The Everyday Losers – Mono No Aware

The Everyday Losers - Mono No Aware


The 90s were spectacular for a great many things, but what we here at Bucketlist Music Reviews most revere about the colourful decade is easily the darkest shade of ’em all: grunge, and its somehow more radio friendly counterpart, post-grunge. History lessons and whimsicalities aside, here we are in 2019 and some acts are still giving a nod to the gloom of old, thus bringing us to The Everyday Losers out of Washington, IN with their brand of “hard rock” and their latest release, The Everyday Losers – Mono No Aware.

This is an act that seemingly sticks to the familiar as far as rock as roll goes. Keeping that air of simplicity going, describing these guys can be boiled down to a melting pot of Nirvana and Puddle of Mudd with a little southern hospitality thrown in the fuck of it, which is another way to say basic, familiar, and by no means breaking any boundaries in the realm of undiscovered artistic territory. There’s a little bit of noodly guitar work here, some angsty vocals there, and a ton of 4/4 compositions so everybody can stay on the page. This is the kind of music that would go over spectacularly in a teenage frat house biopic, meaning that this type of art has its place in the world.

The production quality on Mono No Aware is absolutely nothing to cry about in either direction. Every section is kept crisp but not fooling anybody in terms of the fact that these cats are still keeping it on their end of the fence. Nothing at any point screams “FIX ME FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING GOD,” but nothing also screams “Sign me this second!”

The exact same thing can be said for the compositional efforts. This is a band that seems to run a tight ship. They produce songs that are uniquely theirs, yet have a majorly familiar, relatable, but wholly unimpressive sound. The standard post-grunge, hard-rock formula of heavy to chunky to fast to ballad and back is implied throughout the track listing. “The Calm and Collective” tries to capture that catchy play-me-on-the-radio vibe, whereas “Burn Away” applies that high school dance pressure.

All of this just makes me sound like a broken record as I repeatedly exclaim the point that they’re good, but not enough to get my dick hard. Is it because the sound is too familiar without truly scratching that real itch? Is it the lingering overly commercial aura that’s still trying to be edgy? Is it the fact that I’m truly just a cunt? Whatever the fuck it is, this is an act that could either stay where they’re at and pander to the demographic that obviously digs the fuck out of this kind of music, or shoot for more. Whatever they do, it’ll still be an attestation to the need of artists to do their fucking do, man.

Written by Jason Greenberg
*edited by Kate Erickson

About Jason Greenberg 121 Articles
On the first day, the Lord said "Let there be Bucketlist," and all of human kind then became aware of the incredulity or abysmally flaccid result on their attempt at Art. On the second day, the Lord said "Jason, go review that show you're going to on Friday," and begrudgingly, a review was made. What the world was for Jason Greenberg before that point is either completely unimportant or mildly pornographic, but the world of today after many years of serving his Queen has brought him opportunity, hardship, and a whole lot of Bucketlist patches on indiscriminate pieces of clothing. You may see him lugging your band's equipment and yelling at you aimlessly about the useless construct of time. You may see him expelling a noise not fully understood by humankind at the end of a microphone. You may even see him swimming in an ocean of poutine, but you will always see him as his true self, a sentient and obnoxious Bucketlist Music Reviews Billboard.

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