Getting older is a little weird when you see a new generation reconstruct your formative experiences via remix culture. When I watched I Saw The TV Glow a few weeks ago, I felt genuinely alienated by the thought ‘Is this how our parents felt when Wolfmother and Jet came around?’ Sure, each generation has the right to have ‘their’ variant of an aesthetic, but what distinguishes Placebo from, say, The Darkness is that they adapted ideas and politics of a specific moment (here: glam rock) onto modern times. The Darkness, meanwhile, just did cosplay of something that’s been re-established.
The middle ground is remix culture, where different elements are clashed together like action figures – hey, what if Buffy was also Charmed and they battled the moon from Smashing Pumpkins’ “Tonight Tonight” video (itself a reconfiguration of Méliès “Le Voyage dans la Lune” from 1902), and we make it look like a Gregg Araki film and Phoebe Bridgers is also there!? Things get messy quickly, precisely because the societal and cultural context for these moments seem to be adapted out of a nostalgic perspective, rather than an organic renaissance. Which makes confronting the recent past so hard when art aims to recapture its magic.
If you haven’t heard of julie before, you’re probably old. The Los Angeles based three-piece have been a constant fixture of Zoomer social media culture, hitting big on YouTube, TikTok, Instagram and Spotify Playlists throughout the lockdown years. If you still rely on old school terminology, you could say that there’s been a considerable hype surrounding them ever since the release of their first single, “Flutter” in 2020. They’re young, they’re really good looking and they tap into a resurgence of 90s aesthetics that Zoomers go absolutely crazy for.
Whereas bands like Fleshwater, Soul Blind and Narrow Head go for a heavy sound that unites grunge and nu-,etal (with Deftones being a key influence), julie aim for a strange combination of early Sonic Youth, Swervedriver and My Bloody Valentine. On Pushing Daisies, their second EP, they perfected this sound. Just listen to “Lochness” and tell me it wouldn’t fit seamlessly on Daydream Nation. If you feel like that’s ‘too soon’, take note: Daydream Nation is further removed from today (35 years) than Lynrd Skynrd were when Kings of Leon released their debut (30 years).
So back to julie: following their incredible success online and some pretty well-attended US-tours, the trio have now released their much anticipated major label debut, my anti-aircraft friend on Atlantic records. And I’m surprised to say that it sounds, looks and ‘feels’ much smaller than Pushing Daisies.
With a rough, immediate, ‘no bullshit’ live-band-sound and edging closer to grunge than shoegaze, they fully embrace a slacker rock side to their project that wasn’t quite as noticeable with their dynamic, punchy early work. Think My Bloody Valentine’s “Cupid Come”, Nirvana’s “Pennyroyal Tea” or the slower tracks off Dirty. Or just go for an obscure classic to pinpoint the comparison: Love Tara by Eric’s Trip. It’s a curious choice, which makes their debut album almost sound more like a self recording or demo. There’s a lot of silence and space between the instruments here, where previous tracks often aimed for lush alt rock maximalism. It’s more Sunny Day Real Estate than Smashing Pumpkins.
There’s a tug of war between slower tracks – such as “knob” and “thread, stitch”, and the more dynamic offerings, such as the ironically titled “piano instrumental” or single “clairbourne practice”. This push and pull leads to tense songs that occasionally remind of Unwound in their textural focus – “feminine adornments” and “i’ll cook my own meals” are good examples of this.
The riffing is mostly great and memorable, with a hypnotic quality that fans of alternative rock will recognise. Aforementioned “piano instrumental” sports this interesting dynamic, where the guitars slowly build up and the structures suddenly disassembly into anti-climaxes in genuinely clever ways. Lead single “clairbourne practice” flirts with “Feed Me With Your Kiss” all sensual dual vocals from string players Keyan Zand and Alex Brady, galloping rhythms and teenage absurdism: “What a way to make your day / Well, I don’t know, it just makes me feel like / The things you do and all you say / I’ll cut my hair another way”. “very little effort” divides the parts of Zand and Brady, diving into the harsh observation of toxic domestic life that Washing Machine portrayed. “tenebrist” has a groovy, addictive leisure to it that reminds of Deftones and Eric’s Trip. The song’s odd changes of tempo make it very refreshing, giving it a genuinely interesting narrative structure.
It feels purposeful that the two most immediately memorable tracks open and close the record: “catalogue” is violent and sexy in equal degrees, recalling Sonic Youth’s work on Goo. It’s immediate dopamine, it’s sassy, it’s a total hit! And it’s a joy how absolutely, unapologetically adolescent the lyrics are: “I don’t feel sexy / I don’t feel amused / But I will / Try to undress you”. Fantastic!!
“stuck in a car” is its opposite, a threatening and sensual ballad, it uses feedback to accentuate a weird love story that’s accentuated by addiction and co-dependency. Of course it explodes into a loud grunge anthem by the finale, when the lyrics suddenly turn a dark twist. It’s an interesting song because it seems to be told from the perspective of a girl that is concerned about the consumption of a friend (allusions to booze and heroin mount), but then it slowly morphs into what could be the story of a female stalker, who repeats “I want to follow you home”. It’s eerie and fits into the mold of Twin Peaks‘ understanding of the complex interpersonal relationships teenagers indulge.
With all of these qualities on full display, it’s odd that the record never seems to really take off, like Pushing Daisies did. With two slower tracks right in the middle – “knob” and “thread, stitch” – it falls prey to giving the overall perception of a slow-moving album. The dynamic balance isn’t quite even. The raw production choice is authentic and gives the album a noticeable edge, but it also buries some of the great ideas on display within a confining space. The tiny nuances and clever production trickery of the earlier material gave the impression of a fully formed aesthetic thesis, which the album abandons in favour of personality.
Which returns to the initial discussion on nostalgia. my anti-aircraft friend aims, more so than julie’s prior work, to capture a moment of past history – that short span from 89 to ’93 when Alternative was actually THE alternative to mainstream music: records captured in tiny spaces by uncompromising individualists, cryptic and forlorn, emotionally bare and edgy. Yet the band had already grazed past that, reflecting a much wider sonic palette and urgent dynamic than the slacker vibe present here. It’s, in a way, a major label debut fashioned to seem more independent.
Yet to be honest, I am quite enamoured with this album. While the reference points are clear (Eric’s Trip, Sonic Youth, early MBV, Nirvana), the band never seem stale, malicious or plagiarist in their reconfiguration of the past. They don’t just drag nostalgic recollections into a frame where they provoke pavlovian reaction, instead they provide a counter-position to Zoomer lifestyle. These songs never mention the experiences of social isolation that come with modern media tools like TikTok – instead, they use the anxiety, insecurity and uncertainty of the modern day to observe splintered dynamics. In a way, it almost serenades the utopia associated with life online, when it resignedly acknowledges that alcohol, violence, heroin and romantic projection still crushes youth – maybe more so than it used to back when shared cultural experiences and codes allowed for immediate connections.
This isn’t just an attempt to remake Love Tara or Raise or Dirty or Fake Train, but julie’s attempt to find their own identity in the kaleidoscopic prism of their influences. All great alternative bands came from relatively modest beginnings, and my anti-aircraft friend feels like the promise that this trio can now go and do anything they want to.
