Rating: 8.5/10
As recently as a few weeks ago, I stated on Twitter that one of my controversial musical opinions was my lack of feeling toward American Aquarium. As I noted then, it was never about the writing–that’s always been pretty excellent, and “Losing Side of Twenty-Five” is an absolutely brilliant song that I’ve loved since the first time I heard it. But after seeing them live twice, I was not convinced of them as a band, and I felt like BJ Barham, the lead singer, tended to only sing in one gear: over the top. But we must approach music with an open mind as I said just yesterday, so I took my own advice and went into the new American Aquarium release setting aside all preconceived notions.
That’s partly because so much had changed for American Aquarium prior to this album. The title is certainly appropriate. Every single member of American aquarium had left, leaving Barham to start from scratch. I knew it had taken a lot of blood, sweat, and tears to make this record, and more than that, I wanted to hear the new version of the band. After several listens with this thing, I have to say that though I am sorry Barham had to endure all this hardship, the result is a much better version of American Aquarium. It results in an album borne of struggle and resilience, and one that is a truly enjoyable listen.
The writing was always the band’s greatest strength, and this album is no exception. Barham’s songs have a way of feeling at once personal and autobiographical, and also quite relatable. He writes with clever turns of phrase, but never with the depth of some songwriters that sometimes forsakes the ability to connect with the audience. It all feels very real. There’s a track here called “One day at a Time” wherein he speaks of getting sober and trying to make up for the past and the hurt he’s caused everyone, and every word feels like it came straight from his soul. You are pretty much entitled to be impressed by a line like “you see, the man left holding the pen controls how every story ends, and truth becomes a martyr for the sake of the song.” “I Gave up the drinking (Before She Gave up on Me)” is essentially this same song, only told in a lighter fashion. “crooked+Straight,” one of the harder, rock-leaning tracks, is one time where the intensity of Barham’s vocal delivery really works to add to this excellently written autobiographical story. I could go on about the writing for almost every song here, so I’ll just say the songwriting throughout much of this record is just outstanding.
But that’s been the case for American aquarium the entire time. Where this album elevates itself above everything else they’ve ever recorded is in the way they’ve found their sound. They sound like a band more than they ever did before, and more than that, the tracks all seem to have the right production and instrumentation. There are some surprisingly and refreshingly country tunes here, like “Work Conquers All,” a nice ode to Oklahoma featuring some lovely fiddle. As an Oklahoman, I have to say I was excited to hear the little town of Durant referenced, as opposed to something like Oklahoma City or Tulsa which are often the only two cities people from other places can name. There’s accordion all over “Shadows of You,” and Jamie Lin Wilson’s harmony, as it usually does, really adds to this wistful heartbreak song. There are the standard rock songs as well, but these and other country selections provide more flavor and variety to the album. BJ Barham also seems to have found some different gears, doing a better job of holding back on softer songs so that when he belts the harder stuff, it can be more easily appreciated as a sign of emotion. The sound of American Aquarium has just improved in so many ways, and it’s interesting and unfortunate that it all had to come crashing down in order for that to happen.
The song that initially sparked my recent Twitter comments, and the unapologetic album opener, is “The world is on Fire.” the political nature of this may make it polarizing for some listeners, and I do question the idea of making this the opener when the rest of the record, even the political commentary, is more understanding. None of it backs down from its stance, but a track like “Tough Folks” captures the mood of this album better, with the line “Last November I saw firsthand what desperation makes good people do.” There’s an empathy with people who hold different political viewpoints, as well as enough self-awareness of Barham’s own failings, to make songs like this one more likely to connect with listeners than “The world is on Fire.” It’s also really similar to “White Man’s World” from Jason Isbell in that both songs reference their daughters and the anxiety about the world the girls will inherit, but that fosters comparisons to Isbell’s song, which did a better job of being self-aware rather than preachy.
Other than this song, though, I’m really enjoying this record. Much of the songwriting is stellar, and each track gets the instrumentation and production exactly right. Perhaps most refreshing is that out of the hardship and upheaval this band went through, American Aquarium became worlds better. This album is the best of American Aquarium’s career, and it’s all the more special that it’s a product of desperation and turmoil and incredible determination. I hate that BJ Barham went through hell to get here, but it’s often the case that going through hell produces the best and most enduring art. That’s certainly the case here, and indeed, this is one of the strongest albums of 2018 so far.