There was a time when I’d listen to, then-current punk rock and relate to the lyrics more than any composition. When bands like Brand New or Taking Back Sunday spit bros-before-hoes vitriol, it just felt so relatable. Call it naivety or being the target audience, but the early 2000s were prime real estate for that sort of thing. Then I grew up. Don’t get me wrong, some of those bands evolved too. But for the most part, looking back at what I thought was relatable is kind of embarrassing. However, I can’t say the same things about bands like Timeshares.
Formed at the tail end of the mainstream emo movement, Timeshares had more in common with the likes of Sunny Day Real Estate and The Replacements. Maybe with a little Lucero thrown in for good measure. Most importantly, their debut album Bearable came at a time when I was turning my back on teen angst and accepting the existential dread of adulthood. Then, their second record, 2015’s Already Dead dropped just as I was experiencing the real heartache of an adult breakup. Cathartic and heartfelt, Timeshares were more than a band but a group of friends who had been there.
It’s been nearly a decade since then and now Timeshares have returned with their 3rd full-length, Limb. What are they relating to now?
Oddly (or predictably) enough, Limb ties directly into my insecurities, jaded exhaustion, and continued existentialism. But as I itch closer and closer to 40, Timeshares aren’t as apprehensive as I am when it comes to facing the inevitable. From the witty sarcasm of the opening track, “Dead Birds” all the way to the liberating finality of “The Moon”, it’s obvious the dudes in Timeshares have experienced the same kind of reluctant growth we’ve all had over the past 8 years. I don’t know much about the band members’ personal lives but I think its safe to say the past few years have been anything but a walk in the park.
Outside the brutal honesty of the upbeat tracks, Limb features a hefty amount of soul-bearing transparency. The lead single “Siren Sound” is a soaring anthem about the protagonist swapping lives with his golden retriever. One gets to live out a life of culturally rewarding adventures, while the other gets to put his primary focus on being a loyal companion. While whimsical and endearing in theory, there’s still an indescribable sadness to the entire scenario. Essentially, we’ve found ourselves in a place where we’re willing to give up our freedom if it means no longer having to deal with society. These little moments of frailty in Limb make Timeshares come alive.
Sonically speaking, Limb shows Timeshares have evolved as musicians just as much as lyricists.
With production by Joe Reinhart (Beach Bunny, Foxing, Modern Baseball) Timeshares have fine-tuned their DIY basement-style garage rock to something closer to resembling Being There-era Wilco or a punk rebirth of Bruce Springsteen. By taking the angst down a few notches, there’s even room for subtle experimentation. There’s an abundance of keys giving so many of these songs flavor. Even a brass ensemble makes a brief appearance! “Motor City ’03” (my personal favorite track on Limb) takes so many twists and turns in structure, the fibrous deconstructed guitar riffs go so far beyond weird they sound right at home.
From witty lyrics and sugary hooks to robust compositions and glossy production, it’s the heart and soul that takes center stage.
Just as Bearable welcomed me into adulthood and Already Dead soundtracked my broken heart, Limb is here for my next chapter. I may not be as reckless as I used to be, but I’m confident. By the time “The Moon” closes the album, I feel like I’ve accepted the highs and lows of adulthood with endearment. Instead of creeping on the Facebook profile of the girl who broke my heart 8 years ago, maybe I’ll instant message her and say I’m doing alright. Like an emotional punch straight to the heart, Limb feels like my record. These guys may have once bought me a beer to cry into but now we’re smashing the empty bottle out back. While most of the punk bands I related to back then have become something else entirely, Limb is the kind of record we need to fill that void.
Limb is now available on Wiretap Records and streaming on Bandcamp.
original cover art photo by Jake Cunningham @ Courage & Co. Photography