album: Erotic Nightmare Summer — Carpool

words: aaron eisenreich

Early in the first song of Erotic Nightmare Summer, Carpool sing “your words hit me like a fucking sucker punch.” The same could be said about the group’s debut full-length, an album full of catchy hooks, crunchy punk guitar, and lyrics that straddle the line of depressing and lighthearted (“pick you your phone / I’m getting drunk alone” feels more like a fun sing-a-long moment than it does a despairing one). 

Sonically, Carpool falls somewhere between Prince Daddy & The Hyena and the group’s Acrobat Unstable labelmates, Short Fictions. The vocals are slightly cleaner than Prince Daddy, but the sugary punk feel remains, especially on songs like “The Salty Song (Erotic Nightmare Summer),” which could have soundtracked any teen movie from the early part of the century. In addition to the various audio clips interspersed throughout the record, the Short Fictions comparisons come with the loping, acrobatic guitar lines and extended jams that take the group’s catchy emo tunes to unique, unexpected places.

“Come Thru Cool (Punk Ass)”—one of two singles released in the run-up to the record—gives you a good idea of Carpool’s style. Driven by an infectious guitar melody and ear-catching lyrics like “this room’s become a hotbox for your toxic bad thoughts” and “fuck me up with your vocabulary,” it works as a great centerpiece for the album. The song is followed by “Toronto,” a punk rock “Kokomo” for 2020 that describes the city as an idyllic place “where the blunts don’t ever end.” Eventually, the song meanders to a bridge accented by a saxophone, before kicking back into the chorus topped off by an absolutely ripping guitar solo.

While the album mainly keeps things in the neighborhood of punk, Carpool shows off their range throughout, but particularly on the album’s final three tracks, which feature some slower tempos. “Liquor Store Employee (Old Friend)” starts deceptively slow, then morphs into a heavy coda. It’s followed by “East Coast West Coast,” the obligatory acoustic ballad. The repetitive melody grows comfortably through the song, accented by crescendoing strings and gentle glockenspiel (more punk songs should have glockenspiel).

The album closes with “Stolen Self Help (I Like You),” another slower acoustic tune full of charming couplets like “I think I’m stupid but I also don’t care / I fuckin’ love that thing you do with your hair,” and “I’ve been reading self-help books but they just don’t seem to help / Been drinking liquor but it’s never top shelf.” The song eventually swells with synths before breaking off to an audio clip summing up what Carpool is about, and adding a nice resolution to punctuate the end of the record.

For a debut full-length, Erotic Nightmare Summer is pretty stunning. There’s not a bad song or even an idea that fails to land. It’s an album I’ve been putting on first thing in the morning, and then repeating at least five times on most days. Really, my feelings on the record are expressed succinctly in the audio clip that begins that final track: “Carpool fucking rocks.”