So here’s the scoop with this review. In case you couldn’t have guessed my schedule, like yours, is loaded with bullshit: Working, commuting, writing, editing, organizing, being a human and so on. So when the fine lads at Wharf Cat Records reached out to the Hassle regarding new Urochomes music, I passed; ‘Tight record, too busy, send it to the writers’ I said.
Then, Trip Warner of Wharf Cat personally requested my words for the world premiere and well, how could I say no? So at their behest, I write this album review, enjoy Trip!
First you might be wondering what Urochromes means. The meaning is kind of a gross let down if you ask me. According to wikipedia ‘Urochrome is the chemical primarily responsible for the yellow color of urine.’
While we are defining shit, may as well define trope while we’re at it. A trope, according to Merriam-Webster, is ‘a word or expression used in a metaphorical sense’. So a ‘trope house’ would then be the penultimate of (American) domesticity, a rather common thing if you ask me. Yet we’re almost, almost post-modern now, so in this view, a trope house is a constant redundancy, a constant testament of its own efficacy, where every word or thing takes on more meaning than the thing itself.
Okay. So we’ve defined shit. I hope that makes you feel as good as it does me.
However, I’ve got one more word to define, and that is music. What the fuck is it anyways?
Fucking bullshit if you ask me Merriam. Unity?! Continuity?! Have they listened to Urochromes? What is music then? What is music in the view of Urochromes? Is the word even applicable anymore?
Perhaps Urochromes are echoing the same sentiment musicians have been echoing for decades, the end of music into an entire new form of expression, one integrational and void of the need for definition, yet ironically not void of the need for critics.
To posture my own position in a utilitarian way, what even is music writing or writing in any sense? The only thing maintaining the reality of this situation is your reading this, otherwise my unabashed biased perspectivisms of all economy and industry and social strivances under our bleak neo-liberal order are laughably and literally figments of your or my imagination.
Though what are the purpose of these words, are they even words or are they just an image, water in a glass half full or half empty? ‘Here’s your review Jackie and Trip, hope they love us out west.’ Sure the utilitarian purpose of these ‘words’ could serve as descriptors of the music, but why? Describing music with words is absurd and above all, an expecting let down of boredom that one must grapple with within labyrinthine conceptions and experiences with absurdity.
Ahhh, there it is, absurdity. It’s just so refreshing right now because the absurd to the personal is harmonious to the herd. (If somehow you are wiped clean of culture and have no delight in other people’s vices and flaws, that’s amazing we should go on a date sometime.)
This brings me to my point quite well. When Jackieboy gets up there and ‘sings(?)’ ‘Hair so Big’ the intention is the release of emotion that gives pleasure and release to the listener through the sharing of a familiar feeling, heartbreak – (The trope of all tropes!), one that gets even socialist non-breeders, bringing the word ‘reification’ to our lips faster than any apostle of Zizek could ever wet dream.
But why? In these momentary glimpses of hope we can gather an aggregated sense of Urochrome’s purpose (which is not just making pee yellow). Whether the band would want to admit it or not, the music gives pleasure to the listener, whether that pleasure may be masochism, sadism, entertainment, pure social and aesthetic value, whatever it is; the music in its dynamism and idiosynicronicity is validating, rewarding, and gets you off on your milieux by hating or having the image of envy of another milieux.
I throw up my hands, how can we overcome negative emotions by giving into them? Perhaps let us look at Freud’s definition of pleasure. ‘It is a release of tension between something buried and troubling in the conscious mind and when their is a spark between the two, that is pleasure.’
Alright Merriam, what you got?
Goddamn, whose worse at defining shit, Freud, Merriam, Urochromes or myself? Well Freud wanted to fuck their mom and daughter, Merriam has easily proven their inadequacy, personally speaking I’m fucking delusional and the band has been on record stating that during the process of making this record they have ‘participated in NASA sleep deprivation studies’ so uhh … I’ll let you decide who takes home the defining bee trophy at this years Webbies, but in case you’re wondering, here’s my list.
3. Probably you unless you already emailed to go out on a date
5. Literally any thinking brain above a bottom feeder save hippies
6. Merriam-Webster online dictionary
(P.S. buy the fucking record ya spotify-using schmucks!)
Chris Hues is a human & writer from Boston, Ma & music editor of bostonhassle.com. //// They can be reached at [email protected] or @crsjh_ via instagram & twitter.