By Japanese Breakfast
Genre: Chamber pop/indie pop Song to try: Paprika
This album is surely one of the albums I've referred to the most since starting this blog over on Tumblr two years ago, and I have no qualms with that at all. Apart from just slowly, over time, becoming one of my favourite albums of the decade so far I've decided to write this post for two reasons: one, to really lay out why I love this album so much; and two, to have something to link to in the constantly recurring event that I find myself needing or wanting to discuss it. So lets get into it shall we?
Jubilee & The Tortured Artist Trope
I will get into the track-by-track in a second, but some albums are so much more than the sum of their parts, and this is a very strong example. The album doesn't stick to any particular theme too strongly, but it does seem to have a clear aim: to legitimize happy music in the indie scene.
It is an unfortunate fact that, while most genres (and many mediums too, for that matter) have latched on pretty hard to the idea of pain being a necessity for good art, indie music seems to be particularly wrapped up in the mythology of the tortured artist. To be clear, I don't personally think negativity in art is inherently bad, and neither does Japanese Breakfast's Michelle Zauner by the looks of it, but there is definitely an overrepresentation of depression and anger in art, which I would argue has had a negative effect on music and it's fans in a perpetual, self-fueling spiral. Allow me to explain using a Cobra Effect analogy...
For those who aren't aware of the story, it goes something like this: In colonial India, there was an unsustainably high number of Cobras. The government, in an attempt to crack down on these Cobras, issued a bounty on them. Anyone that brought them a dead Cobra would be rewarded. In response, the citizens started creating Cobra farms, increasing the snake population and endangering themselves to get constant rewards from the government. Now, that story probably isn't true, but it holds a lot of rhetorical value, and I think it's apt to compare it to the relationship between expression of negative emotion in artistry and compensation for art.
Artists initially started expressing negative emotion to work through those emotions using a healthy outlet and eventually they started getting rewarded for it, being considered brave and artistic (and the fact it often helped others to work through those same feelings helped too). You may consider that a fitting reward for the artists bravery, but after a while it became a market in and of itself. If you were willing to express your negative emotions (or even just pretend to), you would be rewarded for it. There was a market that was ready to connect to your music on a very deep level and they would extol your virtues with the loyalty of someone with a life debt.
Artists soon realized that if you could farm negativity within yourself (or, again, convincingly pretend to), you would be rewarded handsomely, and most acted accordingly, pumping out pained ballad after pained ballad for the misery machine. Some of that would happen without the incentive, and some of it is my favourite music of all time, but the incentive cannot be ignored. We (the artists and the consumers of that art) have created an environment in which misery is romanticized and joy is stigmatized, with the sole exception of pop music which, thanks to a recent shift, seems to have a pretty balanced representation of emotions.
So this is what Jubilee stands in opposition to: not sadness in music, but the infatuation with that sadness. Jubilee says "I like sad music too, but there's more to life to explore in art". It rejects the lazy creativity of misery farming and strives to tap into a broader perspective on life, providing a stance on why the misery is worth living through. And that statement is made most strongly with the opening track.
Paprika
Paprika isn't the most popular song from this album. It might not even be top 3 (according to last.fm it's 4th), but I feel it should be. To me, while this song isn't the catchiest thing on the album, it has the potential to make a real positive impact on indie music (much like the album as a whole, just with wider reach). It also works as an excellent introduction to the album, so it may have even made the record more successful too if this song were given a push. But the song still exists and is considered a powerful piece of art by those who have listened to it, so let's delve into what is so special about this song.
Starting off with the lyrics, this is some of my favourite writing, definitely in music, and quite possibly in any form of media. It is everything I gushed about in the opening section of the post laid out in evocative lyrical perfection. It isn't entirely happy or sad, but instead approaches joy in a nuanced way, acknowledging that when joy is felt strongly it can come with a depressive hangover, but all the while insists upon the exhilarating rush of joy and that it is worth the pang of pain of immediate nostalgia you may feel afterwards.
The song has so much density of meaning, and everything is conveyed in such a clear and beautiful way. It's a perfect paragon of positive lyricism.
" Lucidity came slowly I awoke from dreams of untying a great knot It unraveled like a braid into what seemed were thousands of separate strands of fishing line Attached to a coarse behaviour it flowed A calm, it urged "what else is here?" "
But while the lyrics may be the highlight of this song for me, the instrumental from which the title comes (evoking a similar marching band sound to that of the anime of the same name) is also exceptional, unraveling in this magical way, with layered synths introducing you to the album, lulling you into a state of euphoric relaxation before a bright, bubbling melody brings in the previously mentioned marching band to a joyous pomp. The song develops fairly naturally from there with an added sprinkle of absurdist, wonky synthwork, but those first few moments are so incredibly powerful that the song could rely on that opening entirely and be a worthwhile listen.
If you only listen to one song from Jubilee, I highly recommend you make it this one. Is it the most fun song on the album? Not at all. But it encapsulates what the album is about so well, and is so important for the space in music that it occupies that I believe it should be the priority. If you also feel like having fun though, the next song has more than it's fair share...
Be Sweet
From an ode to joy to the most joyous-sounding song on the album. Be Sweet isn't easy to categorize thematically. Falling somewhere between a love song and a breakup song, the protagonist is asking for their partner to "be sweet" so that they can move on and be happy together. There is an everpresent acknowledgement that she is willing to leave should their partner not change their ways, but that she'd rather not have to do so. She loves her significant other, but the relationship has become untenable in it's current state. The balance is handled really well and paints a satisfyingly nuanced picture.
Sound wise, it really hones in on a carefree feeling which does wonders for that balanced "I'm going to be happy with or without you" impression you get from the lyrics, channeling funk and 80's synthpop aesthetics to help prop up that "Tell the men I'm coming" side of the song, but which can also be viewed as a celebration of a renewed relationship. It strikes an exceptional balance while also asserting itself as, by far, the most fun song on the album.
Kokomo, IN
As great as Be Sweet is, it does create a problem for the album (quite possibly the only problem I have) in that the sequencing is a little awkward following it, with the next track, Kokomo, IN, taking a sharp turn into the slow and wistful that feels a little jarring.
But a jarring switch up on track 3 or 4 isn't rare at all, with the album's introductory excitement wearing off and a change being required but with album's often going too big for their own good. What really sabotages an album is that track switch coming in the form of a lesser song, or not navigating the sequencing well from there. And thankfully I don't think the former is much of an issue, as while the song may not be my favourite on the album, it is still a clear example of Japanese Brakfast's knack for invoking the perfect emotion with sound. The feeling of nostalgic yearning and stasis is palpable here, and the balance of frustration and appreciation is handled shockingly well.
So that begs the question: how does it navigate the sequencing from there?
Slide Tackle
Exceptionally. The transition from a wistful, slow ballad to a plucky, somewhat dance-tinged song is an absolute masterstroke. It suits the album perfectly while setting up the rest of the album's sequencing well and does a great job of reinforcing the theme of joy, even as it tackles the subject of doubts or some harmful thought process preventing the protagonist from living life to the fullest.
It's absolutely still a hopeful song though, as the lyrics seem to imply a temporariness to the struggle, and the music itself begins upbeat and ends in full-on triumph. While it doesn't explicitly say what happens to the subject of the song, there is a strong emphasis on the positive, on hope, and an implication that it either does or will end up alright.
Posing In Bondage
This one is another highlight of the album for me. It creates a harsh soundscape, but one that you feel secluded and insulated from. As if you are wrapped in a loving cocoon amongst a harsh world. And that is about as fitting as it gets for an ode to the power of monogamy that also acknowledges it's downfalls. It's so beautiful it gives me chills.
" When the world divides into two people Those who have felt pain And those who have yet to And I can't unsee it Although I would like to Posing in bondage I hope you come home soon "
While the lyrics (partially lifted from Michelle Zauner's excellent book Crying In H Mart) seem to suggest that there is a negative tension within the relationship, you also get the impression that it is still very healthy and loving and that the tension ultimately strengthens their bond. That the short-term sacrifice of a lack of closeness and proximity creates an even stronger intimacy in the long run. It's a uniquely nuanced and subtle piece of writing from a very gifted writer who excels at nuance in dialectical writing.
Sit
This one is thematically similar in a lot of ways to the previous track. It is once again about yearning for connection, but it's played a lot more straight, and the implication here is not that the people in the song are in a long-term relationship, but rather that it is pure fantasy, whether about a total stranger or an estranged lover.
" Caught up in the idea of someone Caught up in the idea of you That's done too soon "
These lyrics are backed by noisy, dreamy synths in the verses that give way to a relatively minimalist and pleasant guitar in the chorus as the yearning turns to fantasizing.
It's a beautiful piece of music, albeit uniquely direct compared to the rest of the album, and manages to avoid feeling redundant, at least to me, following a similar track by virtue of pure quality. It might not be a highlight of the album like the songs that bookend it, but it is a song that the album would be worse off for not having.
Savage Good Boy
Savage Good Boy is an upbeat, tongue-in-cheek song about the rich escaping the consequences of apocalypse while offering a love interest the same escape in return for a romantic relationship. There is a lot of thematic depth packed into this little song too, from the endless pursuit of money and the pleasures it buys to the spoiled obsession that excess creates.
" I wanna make the money till there's no more to be made And we will be so wealthy I'm absolved from questioning "
Before I move on and talk about the instrumental a bit more, I'd like to point something out about the above lines that expose something important about the song more broadly: the self-centredness. This song is barely about the love interest at all. It is the most self-obsessed love song I've ever heard and I don't think that is an accident at all. It reflects the fact that the narrator doesn't really feel love for this woman. He feels a desire, not to be with her, but to have her play a role in his pursuit of patriarchal success, by any means necessary. He doesn't want to build a life around this woman, he wants her to slot neatly into his life inside his "billion dollar bunker for two". It is a subtle thing that is woven throughout the song and makes the satire even more piercing.
Now, as promised, a little about the sound of the song. For the most part, it's a pretty straightforward indie pop song, but there are a few elements added in to give it personality. Most notably, the backing vocals have been pitched up and it gives the song a very childish vibe, adding to and reinforcing the petulance implied within the lyrics. Another touch that does much of the same is that shrieking distortion on the guitar at the end of the song. A high-pitched guitar would probably do the trick on it's own, but the distortion seems to instill the feeling that there are stakes to this childish brat's demands and/or the meltdowns following a rejection of them. Once again, a song from Japanese Breakfast that paints a detailed picture with simple methods.
In Hell
While the album as a whole is about joy, this song is a downer through and through. Michelle Zauner has demonstrated on several occasions that she knows how to write about death, and this song is perhaps the finest example of that. It feels clinically brutal, as the lyrics allude to.
" And under the fluorescents Another sterile room where no one ever Tells you just how clinical death looks "
The song is just a constant flurry of lyrics that run the gamut of emotions felt in a situation like being the one to okay the death of a loved one who is unable to make that call for themselves. It's blunt. It's brutal. It's unfair. It's riddled with unwarranted, but totally understandable, guilt and I for one can't help but feel a hole carve out where my heart once was before it was savagely torn from my chest.
" Face to face And at my hands I snowed you in With hydrocodone Layer by layer 'til you disappeared "
Tactics
Next, we thankfully return to a more positive place: a place of understanding in spite of frustration. The song is about Michelle Zauner's relationship with her father after the death of her mother. It doesn't let him off the hook for his actions (namely, the distancing of himself from his daughter in a traumatic time in both of their lives), but it also acknowledges the hardship that brought about this awful pattern of behaviour. It doesn't just stop there though, as it gets introspective too, recognizing the good it has done for her (making her a less naive person when it comes to connecting with others) and the negative (the excess of that lack of naivety turning into an unhealthy distrust).
Adding to the very thoughtful depiction of these feelings is the instrumental which feels peaceful and meditative, but in a way that borders on anthemic somehow. It's a beautiful balance of the excitement needed to keep the listener engaged at this point while also centering the lyrics and doing what is best for the song first and foremost.
I think this serves as an important moment for the album's thesis. Much like how Dead Poets Society derives it's narrative power from the characters who most reject it and test it's statements, Jubilee might fall short if not for the fact that Michelle Zauner is testing her capacity for positive thinking by focussing on someone she likely feels a lot of resentment for. And that could just as easily make the album's message work convincingly as it could make it fall apart, but Michelle Zauner once again proves her talent for writing by, as mentioned earlier, putting forth an understanding picture of the situation that feels sincere. It's not entirely flattering, but it remains positive without feeling forced, which is the best thing she could possibly do to convince you of the album's thesis.
Posing For Cars
In the album's closer, the focus shifts back to the most accepted form of positivity within music: love. But Japanese Breakfast wouldn't be content with a simple love song, so instead, Michelle Zauner finds the nuance in her relationship with another person to write about with an added sincerity. As the title implies, there's a discomfort there, it's messy, not ideal, but the love doesn't falter, even as there is a clear rift in the forms their respective expressions of love take. The narrator is excitable in love, frantic, limerent, maybe even needy, while her partner is more laid-back, still loving, but in a way that doesn't need to reaffirm itself. It doesn't feel like the relationship is one-sided, even if the narrator describes a situation where she loves more actively than the other person, instead it feels like the pair compliment each other's personalities to make them a great couple with a love that can stand the test of time.
So that's why I feel as though Jubilee is one of the most important albums for the music industry, particularly the indie music scene. It is a collection of odes to positivity that don't feel forced and fake, but instead strike the necessary balance to make each song feel like a representation of a real perspective on life that can actually be sustainably replicated. It makes positivity feel like not just the right way of going about life, but a possible way of living life, and a way that doesn't make you fake or boring. On the contrary, there is so much sincerity, nuance, introspection, and intelligence in this album that it puts Morrissey to shame (as much as I respect his writing too). The tortured artist isn't dead, but they aren't royalty to be heralded either.
Thank you for reading my hyperfixated ramble about one of my favourite albums, I hope you got something out of it, and if you haven't already, I hope you give Jubilee a listen. Her/their album before it, Soft Sounds From Another Planet is great too, albeit not as thematically rich, and if you're up for it, it'd make for great listening ahead of their new album's release.
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