I (Don’t) Hate That: is a series where a Bearded Gentlemen Music writer presents one song to convince another writer to not hate a previously hated artist.
Aaron Cooper
In the 90s, everything was super. Well not literally. Most 90s stuff isn’t as good as you remember but that’s a topic for a different discussion. But back in those days, there were a lot of bands with super in the title. Supergrass, Super Furry Animals, and of course my all time favorite band Superdrag, But then there was Superchunk.
It was a name that always seemed to come up when I’d search for my favorite band but I never really gave them a fair chance.
I heard “Driveway To Driveway” a lot on the radio when I was younger and I believe I had the album it came from on cassette. To be honest, when I think of Superchunk the only other song comes to mind is “Like A Fool”. I’m not sure if its because I like that song or it’s the only song from the album I can remember. I know I tried checking them out a time or two over the last 20 something years but I can’t be too sure.
That’s my biggest problem with Superchunk though. I can’t say I legit hate them because I honestly can’t remember much about them. In some ways that’s kinda worse than hating them. If they sucked, at least it would be a passionate opinion. But from my memory, Superchunk is just kinda meh.
Faux-witty pop vocals, droning pre-emo melodies, and just all around blandness.
However, I understand they have a dedicated fan base and a lot of bands I listened to throughout the 2000s cite them as an influence. Am I missing something? Is there a song so good it will convince me to give Superchunk a super chance? Lemme hear it.
Kendon Luscher
Superchunk is interesting in that way. They’re like a low-key version of Velvet Underground in that the bands Superchunk influenced (Get Up Kids especially, who named their first album after a line from “Yeah, It’s Beautiful Here Too”) are more popular than the band itself despite also being worse. Their best album (Foolish — the album you own) has muddy production, which zaps pop-punk albums of their immediate appeal, turning a would-be classic into a grower.
Their best-known song to people who aren’t fans of the band (“Slack Motherfucker”) isn’t actually good.
As a ten year old living in Jamestown, NY in 1995, I only heard of this band because some employee at the record store at the mall put Here’s Where The Strings Come In into one of those listening stations with headphones attached that were positioned in ten foot intervals along the walls, between shelves of cassette tapes. Every time we went to the mall, I’d listen to a track or two at the station, and on my eleventh birthday, I used my birthday money to buy the damn thing (in my family, this is known as “The Time Kendon Got Lost At the Mall”, but that’s another story for another time).
The entire reason I ever got into this band in the first place is because this particular album increased its production value just enough that a pre-teen twerp who really liked Dookie and The Blue Album would give it an honest chance. This is a grace not afforded to most people, yourself included, who became aware of the band in their lo-fi days and most likely wrote off their early work.
Indie scenesters like to pretend that production value doesn’t matter and lo-fi makes music more immediate, personal and real, but that’s bullshit.
Production matters just as much as lyrics, musicianship, and songwriting. A band shouldn’t expect people to care if the songs are classics if they can’t hear the damn songs to their fullest. Bad production made those early works seem same-y and bland, exactly your complaints about the band based on two songs that have bad production.
All that changed from 1995 onward. And not only that, but the band stopped going full-tilt on literally every song, allowing their albums to breathe a little more and allowing for some weird (in a cool way) moments for all their music up to their 9 year hiatus that started in 2001 (they came back in 2010 with a few awesome albums, but those albums were more akin to their early work even if everything was a little crisper). They were finally able to truly shine, but for the most part, only people who were already liked them were aware. Those people and people like me who stumbled upon the band late. Everyone else mostly gave up or didn’t give their new albums the fair listens they deserved.
The song I’ve picked for you is “Detroit Has a Skyline”.
This song is not representative of the depth, patience, and pop-chops I just finished hyping. This song is more akin to those full-tilt early days… but with better production. I could have even picked a much-believed acoustic mix of the song, but I’m not going to do that. Despite everything I said, this seems like the fairest representation of the band — a mix of their ADD past and their refined future. This song is a bridge between their worlds.
There’s a good chance you could find this song meh and still adore most of their other work. I could have picked something more musically ambitious. But I’d rather die on this hill with Superchunk attacking with all guns blazing, selling you on this band with the song that sold me 24 years ago.
Aaron Cooper
Okay so first off, that song is full-tilt. Every guitar has the gain on ten, the drummer is on speed, the bass player is carrying the weight and the singer sounds like he’s on a pogo stick. Is that a bad thing? Absolutely not! I for one enjoy high-energy power pop with muddy production. (Some of Superdrag’s best work was their pre-label released recorded on 4 and 8 tracks). So despite your stance on production, I think you chose a good example. This particular song kinda reminds me of Dinosaur Jr in a weird way. Not only is that another band I love with all my heart, but the noise/melody ratio is what I’m drawn to when listening to a new band.
The production on this track isn’t good. In fact, I could probably engineer this album better myself.
But that’s the same thing I find the most appealing about it. There’s a certain, indescribable endearment to a band who is playing beyond their means. To an engineer, this sounds like 4 or 5 goons playing cheap entry-level instruments on a mediocre song. But to the person who understands artistry, this is 4 or 5 artists baring their souls by any means necessary. Guitars may be out of tune and the drummer slightly out of pocket, but that’s honesty. The kind of truth a virtuoso can’t be taught.
Romanticism aside, this sounds nothing like the songs I remember. There’s some emo-esque structure here and there (like the dual guitars playing opposing riffs simultaneously in the opening) but nothing seems offensively generic. I can totally see how they influenced a lot of early-to-mid 2000s pop-punk bands. Especially the ones who leaned a bit harder into the Warped Tour territory. I know that sounds like I’m bashing them but I mean it in the most positive way I can. As for the song itself, I legitimately like it!
Pop Punk was never really my thing even when I was a teenager, but I do appreciate raw energy and emphasis on melody.
Where most Pop Punk bands have their tongues firmly in cheek, this song tells me Superchunk were far more sophisticated than emulating pre-teen voices and faux-brattiness. You win this round Kendon. I don’t hate Superchunk. I’m going to give them a proper listen while thinking about their production vs. energy.
Also, does this make me an indie scenester?