The Wonder Years – Suburbia: I’ve Given You All and Now I’m Nothing

Two years ago The Wonder Years released their landmark sophomore album, The Upsides.  The album received such a positive spin that Hopeless Records reissued the disc with a few deserving b-sides less than 12 months later, and the buzz grew.  The Upsides became one of those rare generational statements, hooking fans and reviewers alike with its conversational style and approachable hooks.

Less than a year later and all eyes are back on The Wonder Years for their formal Hopeless Records debut, Suburbia: I’ve Given You All and Now I’m Nothing.  As many reviewers have pointed out, the album title lifts its inspiration from Allen Ginsberg’s 1956 poem, “America.”  Now, if you’re like me and you’re not an English Literature major, then that really doesn’t mean anything in itself.  However, the reference serves as a great example of the Pennsylvania pop punkers’ ambitions, and is but a small part of what makes them tower over others in what often gets brushed aside as a shallow genre.

Suburbia takes everything that made The Upsides a success and fine tunes the formula without radically altering any major mechanics.  The band still meets listeners with raw honesty and introspection, but with greater confidence and compositional ability.  Dan “Soupy” Campbell subscribes to his same New Found Glory and Yellowcard brand of pop punk, without much of the wiry whine that risked alienating some listeners.  Combined, superior vocals and overall better song writing make for a marked improvement on an already solid foundation.

Listening to Suburbia is like sitting down and catching up with an old friend.  You can’t help but get excited to hear the stories you’ve missed since your last encounter.  Similarly, Suburbia serves as somewhat of an extension and update to many of encounters in The Upsides, returning to familiar locales and encountering recognizable faces.  I never had The Wonder Years “fever” like many succumbed to, so I didn’t catch on to too many of these moments, although I certainly caught the reference to Logan Circle in “Local Man Ruins Everything.”  Generally the album rewards the time you put into it without alienating new listeners.

Regardless of familiarity, listeners will find themselves won over by The Wonder Years’ incredibly truthful monologues.  “I guess you call this regression; I left a real job and a girlfriend” sings “soupy” on “Came Out Swinging,” continuing “I spent a whole year in airports… I lost track of time zones,” as he opens the album with a simply summary presumably inspired by the band’s own sacrifices. Suburbia raises eyebrows with line after line of playfully dramatic and engaging comparisons, developing into song after song of revealing confessions.  As seen on “Woke Up Older,” even the simple act of leaving comes with unique dramatics: “you left the room, receded like my hairline,” to which he adds “I aged a year this week,” as he reflects on the psychological strains of one’s social life.  Never one to be at a loss for resolution, they fire back on “Local Man Ruins Everything,” expunging any hint of hopelessness in the optimistic chorus “It’s not about forcing happiness; it’s about not letting sadness win.”  The band’s wisdom is deep, and their appeal universal.  Even the simplest act – like hitting up Denny’s for a Grand Slam during late night summer drives on “Summers in PA” – captures a relatable snapshot (who hasn’t been guilty of this before?) with all of its accompanying connotations.

Musically, Suburbia is every bit as approachable as its lyrics.  There’s a certain laid back feel to whole affair that’s a rare find these days.  In many ways The Wonder Years feel effortless, but at the same time coming across coolly calculated.  Tracks like “Suburbia” trot along at a mid-tempo pace, pulling off hooks with infectious melodies, while others like “I’ve Given You All” cool down and offer up a reflective acoustic atmosphere.

The only noticeable hiccup comes with a few less pronounced tracks, particularly the religious dismissive track, “I Won’t Say The Lord’s Prayer.”  The track preaches a message of wanting to take control of one’s life and living under your own identity instead of one prescribed.  There’s some strong imagery (like that of local churches), but the message feels dilute.

Generally speaking, Suburbia is an album that just works.  In many ways it is exemplary of what pop-punk can aspire to be without losing sight of its fun loving nature.  The songs are easy to listen to, with easy to digest scenarios.  In the span of a under two years The Wonder Years have matured into one of pop punk’s most capable.  Look for Suburbia: I’ve Given You All and Now I’m Nothing on year-end lists everywhere.