Review Summary: Monica Lewinskibidi Toilet
Few bands in the pop-punk (sorry, post-emo*) space have quite hit the stride that Hot Mulligan have hit in recent years. From their initial breakout in 2020 with the more midwest emo-ish ‘You’ll Be Fine’, to the absolute explosion they had in 2023 with ‘Why Would I Watch’, the “#1 hot new post emo band” have been on a roll. Now, with the release of their fourth full-length album, ‘The Sound A Body Makes When It’s Still’, the Michigan-based outfit looks to continue that.
In many ways, Hot Mulligan found their sound with ‘Why Would I Watch’, and ‘The Sound A Body Makes When It’s Still’ is a testament to that, marking the first album in their discography to feel like a direct successor to the one before it, both sonically and lyrically. The record shares ‘Why Would I Watch’s heavy usage of interludes, more aggressive deliveries, and soaring emo choruses, but gives each element room to breathe, making use of acoustic breaks and atmosphere building to build upon it. There’s more diversity from track to track, see the raging fast-paced tempo and technical riffage of “Cream of Wheat of Feet Naw Cream of (Feat.)” or the lyrically-driven, emotionally charged power ballad “Carbon Monoxide Hotel”, or the tearjerking, grief-stricken acoustic number “Milam Minute”. It’s Hot Mulligan’s most focused and cohesive work to date, as well as their most vulnerable.
Aptly fitting the album’s title, ‘The Sound A Body Makes When It’s Still’ tackles grief, regret, and addiction head-on with brutal honesty, although not without the band’s signature level of irony. ‘And a Big Load’ starts off the central theme of the album, contemplating the realities of the decision to either face or avoid the consequences of your actions and how to cope with them through the lens of the anxiety one feels in those moments as opposed to through a view of enlightenment. It’s a scary choice to make that comes with pain either way, and the album explores the fear of the outcome of either choice. “Island In The Sun” peers into the headspace of committing to substance abuse to avoid the consequences and “Bon Jonah” sees the realization of how that commitment impacts those around him. Later on the album, “Mix Master Wade On The Beat” and "Carbon Monoxide Hotel” see the unhealthy coping mechanisms catching up in the fallout of the effects of those around him.
Halfway through the album, the heart-wrenching “Monica Lewinskibidi” poetically mourns the loss of a loved one, a hometown falling into disrepair, and the regrets the narrator feels in their absence. “Milam Minute” plays out future conversations that’ll never take place in the wake of the loss. In contrast, the album starts to take a more hopeful turn in its third act, with “Let Me See Your Mounts” and “Monster Burger and a $5 Beer” seeing the narrator come to terms that sobriety and listening to the sound your body makes when its still is necessary to mend and is worth living despite how terrifying and uncomfortable it is. “Slumdog Scungillionare” serves as the penultimate track and ties everything together, twisting and weaving its way through genre switch ups and musical (and mental) breakdowns, building with intensity until its final bridge. The bridge of the song serves as my favorite moment on the album and is an incredibly satisfying payoff.
The biggest improvement that sticks out to me is Tades and Chris’ ability to tell a story and their songwriting chops. From start to finish, the lyrics are descriptive and visual, allowing the listener to place themselves in the exact contexts of each song or vividly paint a picture of what’s being said. This sort of surreal approach to songwriting makes the record not only feel more cohesive, but also that much more emotionally intense at points. However, this emphasis does often leave the album to be a little less captivating and engaging upon a casual first listen compared to ‘Why Would I Watch’. Not to say there aren’t incredibly catchy moments like “It Smells Like Fudge Axe In Here”, but there’s less peaks and big moments sonically, and I found myself needing more time with these songs overall to fully process and click for me than I did with its predecessor.
At its core, ‘The Sound A Body Makes When It's Still’ is nothing but sincere. There’s a charm to the way Tades’ rough screams and intrapersonal lyrics cut through the mix over the laid back arpeggiated guitar lines and often off-kilter drum grooves. If you haven’t gathered by now, the ridiculous titles of each song have absolutely nothing to do with its own subject matter and that level of irony is a signature part of Hot Mulligan’s identity (ie: the aforementioned “Island In The Sun” sounding like the perfect soundtrack for a beach day instrumentally) and that is true of every song… except for the closer, and for that one song, “My Dad Told Me To Write A Nice One For Nana So This Is It”, is well, that’s exactly what it is. A short, quiet acoustic piece dedicated to Sanville’s Nana, it softly holds your hand through its end. Everything about the album feels personal and true to self, both in its layers of irony and its raw vulnerability. While the album sees them sharpen and refine their skills, there’s nothing here groundbreaking or too unexpected of the band-- but it doesn't need to be. It's genuinely authentic to Hot Mulligan, and the vulnerability and candor on display will resonate with both fans and new listeners.
