"In his Meeting Tree incarnation, Joyride was able to hide behind a sophisticated façade; he could play the role. Here, we get the whole truth."
Being the most fun person in the room must be a blessing and curse. When the pressure is on to have a good time, one can imagine everyone’s attention turning to Joyride: a ball of charisma, intelligence, melody, rhythm and arcane sporting trivia. Here, he reveals a little more of himself.
Opener On The Level sets up the revelatory tone. In the past when our host has taken to the piano keys, he’s done so with a wink; letting us know that he’s in on the joke, and that piano crooning is played out. Here, the opposite is true. We are offered a promise, we receive an apology, and we are asked to contemplate. This is not the work of a prankster. Left’s Sarah Corry closes the reflection with conviction: “We’ll tear the door off the hinges and burn that fucker to the ground.”
The achievement is not quite a Roosevelt quote, but for someone who has walked the line between searing musical engagements and public japes with The Meeting Tree, the development is clear. Critics cower, and the honest are courageous. Joyride is leaving behind those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.
Throughout, our host proves his serious, grown-up credentials. Thanks to the internet, the word “epic” no longer means anything but Cut And Run, all swoon and synthy euphoria, does its best to give the word a little meaning. And the hook – the hook! – is a genuine, shining fist-pump moment.
Blue Batmans has a surprisingly welcome tinge of melancholy. In years past, if Joyride asked us to, “Imagine if you could pause one moment,” we would have thought of a perfect party or a mind-altering experience of some kind. Here, again, we face a blast of genuineness, punctuated by melancholy and nostalgia. It amplifies the arresting melodic journey we’re taken on.
Stay Awake is a layered treatise on loneliness and the comfort you take from watching the sunrise with your tired lover. But for a song which is essentially about the consequences of partying hard, it’s surprisingly moving. It works as a microcosm for the record with a moment of fun leading to a moment of introspection.
And this is a fun record, for sure! But it carries with it the exquisite pain of yearning. In his Meeting Tree incarnation, Joyride was able to hide behind a sophisticated façade; he could play the role. Here, we get the whole truth.
The development is perhaps most clear on massive banger Kings And Queens, an ode to Sydney, and a dancefloor dirge for its failings. But, again, the silliness is window dressing. There is something profound going on here.
When Joyride swoons, “All you fucken cops are gonna have to come and get me!” it is not an empty joke or a cute brag. It is a glorious call to arms. We are to confront authority and embrace each other. For Joyride – on this record, as never before – having fun is serious business. Get this.