The Quaildogs bring something special to the table, that’s for sure. They seamlessly blend the gently earnest tone and harmonies of today’s hipster folk with the casual, back-handed irony of ’90s alt-rock. The end result is deliciously sharp. The Getting Old Factory begins with a hopeful chord, those trendy tambourines, and firmly puts us in our place:
I cook my food in a microwave
Think about all the time I saved
Haven’t left my apartment in days
But something tells me that the world still looks the same
The lyrics might seem more at home with distorted guitars and a shot glass, but the Quaildogs’ irrepressible determination to be unhappy makes it work. Somehow, the Quaildogs avoid irony. They capture the impatience of the early 20s (“Oh, shit — is this all there is? For the rest of my life? For real?”) with a resigned fatalism. Unlike their ’90s counterparts (and perhaps a little too in line with us millenials), they accept the drudgery of early adulthood without a fight. But The Getting Old Factory is more affirming than it is a downer. Maybe it’s because the lyrics are just so damn smart. With most of the songs clocking in at above 4 minutes, the album is one of those rare instances were rock’n’roll is elevated to something that is — dare I say — beautiful, intentional, and artistic. The Getting Old Factory is one of the best albums I’ve come across this year.
If you’re in New York City, you can catch the Quaildogs’ CMJ set tomorrow (10/17) at 4:45 at Leftfield on the Lower East Side for FREE.
The Quaildogs — Official, Facebook, Bandcamp, iTunes
If hating your 20s isn’t your thing but hating your ex is, check out Harvester’s Mt. Tallac, which will put some punk rock pep in your step.