I have chosen to love the new record by Billings emo band Rookie Card. Not because it is hard, but because it is easy. Very easy. We Chose To Go To The Moon cuts a clear course for the stars as the band enters the chop of the current wave of emo-core. They are like a barge of brash, buccaneering bards. A motley crew of liberal-arts primed seafarers who have thrown the sextant overboard, electing to navigate by instinct instead.
If you like midwest emo (and a little bit of screamo), then you will find a lot to like here. That doesn't mean that Rookie Card are derivative though. They're not just tossing around the olde American Football for laughs (even if there are an abundance of twinkle chords) or mining a downcast mood for sappy hooks like The Get Up Kids (although, this album has plenty of moods, and hooks, and no shortage of synths). We Chose To Go To The Moon just feels like an album made by a bunch of folks who love emo, but aren't particularly inclined to walk in the shadow of their idols. They've obviously learned a lot from their forbearers, but they're not content with simply shinning from the shadows cast by their influences.
On We Chose To Go To The Moon, Rookie Card sounds like they got off their retail-drone jobs the day before they were set to go on tour, and instead of packing their suitcases, they spend the evening breaking into Mike Kinsella's house and raiding his wardrobe. These pilfered rags are then stitched together into ransacked, rag stock mosaic dream coats- accented by spraypaint, lengths of protruding LED lights, and jewelry from Claire's. I respect their attitude and approach. For one, It's familiar and intrinsically irreverent- both underrated qualities of great emo in my opinion. But further, their songs beg to be heard live. They have an energy that feels like it would fill up a basement or gallery space like a swoopy-haired boy fills out an Atticus T that is one size too small.
Tracks like "Ismay" really show off the loose and intuitive way Rookie Card strings their songs together. In the beginning, we see the group throwing themselves into a slick sledge of blinding twinkle grooves, only for them to part the flow to tease you with a Millennial handclap motif and a clip of a countdown sequence. The second of the song! Different from the one that proceeded it, but no less appropriate and amusing.
There are a lot of left turns on We Chose To Go To The Moon, but somehow the record doesn't feel like it is driving in circles. And although the song structures have plenty of slack in their lines, they also have a clear sense of direction. Take the song "Chicago" for instance, a number that demonstrates the group's clarity of vision by showcasing clean, nimble guitar work that builds, ascends, and finally accedes, permitting the groove to transcend into a ray of twilight synth bars. It is an awesome transition, made all the better by the fact that the song loses none of its momentum as it crosses over into the precious whirl of an Italian-disco-esque interlude.
If you couldn't guess from the title of the album, Rookie Card has a curious affinity for pop-cultural oddities. You may ask, "what emo band doesn't?" But theirs are obscurer than most. By way of example the song "Dog Named Beau" is built around a sound clip of Jimmy Stewart reading a mawkish poem over a roil of cold, shaving guitars. The experience of this number is both ridiculous and sweetly sentimental. The mix of feelings it conjures are enjoyable enough for their contradictions alone, but the song also led me to pulling up a video of Mr. Stewart on the verge of tears while talking about his dog on Johnny Carson's show in 1981... and my life is now strangely enriched because of it.
It's easy to remix and ridicule the past for a quick laugh. However, the challenge is in making people feel something genuine after the chuckles have died down. It's not just these unconventional and concerted choices (like ending the album with an acid house mashup called "Jinx") that leave me wanting to hurdle the moon while listening to this album, but the parts that you'd expect on an emo record as well.
Songs like "Wonderment" and "Celadon" are amongst the more orthodox rockers on the album, brimming with punk verve and angling to make an impact- slamming around like they're trying to do home repairs while blindfolded, crowbar in hand while showers of drywall rain down around them in ragged clumps like carcinogenic snow. They serve as loving acts of creative imposition and the triumph of intuition.
Rookie Card are a band who are not afraid to let their feet leave the ground while they are reaching for the limits of their art and ability. As ever, it is good to meet the acquaintance of a group of people who are not afraid of heights.
