' Oh shit, they didn’t. Their lyrics can be vague, but they provide just enough data for you to construct a story and flesh out the universe. Back to this record, I get so excited for the first verse of “Well, Whatever it Was,” it’s embarrassing.
Had the worst day ever so far
Got run over by my dream car
Spent forever in the ER
Slowly going insane
Lost my job at Little Caesars
Drinking whiskey 'cause my teeth hurt
My tuxedo was a t-shirt
But, you know what they say
As good as I can now claim the back catalog is, I recommend listening to this new one cover-to-cover first. I hope it unlocks the band for you the way it did me.
All My Friends Are So Depressed
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