Can a band sound too personal? Too local?
These are my burning questions as I break down the latest EP from Night Jobs of Minneapolis. The lyrics of these five songs are highly personal, from adopting pets to local transit routes to calling out people, by name, who have caused strife. They say to write what you know, and Night Jobs absolutely takes that to heart. Last time I saw them live they talked about the stories behind some of these songs, and I’ll simplify by stating that these are about past experiences over many years, cultivated into 3-minute reflections, memoir-style. It’s personal, it’s local -- but it’s inviting instead of insider. It works.
Think The Lawrence Arms meets Jawbreaker, but maybe slower or just a lot of “Bivouac” on repeat, set to that reflective storytelling structure. I personally get the most out of it via their built-up harmonies and well-placed bridges or, in the case of “Shop Dog,” crescendos. This EP definitely is more somber and plodding that their previous releases. Personal favorites are “Purple Weed” and “Jetbreaker” (which even brings in a trumpet). “Nirvana” and “Hennepin to Lowry” have their moments, but the pacing is a bit more drawn out and they don’t hit me quite the same way.
And if you need further metaphors, just look at the EP title and the album cover. This is working class punk rock, and I don’t mean street punk -- I mean that the band is grizzled and tired after a hard day’s work, but they still like to crack a PBR, hit a pinchie, and make the most of their limited time away from the grind, yelling out regrets to their friends in a sweaty basement or poorly lit bar.
