JOUDY'S NEW ALBUM ‘PERMANENT MAINTENANCE’ EMBRACES CONSTANT CHANGE
If you've been sleeping on New York based experimental rock band Joudy (pronounced howdy), then you've been missing out on one of the many gems in the Trash Casual lineup. Originally from San Cristobal, Venezuela, Joudy is taking the grunge revival by storm. After a wildly successful series of shows at SXSW, a benefit show for victims of the earthquakes in Venezuela, and celebrating fellow Venezuelan band Zeta's 10 year anniversary, Joudy has turned up the hype by dropping their new album Permanent Maintenance. True fans of the band have been waiting since their secret show at Sleepwalk back in January, where they played the entire album. That performance was a real collective celebration as the event opened with label mates Pillowbiter, along with guest appearances from Zach James of Dead Tooth, Maggie Denning of Tetchy, and Samantha Dagnino of Sorry Not Sorry.
Permanent Maintenance toes the line between an unplugged album and something made intentionally messy. Each track is infused with the marks of human creation: the jarring initial screech of a guitar, the snap of a soda can, the sudden buzz of an amp being disconnected. All these sounds combine with the masterful instrumentation of Hulrich Navas' drums, Carlos Rey on bass, and Diego's wild guitar and accented vocals, all to bring the live experience to your earbuds.
"Hammer" is the opening track to the album, and it absolutely nails the dark gritty mood of a film noir. It's heavily carried by a bassline that delivers a grounded energy for the guitar to play off, while the lyrics take on a chastising tone, digging deep into the shame of chasing success in all the wrong ways. It really hits you that the most poignant parts of the song are accompanied by the word "shame" as though that shame is the part of a memory that sticks out most. Bookended by these drawn out raw sound segments, it creates a loop of endless experience.
The guitar and drums move more to the forefront in "Queen" as things begin to lighten up a bit. Going from life in black and white to dim club lighting, the lyrics tempt you to linger, a shifting of blame and a cry for help as Diego begs you to stay with him. The song pulls out the raw feelings of being out of place and lost in a constant haze. The guitar and bass have a playful back and forth throughout the song where they take turns in the spotlight between choruses, but hit a more fevered rhythm when they collide.
Joudy puts their foot on the gas with "Nail," moving on to a quick shuffling pace. It feels like the New York experience in a song. It never slows as it tells you to "please help yourself, you gotta carry on" with passive suggestions to "just be yourself" while offering no help.
This is the first time we hear the band add in backing vocals, and they feel like the voice in your head pushing you forward. It's a cycle, a game you've played before with the same outcome. The undercurrent of tired frustration grows with every repetition. There's a more wild feeling to the way the drums hit a rapid tripping tempo. The guitar jumps in with these sections where it seems to finally break free with winding and climbing riffs, but they always get cut a little short and return to the original rhythm. Once the final chord fades out, it almost feels like it's had enough and moved on.
We return to the slower sound in "Three Dollar Bill." There is something timeless about a song where you see the toxicity in a relationship but still can't seem to get out. Similar to "Should I Stay Or Should I Go" by The Clash or "Clean Cut Heals" by The Used, it feels like an experience anyone can relate to. Drowning in ice cold regret, it's clear to see this relationship is dying out. The hypnotic drone of the bass and the steady one-two of the drums soothe the sharp sensation of the guitar creeping along before it hits an almost romantic sway. Even the use of cymbals delivers on that frigid energy with how crisp the sound rings out. The song sucks you in like a tar pit, and suddenly you're too deep in it to ever return to the surface.
The dream continues in "Whiskas," a track filled with unbridled yearning - promises to be anything for your attention, to wait forever, to be your fool. The guitar manages to create the feeling of sand slowly trickling through an hourglass, while the bass is a low murmur that carries you along the dreamy tune. There's an echo to the vocals that adds to how ephemeral the whole song feels, especially the harmonies near the end that act like sorrowful muses begging for just a moment of your time. "Whiskas" is the kind of song sung in the lonely hours at the bar, as you stare deeply into your glass for answers that will never come.
"(I Love You) Dummy" is the standout track to me because it sounds like a funeral march. In a macabre twist, every instrument is tuned down to a haunting level. Diego croons about how his love is sunny and groovy, how he's fighting back desire, how he yearns to hear every word they have to say. Eventually that soft croon gives way to screaming his desires like he can't hold back anymore. The delivery makes the fragmented lyrics even more intense, as though all reason has fallen away and all that's left is the obsession. The sultry caress of this song skates across the senses, and the pedal effects come in by the end to take you to another galaxy. It treats love like salvation and damnation all in one.
"Bow" does a complete 180. Taking on this outlaw tinged edge, the guitar rises to meet the vocals like a challenge. It's awake and alive and unyielding in the way the guitar scales higher and winds around before crashing back down into the drums and bass is like an attack. The lyrics "do what you’re gonna do, come, I’m not fucking scared” gnash their teeth and show that we've hit a tipping point. As we've followed the relationship behind the album, the end has finally arrived and it's being met with fearlessness.
The drumbeat in this one moves at a gallop, alongside a guitar solo that dances around you before spiraling downwards. As the main declaration is made, everything merges into this aggressive cacophony, and when the song comes to a close it hits like a door being slammed, with a level of enraged finality.
When the dust settles, "Swans" takes the stage. It starts off acoustic and full of mourning, quiet in its intimacy. The aftermath of that big fight where things have cooled down and all the things that were broken come into clear view in the light of day. Joudy builds on that acoustic sound by bringing in the full band as the vocals go from a whisper to a shout. Filled with words unsaid, the instruments almost drown out everything in a way that pushes the feeling of isolation. What really shocks the sense is the sudden switch at the end, the tempo changing into something exciting as though yanking you from all that darkness. The band pushes you to keep trying through guitar riffs that bounce along and jump from one note to the next, like coming in fresh from the other side. Everything isn't perfect, but you know you can survive, and maybe one day it'll be something better.
"Shovel" really encompasses the feeling of determination that Joudy has. The song acknowledges that progress is something you work on forever, looping back to the lesson of "Nail" in a new way as the lyrics warn that "no one is going to save you." The song is busy with improvised notes that appear in the background like fleeting thoughts. The rhythm section offers something you can't help but bob your head to, with the guitar kicking up that desire to head-bang once it gets going, the serpentine slide of strings jerking you all around. The lyrics go from this decisive charge forward to this taunting seductive rumble and back again. It brings that manic high of choosing to find purpose in the struggle.
(Not to spoil surprises, but maybe there’s a little extra on this album too. Something they didn’t even tell yours truly about. Something you have to stream the album to experience.)
Joudy outdoes themselves in this album. It forces you to confront all the harsh feelings that come with finding your place amongst the chaos. Even when the songs take on more somber tones, they don't let up on that base level of vitality. Everything feels alive from the highs to the lows, in a way that really encapsulates what it is to be human. It makes uncertainty the central focus, embracing the fact that existence is built upon the constant drive to change - the Permanent Maintenance.
Keep an eye out for more opportunities to catch Joudy on the next leg of their PERMANENT MAINTENANCE TOUR.