Due to an internal rule for this blog (that I'm not going to explain*), I have to cover this release now or never. This is far from a gun-to-the-head type of situation- Orlando's Wet Nurses were a real treat back when they were still credentialed and active members of the Florida pop-punk scene, and before they fall into total obscurity, I'm going to give them at least one (possibly final) and well deserved shout out. Wet Nurse play a crisp and hooky style of garage-slab homesteading punk in the vein of The Ergs, Toys That Kill, and Sacramento's Groovie Ghoulies (probably the best direct comparison of the three). The three-piece released a series of spunky and skrappy demos and other lesser releases before hitting the ground running on an adrenaline spike of indigent fury on their first LP, 2012's
Daily Whatever.
Released three years later, So It Goes is Wet Nurses' second album and their first with Recess Records, and flushes a bit of the piss and vinegar of prior releases from their system and replaces it with an IV of caramel-enriched, sweetness and sentimentality. They've still got a sassy sort of bite to them on this release, but they're also much more relaxed sounding, with the primary source of their everpresent psychic-ulcerations resulting from the prickling pain of separation from loved ones and disturbances to hard-won domestic bliss rather than some allusion to a generalized anxiety disorder level anti-social orientation.
So It Goes still has plenty of terse, crunchy guitars paired with humorous lyrics about failure and social iniquity to provide a suitable level of downer vibes to soundtrack an otherwise idyllic picnic lunch of PBR tall-boys and hand-rolled cigarettes, if that's what you're in the market for. This is music to help you feel better about all of life’s disappointments, from the minor to the utterly catastrophic, while celebrating all the seemingly insignificant triumphs earned along the way. What else is pop-punk good for, really? Check out the punchy and rollicking "Got You," the slamming sock-hop of "Girl Problem," the pensive riffage and love-sick balladry of "Belly Hurts," the cut-the-crap attitude, Mean Jeans-esc pogoing vocal delivery on "Rat Race," and lastly, the reflective tone and driving, spurred hooks of “The Spin," to name just a few highlights. If you haven't been admitted into the ward of this Orland band's fan club yet, then I hope this review has at least whet your appetite and nursed your curiosity for what they have to offer.
HhheeeAHHHHey! Come out and play (Recess Records)
* What are you looking down here for, I already said I wasn't going to explain further.
