REVIEWS

REVIEWS

Music HQ

It’s Punk rock. The opening notes of “TRAP” rip through the speakers and punch you in the face.

No concern whatsoever for the trendy or the chart topping. No need. We speedily rewind to a time when the internet was still nonexistent or at most a dialup hassle, and cell phones weren’t small or smart. Desperate and needy attention seeking was acted out by climbing on top of the counters at the local pub and removing your shirt, instead of posing for another Instagram selfie in a black thong and broadcasting it to the whole world, including your fuming, embarrassed parents.

But it’s also fresh. It isn’t just a nostalgic ride through the musical landscape of the 80s and 90s or some lame tribute. It should certainly appeal to those sensibilities, but the production value is too polished and pristine, the instruments too real, and the lyrical content too heartfelt to be mistaken for a mere rehash of the yesteryear. Real work went into the creation of this album, a substantial budget too. If you put The Cult, The Cure, U2, Cyndi Lauper, and Foo Fighters in a blender and filtered it through modern lenses, it should come out sounding something like Future Religions.

If it’s going to be punk, though, it may as well be unapologetic. No messing around. And while Jody Lubin’s songs are pop enough to get stuck in your head, they’re not going to wait around for your Top 40-worn ears to process the fact that you’re not listening to the same trap beat sample packs you can download anywhere and sequenced Omnisphere synths you’ve been bombarding your earbuds with. Like the sharp, fanged, visual trickery of the blurry album cover (my eyes hurt), it’s devil may care, and you’d better keep up or you will get kicked to the curb. This is the bad-influence parental advisory stickered album at HMV your mom didn’t let you buy back in the day (and you secretly purchased one lunch hour to play on your Discman). Though, in this case a few well-placed expletives shouldn’t lead to bonfire burnings.

PITCH PERFECT- FUTURE RELIGIONS

Aficionados of the genre won’t be disappointed by anything on Future Religions.

There are hints that he has more to offer, beyond this small frame, and I hope that he will expand his horizons on his next release.

Jody Lubin has been releasing singles, with bands and as a solo artist, since 2017. In late 2020, he moved to Vancouver Island, British Columbia to reconnect with nature and himself; this move led to the release of Future Religions, his debut LP, where he wrote and sang all ten tracks. Lubin handles the guitars, bass and keyboards, as well, with Phil Gardner drumming. Guest guitarist Shockk Mongoose contributed lead guitar on one track.

Lubin describes his music as the result “if Nirvana and Taylor Swift had a baby.” “Valid,” my teenage daughter would say. On top of that, throw in the eighth-note fuzzy rhythm guitar figures from ‘90s rock, plus a healthy dose of your favorite DX-7 patches from 1983. Against the lush backing tracks, Lubin’s vocal stacks and harmonies are well done, and evoke a touch of longing and melancholy.

Most of the cuts follow a similar arrangement. Verses are quieter, and then the tracks kick up a notch for hooky choruses. After the second run through, Lubin includes a breakdown/solo section, before bringing back the (typically quite strong) chorus for one last go-around. Song tempos are similar as well, so most of the tracks clock in around right three-and-a-half minutes. Future Religions, therefore, feels like a “Best of Lubin” singles collection. Everything sounds great: mixing, mastering and production are top-notch and radio-ready. The songs are catchy and well-written, and you’ll be trapped and hooked by the time you hear the hook of “Trap,” the opening tune. But where’s the otherstuff?

Everything sounds great: mixing, mastering and production are top-notch and radio-ready. The songs are catchy and well-written, and you’ll be trapped and hooked by the time you hear the hook of “Trap,” the opening tune. But where’s the otherstuff?​When Lubin does venture (slightly) off-formula, he’s able to deliver, too.

“Take Care” keeps similar dynamics throughout, eschewing the high-gear chorus. Instead, subtly shifting keyboards support the longing lyric and vocal, much like a Yaz tune. “Oasis” does something similar, with atmospheric keyboards and guitars enveloping the “wash over, wash over me” lyric. The “trashier” drum sound on “Heartbeat” was a nice change up. And Shockk Mongoose’s guitar solo (“Stranger Things”) is out of this world. Lubin can write, sing and play, and he’s clearly mastered the three-and-a-half-minute pop-rock art form.

Aficionados of the genre won’t be disappointed by anything on Future Religions. There are hints that he has more to offer, beyond this small frame, and I hope that he will expand his horizons on his next release.

“If you have an idea you’re excited about and you don’t bring it to life, it’s not uncommon for the idea to find its voice through another maker. This isn’t because the other artist stole your idea, but because the idea’s time has come.”

― Rick Rubin, The Creative Act: A Way of Being