DINOSAUR PILE-UP’S ‘I’VE FELT BETTER’ IS TUNES FOR BAD TIMES
Album artwork courtesy of Matador Records.
After a perilous few years, Dinosaur Pile-Up is back on the scene with their new album, I've Felt Better. Following COVID, frontman Matt Bigland's hospitalization, and the general chaotic state of the world, this album offers a vulnerable yet relatable soundtrack to get you through the day.
Opening with "'Bout To Lose It," DPU hits us exactly where it hurts. The feeling of thinking things are finally coming together, only to immediately fall apart before your eyes. The desire to completely crash out as you're torn between rage and hopelessness. However, the sensation is delivered in this upbeat classic alternative package.
Immediately after we hit the title track "I've Felt Better" and get a small glimpse into the situation surrounding this album's creation. A slight decline in tempo, the lyrics lament the disaster of society and Matt's medical issues. It's a slightly nihilistic yet somehow hopeful acknowledgement of a widespread sentiment.
Things haven't been all doom and gloom, though, and that comes through in "Punk Kiss," a nostalgic nod to those romances we've all had at the rock show. It's sunny surfing riffs that hearken back to those summers under the sun, thrashing in the crowd, and imagining a future with someone whose battle jacket caught your eye.
"Sick Of Being Down" is perfect for those days when you're fed up with yourself and everything else. Coupled with an excellent, slightly trippy guitar solo, the repetitive lyrics are like the internal spiral of loathing. The transitions from the punchy chorus to the melodic verses feel like a roller coaster, which is perfect for a song about the highs and lows of your mental state.
The most roll the windows down song is "My Way," inspired by 90s hip-hop; this is an anthem to staying true to yourself. In an era that seems to be encouraging homogeneity and following trend cycles, this is the track everyone needs to hear. A spit in the face of traditionalism and labels. The guitar is sultry and classic, the beat is hot, the vocals edge on screaming, a perfect two-step party anthem.
By far my favorite track on this album is "Big Dogs." Giving full-on classic rock vibes, this song just goes so hard. It's funny in the near nonsensical storytelling, an obvious mockery of celebrity culture. The instrumentals are heavy. Still, I think that at some point, we have all wanted to be the Big Dog in life. Who doesn’t want to be cool enough for freebies, adoring fans, and affection?
Switching to the underlying love story of the album "Big You And Me" is a loud, bursting show of adoration. A song about just basking in the awe of a beautiful relationship. It's a little simple, but a sweet break from the main struggle of the album. The sound of it is almost like a lullaby turned up to 11.
Immediately after, we get an anti-love song, “Love’s The Worst," which is also the slowest track on the album. An angry pop-punk stadium anthem, the track is written about a cheating ex, fully capturing the feelings of betrayal and hate that come from getting your heart broken into pieces. The way it keeps to the similar lullaby tone of "Big You and Me" but has such a complete 180 in content is poetic.
"Quasimodo Melonheart" is Bigland casting himself in an unfavorable light, but hopelessly in love with his princess. Karen Dió of Brazilian punk’s Violet Soda had become Bigland's light in the dark during his hospitalization and struggle, and she even appears as a guest vocalist on the track—a sickeningly sweet but somehow deeply self-deprecating tune of being love-struck.
Continuing the sweetness, we have "Sunflower," possibly my second favorite song on the album. The song is slightly softer, sunny in its use of acoustics, and delightfully upbeat. The acknowledgement that you can't get a little good without the bad, "You know the sunflowers couldn’t grow tall without the rain," is a balance in life. The nostalgic energy surrounding everything makes me think of all the growing pains involved in becoming a better person and getting older.
"Unfamiliar" has big Blur energy but still puts a modern, genre-switching spin on it. From the pop of gum and insecure "Umm" at the beginning, to random little sounds throughout. The largely negative, rambling, internal monologue style of the lyrics becomes an earworm. The quirky whistling only adds to the way this song feels like the thoughts you have during a stressed-out stroll. There's also a fun and funky little section that comes up in the middle that shifts things from feeling trapped to feeling a little freer.
"I Don’t Love Nothing And Nothing Loves Me" is the closing ballad to the album. It's a really sweet-sounding song, slower than a lot of the other songs, but it still comes through with the iconic, huge blasting sounds and dramatic chorus. I think it's kind of a sad end to an album that felt so hopeful, but at the same time, it's cathartic.
This whole album is a roller-coaster of emotions, which kind of makes sense with the roller-coaster of experiences it's based on. I think it's a fantastic album to end the summer on, as it has the combination of hopeful excitement, fleeting love, and the encroaching dark edge that seems to linger across everything.
Despite having such an upbeat tempo, most of the songs on this album are angry and full of self-loathing. It's personal and raw, but still relatable to anyone who has ever felt jaded and like everything is falling apart—which may be the most relatable feeling going around right now. It's upbeat without feeling vapid, and sad without being a bummer. Dinosaur Pile-Up's ability to walk both those tightropes is impressive. It's obvious this is an album the band made from the heart and without any concern for anyone else, and that's what makes it such a great return.