Review Summary: trancensdatental
What does it mean to ‘transcend’ a genre? Is it when a band like PUP manages to make pop punk for people who don’t like pop punk? Is it when Deafheaven bathes black metal in, you know, sun? Or is it simply a pretentious notion artists and reviewers alike employ to sound
intelligent? I don’t know, but hear me out, Prince Daddy and the Hyena might just be… transcending… emo(/punk/diyshiz/whatever). They aren’t reinventing the genre, nor are they moving away from it; instead, the band have become experts at combining different flavours of
sangry in a way that feels genuine and actually sounds good. Is that transcendental? oh shi wait i forgot to cancel my dentist appoi
Prince Daddy have been
ambitious for quite some time now: 2019’s
Cosmic Thrill Seekers was a massive concept album about, uh, drugs and wizards (of the oz kind) and probably other shit, without the final product losing any of the punky DIY charm that defined the band’s previous work. Yet, while the record is brilliantly written and deeply authentic, it is also somewhat hindered by this very authenticity: Kory Gregory’s vocal performance was, to put it lightly, an acquired taste. Not a single note was hit on
CTS; not because he couldn’t quite get there, but rather because that
aesthetic is exactly what the record embodied: an absolute fucking mess of confusing excellence. Fast forward three years,
Prince Daddy & the Hyena is another concept record about death and probably other shit, but uh hey: you might actually be able to put this on at your grandma’s place/funeral/okaymaybenotfuneral. Kory is hitting them notes, and while still constituting a clusterfuck of influences and sounds, the album is smoother, catchier, and just altogether better than anything the band have ever crafted before. It’s filled with self-references, raw explorations of trauma, and a lot of attempts to find some joy in life. oh yea i did my taxes the other day but idk if i did them right what uh shou
Thankfully, the band do not trade energy or authenticity for this newfound sense of explicit listenability. Opening cuts ‘Adore the Sun’ and ‘A Random Exercise in Impermanence (The Collector)’ provide a perfect one-two punch contrasting the former’s sunny vibes with the latter’s punchy punkisms. It’s the type of contrast that isn’t there for the sake of contrast or depth or coolness or something: it’s merely there because this is how Prince Daddy operate. They’re easily distracted, they’re happy to include synths if it suits the song’s atmosphere (‘El Dorado’), they’re fine with reserving the record’s prettiest riff for a strange one-and-a-half minute long highlight (‘Something Special’): they’re just kinda down for whatever. That being said,
Prince Daddy & the Hyena’s
whatever is a whatever of high quality. The whatever can include ‘Black Mold’: a disorienting nine minutes that might comprise the record’s best track, or its very worst. You might be disappointed if you are expecting an opus that uses each second to make a grand statement. On top of that, it makes very little sense following the lovely maybe-interlude ‘Discount Assisted Living’, but, simultaneously, it can also be interpreted as a pretty nice change from the record’s constant refusal to fully round out many of its best moments. It provides a nice change from the, eh, constant changes, you know... btw speaking of changes where tf is my phone it was here like a seco
Prince Daddy & the Hyena is a mess, but it’s one hell of a catchy and surprisingly smooth mess. It’s an album that finds sense in and because of an inherent lack of structure, while acknowledging its shortcomings with a smirk. I wouldn’t have Prince Daddy any other way. This is transcendental stuff, maybe, whatever, let’s grab a drin
