The Top 100 Songs of 2018, Part Three: 60 – 41

We have arrived at the Bon Jovi position of the DJY100. We are halfway there, folks. And then some. Part one is here, part two is here and now… part three!

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60. Joyce Manor – Million Dollars to Kill Me

Of Joyce Manor’s five albums, Million Dollars may be its most cryptically titled. Does it allude to some sort of bounty? Defiance? Survival? The cost of living? The album’s title track doesn’t make it any clearer – in fact, it muddies the waters even further by detailing a demised relationship where, while both parties are still fond of one another, the proverbial writing is on the wall. Truth be told, none of that really matters when it comes down to it. “Million Dollars” is one of the strongest, sharpest songs Joyce Manor has ever written. What’s in a name, anyway?

59. CHVRCHES – Get Out

Fun as it may be, synthpop is a genre with limited scope by definition. Nevertheless, CHVRCHES have found ways to make room, innovating within their palette across three albums in five years. Their most recent, Love is Dead, was their most ambitious and accessible to date. “Get Out” was the lead-in, and ended up being about as strong a start one could hope for. With claps so hard there’s no way they could have been produced by a human, matched up with a vulnerable vocal delivery that could have only come from a human, “Get Out” exists in perfect tessellation.

58. Drake – God’s Plan

Everything about “God’s Plan” feels massive. That’s to be expected at this stage when it comes to Drake, of course – his movements feel seismic in the present-day pop climate – but the way this song announced itself to the world somehow hit in a different way. That could well have something to do with its good-samaritan music video, which is well on its way to a billion YouTube views, or the earth-orbiting Cardo beat kicking in. Maybe the endlessly-quotable lyrics had soemthing to do with it. Whatever it was, it worked. The Lord works in mysterious ways, after all.

57. Death Cab for Cutie – Gold Rush

“Gold Rush” has been dismissively referred to as Ben Gibbard’s first “get off my lawn” song. Sure, our emo hero of yesteryear is now a married 42-year-old millionaire – but he ain’t Clint Eastwood yet. Rather, he’s channelling two iconic women of the 70s here: Yoko Ono – whose “Mind Train” is sampled in the song’s feedback-loop backing – and Joni Mitchell, who penned a similar song of gentrification and disenfranchisement in “Big Yellow Taxi.” At a time where they could have easily phoned it in, Death Cab deserve kudos for delivering such a sonically-interesting curveball. “Gold Rush,” decidedly, glitters.

56. The Beths – Future Me Hates Me

It’s a phrase that, somehow, hadn’t been strung together before The Beths concocted it for their debut album’s title track. It’s something that uses a double negative of tense to create something immediately familiar – “I am doing something that I might not regret now, but that I will soon look upon as a mistake.” It’s about the inherent risk that comes with a budding relationship, as detailed through the lense of tingly, electric power-pop that hammers home huge chords and warm vocal arrangements. The Beths make music for the here and now – that’s why it’s called the present.

55. Luca Brasi – Never Better

A standout from the Tasmanians’ fourth album, “Never Better” is a reflection on facades and brave faces. If we’re ever asked if we’re okay, all of us have used the titular phrase as means of reassurance. Here, vocalist Tyler Richardson removes the veneer and draws in listeners with some of his most brutal, honest lyrics: “Every effort feels so tired and rehearsed,” he laments at one point; “I’m coming apart at the seams,” he confesses at another. His bandmates drawback and venture into more restrained, twinkly musical territory to ensure these words are crystal clear. Songs like “Never Better” matter.

54. Cash Savage and the Last Drinks – Pack Animals

If you walk into the Old Bar in Fitzroy, a giant Cash Savage poster is a centerpiece on the band-room wall. It’s borderline messianic – fitting really, for whenever Savage is on stage, sermon is in session. Tell ’em that God’s gonna cut you down: “Pack Animals” is one of Savage’s most biting, blunt songs ever. As The Last Drinks encroach on a pulsating rhythm with urgent, dischordant delivery, Savage righteously tears into some poor normie dickhead who thinks he understands political correctness because he’s read 12 Rules for Life. Fuck him, and fuck you if you don’t like this.

53. Press Club – Suburbia

Less than two years into their time as a band, Melbourne’s Press Club have promptly swept the nation with a must-see live show and a take-no-prisoners debut album. If you’ve somehow been centrally located beneath a boulder of some description, fear not: Your immediate entry point is “Suburbia,” a song so rousing and anthemic that a crowd can overpower a PA when singing its refrain. Vocalist Nat Dunn sounds like she’s going so hard the mic might blow up, while her bandmates seemingly have sparks flying off them the whole time they’re locked in together. Your heart belongs here now.

52. Aunty Donna feat. Demi Lardner – Best Day of My Life

Supreme overlords of comedic absurdism, Aunty Donna have been making dark surrealism a compact, shareable form for years. In 2018 they turned their attention to music, creating an album of send-ups and gut-laugh pastiches. Among the highlights is a song that also doubled as the opening number of their festival show for the year, a back-to-school celebration about all the things that make young students tick. Maybe some that probably shouldn’t, too – see the cameo from self-described “horrid little troll” Demi Lardner for more. “Best Day” is as tasty as a scone and as hard-hitting as a big stick.

51. James Bay – Pink Lemonade

James Bay? The motherfucker with the hat? That James Bay? Yes, believe it or not, the “Hold Back the River” singer had a Charlie Puth-style pop reinvention in 2018, releasing a decent coming-of-age “I fuck now” record in Electric Light. In a weird way, however, Bay almost overshadowed himself – “Pink Lemonade” is so far ahead as the album’s frontrunner, you almost question why the other songs bothered showing up. A neon-tinged nu-rock number, the song sees Bay indulging a more soulful tear in his vocals while a wall of electric guitar churns against the slick production. Best served cool.

50. Amy Shark feat. Mark Hoppus – Psycho

The likes of Amanda Palmer and Nardwuar have waxed lyrical about the art of asking. So it went that Amy Shark reached out to her teenage idol, blink-182’s Mark Hoppus, to work on a song for her debut album. Not only did it eventuate, but it turned out to be the highlight of the record. “Psycho” offers a dark, duelling perspective on an intense relationship as soundtracked by pensive guitars and restrained drum programming. The latter eventually gives way to live drums complementing Shark’s high notes, and it’s one of the year’s best dynamic payoffs. Ask and you shall receive.

49. The 1975 – Sincerity is Scary

The 1975 have never released a song like “Sincerity is Scary” before. It’s soulful, piano-driven and would feel more at home in a jazzy nightclub than a pop playlist. It may well be the single biggest stylistic leap they have ever taken – and yet, they made it to the other side completely unscathed. They didn’t do it alone, certainly – a sizzling horn section and a faithful gospel choir propel the song’s finer points – but it’s a complete credit to how adaptable and ambitious this band has become that songs like this can thrive.

48. Nas feat. The-Dream and Kanye West – everything

In 1996, Nas released one of all-time definitive hip-hop tracks in “If I Ruled the World” – a song with big dreams, hopes and aspirations. “everything” is its spiritual successor, some 22 years on, and although its surroundings are bleak there is that same white light of hope that seeps in as the piano resolves on a major chord and Kanye proclaims – almost exactly as Lauryn Hill did – that he would change everything if he could. “everything” is a song about black history, success stories and perseverance. It’s easily the best Nas song in at least a decade.

47. Aunty Donna feat. Boilermakers and Montaigne – The Best Freestylers in the World

The best satire of a form comes from a place of love. Montaigne loves to belt out a big hook, Matt Okine loves hip-hop and the Aunty Donna boys love improv. The difference here is that Montaigne and Okine are actually good at these things normally. When Broden, Mark and Zack throw themselves into the world of freestyle rap, they are deers in headlights. What follows is something so ridiculous that it ends up being completely hilarious and a loving satire of the form. Bonus points: Okine’s street-tough, ad-libbed barks of “Target Country, motherfucker!” and “That’s too much for pants!”

46. Cry Club – Walk Away

In 2017, Australia underwent a plebiscite to determine whether marriage equality should be legalised. It sparked a few key songs in reaction: The aforementioned Cash Savage wrote “Better Than That,” while Brisbane’s Good Boy offered the blunt “A Waste of Approximately 122 Million Dollars (Taxpayer Funded).” For their debut single, Cry Club rallied against every curmudgeonly conservative fuck that stood in the way of a massive step towards equality. It rumbles, it rages and when the count-along pre-chorus kicks in it fucking rules. Forget their trademark glitter: “Walk Away” is the sound of a band donning warpaint. Join the Club.

45. Muncie Girls – Picture of Health

It can take a lot of courage to reach out from a point of despair, uncertain as to how you’ll come across and how it might impact the people you care about. With “Picture of Health,” Muncie Girls’ Lande Hekt sees themselves in another – and that’s not a good thing in this case. It’s a song that’s just as much about co-dependence as it is about self-care, and how there’s nothing wrong with seeking solace in either. As luck would have it, it’s also one of the sharpest and catchiest songs the band has ever written. A healthy choice.

44. IDLES – Danny Nedelko

The idea of helping your fellow man and treating others as you wished to be treated seems like such a basic concept, but if 2018 proved anything it’s that humanity isn’t quite there yet – especially over in the UK, which is more openly racist and transphobic than ever before. IDLES literally have to spell it out on the second single from their second album, paraphrasing Yoda and referencing Pavement for good measure. Such is the passion and conviction of “Danny Nedelko,” you feel like you could kick in the door of number 10 in one go once it’s finished.

43. Moaning Lisa – Carrie (I Want a Girl)

Time for some girl talk. Moaning Lisa’s breakthrough single is, by their own admission and design, a very lesbian affair. It’s celebrity crushes and heart-eyes-emoji lust, as backed by a slinking bass-line and a big-business riff. They cut to the point, and will wash you right out of their hair if you disagree. Even if you’re not – as 10 Thing I Hate About You put it – a k.d. lang fan, there’s so much to enjoy here that it doesn’t even matter. If you can appreciate a tongue-in-cheek indie-rocker with an attitude to it, you can get behind “Carrie.”

42. Skegss – Smogged Out

Unfairly dismissed by most as doofus garage-rock for burnouts and the bullies from your high school, Skegss have had to fight more than your average band for credibility and validity. It’s unclear whether they’ve achieved it with My Own Mess, their long-awaited debut LP, but at this juncture they’re well beyond fretting over what the post-woke blue ticks of the world reckon about them. Their allegiance is to KISS-principle jangle with subtle undertones and festival-mosh choruses. “Smogged Out” may be one of their best efforts in this department yet, putting a pogo bounce into a song of malaise and pity.

41. DJ Khaled feat. Justin Bieber, Quavo and Chance the Rapper – No Brainer

In 2017, DJ Khaled assembled his own Avengers and gave us “I’m the One,” which promptly took over and simultaneously saved the universe. Although not a complete reunion – Weezy is inexplicably absent – “No Brainer” is a sequel that’s just as enticing a big-budget blockbuster as its predecessor. Although from a scientific standpoint there was no song of the summer this year, “No Brainer” felt about as close a contender as you were likely to get: A whole crew of A-listers flexing over a bassy beat and smart, simple chord progressions? The choice is obvious. Even little Asahd approves.

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Part four with you at the start of 2019 – it’s so soon!

Check out the updated playlist with all of the DJY100 in it so far:

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The Top 100 Songs of 2018, Part Two: 80 – 61

Hey, reader! Make sure you’re all caught up with the first 20 songs by clicking here. They’re good, I promise – and, wouldn’t you know it, these ones are even better!

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80. Moaning Lisa – Lily

Moaning Lisa’s second EP, Do You Know Enough?, is the audio equivalent of four seasons in one day. When “Lily” rolls around, the storm is settling in and things are taking a turn for the worse. A considerable stylistic departure for the Canberra natives, “Lily” is a slow-motion lucid dream in which a private universe crumbles and drifts into the abyss. Anchored by picked-out bass and beds of guitar feedback, the song subtly sweeps and builds to what may be the single most devastating lyric of the year: “Now I have nothing left for you to take.” Welcome to heartbreak.

79. Joyce Manor – Think I’m Still in Love with You

When Joyce Manor dropped Cody back in 2016, the cool kids gave them a bunch of shit for it. Pitchfork said it sounded like Everclear – like that was a bad thing! Still, it must have gotten to them in one way or another – their fifth album, Million Dollars to Kill Me, is even poppier than last time. Hell, this track from it in particular sounds like a lost Cheap Trick single, all tight harmonies and chugging major chords. Forget leaning in – Joyce Manor have gone completely head over heels here. Fitting when you think about it, really.

78. Fiddlehead – Lay Low

A lot of hardcore kids never got over Have Heart breaking up, and fair enough too. Consider this, though: Have Heart died to so that Fiddlehead could live. There is an urgency and vitality to what this supergroup of sorts are doing, packing short and punchy songs full of throat-tearing hooks and emotive lyrical pleas straight from the heart. Of all the tracks that compose their debut LP, “Lay Low” is the pick of the litter. It comes out swinging from its opening chords and refuses to relent until you’ve felt everything there is to feel. The sun has risen.

77. Silk City feat. Dua Lipa – Electricity

There are two mayors in Silk City – super-producers Diplo and Mark Ronson. As it turns out, this town is big enough for the two of them – and just as well, considering they’ve also invited a friend in rule-setting pop sensation Dua Lipa. Her high-energy joy matches up perfectly with Ronson’s retro piano stabs and Diplo’s insistent handclaps, leading to a chorus that would be envied by anyone from HAIM to Miley and back again. This is house music on such a mammoth scale that it’s bound to wake up the neighbours. And if they don’t like it? IDGAF.

76. BROCKHAMPTON – SAN MARCOS

If you’re angling BROCKHAMPTON as a boy-band, then “SAN MARCOS” is the ballad performed on the B-stage in the arena, sitting on stools. That’s figuratively what they did when they performed this centrepiece of their fourth album for Like a Version on their eventful Australian tour – which, coincidentally, is also where the music video was filmed. It’s one of the group’s most heartfelt, introspective songs to date, showcasing both a maturity and a vulnerability within their creative spectrum. There may not be a more resonant refrain from the year passed than “I want more out of life than this.”

75. Cloud Nothings – Leave Him Now

“Leave Him Now” is a song about a troubled straight relationship in which the female party is advised to remove herself from it. The twist is: That’s it. Dylan Baldi is not putting himself forward as the substitute. This isn’t a “drop the zero and get with the hero” scenario. This is about a genuine concern for a woman’s wellbeing and stability. It takes a trope of songwriting across multiple genres and decades and subsequently turns it on its head. If that wasn’t enough, it’s also one of the catchiest songs Baldi and co. have ever written. How about that.

74. The Hard Aches – Mess

Here’s what you need to know: “Mess” is the first song on the album Mess. The word “mess” is the fourth word you hear on the entire album, and it’s repeated over a dozen times throughout. It’s a unifying theme for an album that’s ostensibly about everything falling apart. Lest we forget, this is not a new place for them – existentially, at least. They’ve been here before and they’ll be here again. So, they sing over big chords and swinging drums: “We’re not burning out.” It’s defiant. It’s purposeful. It’s resolute. Truth be told, they’ve never been more believable.

73. Basement – Stigmata

Basement have found themselves associated with a few different movements and scenes, such is the versatile nature of their music. They’re flagged for emo-revivalists while simultaneously being added to pop-punk playlists. What a song like “Stigmata” showcases, however, is what they’re capable of at their crux: An alternative rock band. A damn fine one, too. A callback to when it was a good thing to be. A time of Jerry Cantrell harmonies, Pixies dynamics and snares that hit like they’re being played next to your eardrum. The genre is unquestionably in good hands – even with gaping holes in them.


72. Confidence Man – Don’t You Know I’m in a Band

How did a semi-anonymous disco band fronted by a classic pervert and a Lolita become one of Australia’s biggest live acts? It’s all in the name: Confidence Man put themselves forward and danced like there was no-one watching, and kept doing so even as those watching amassed into thousands. NPR’s Bob Boilen once described them as “perfectly goofy,” and there’s truth to that – but it’s not the whole story. A song like “Band” is an acute takedown of the rockstar lifestyle, while also serving up a better chorus than any wannabe could dream of. They have confidence in them.

71. East Brunswick All Girls Choir – Essendon 1986

It’s funny that East Brunswick’s debut album was called Seven Drummers – when “Essendon 1986” kicks off in earnest, that’s exactly what it sounds like. Jen Sholakis is the central focus of this spiralling, seething number, her toms rumbling the earth beneath her as her bandmates carve into their respective stringed instruments. The band has never sounded this dark, this aggressive or this forthright – and it’s this immediate shift that ends up paying off to create their finest singular moment to date. A fading, sepia portrayal of restless outward Australia that, truthfully, couldn’t have come from any other band.

70. David Byrne – Everybody’s Coming to My House

The erstwhile Talking Heads frontman was behind one of the year’s most critically-acclaimed and beloved live tours, bringing a barefoot ensemble of untethered musicians onto stages across the world with a celebratory, career-spanning setlist. The tour took place on the back of what surprisingly ended up being one of the year’s more overlooked LPs in American Utopia, Byrne’s first proper solo endeavour in years. “House” was its lead single, and is filled with a classic sense of Byrnian paranoia and unease while simultaneously peppering in a sizzling horn section and head-voice, Sampha-assisted melodies. Long may the grand Byrne spectacle continue.

69. Parquet Courts – Wide Awake

“Is anybody sleepy?” a voice sarcastically quips before the gang vocals of “Wide Awake”’s second verse boldly answer back with the titular phrase. This sardonic easter egg is a reflection on Parquet Courts as a whole – they do what they do primarily with a knowing wink, playing up their surrounds while also maintaining a deadpan. “Wide Awake” is one of their most uncharacteristic songs to date – a percussive funk procession with double-dutch chants and a literal layer of bells & whistles. They even scored “fluke indie hit” bingo by playing the damn thing on Ellen – go figure.

68. Courtney Barnett – Charity

Courtney Barnett can turn on a dime – or a 20-cent piece, depending on what part of the world she’s touring in at the time. Take the huge chorus of Tell Me How You Really Feel‘s rocking final single as a prime example: Figuratively seconds after singing the phrase “Everything’s amazing” in three-part harmony, she delivers one of the year’s most brutal lines in “So subservient/I make myself sick.” It’s so subtle that you don’t even notice the first listen, but by the time you do you’re looking at a far bigger picture. Here, Barnett is seeking a deeper connection.

67. Baker Boy – Mr. La Di Da Di

Three years prior to “Mr. La Di Da Di,” a certain voice heard in a certain song asked the age-old question: Now, if I give you the funk, you gon’ take it? Not only did Baker Boy take it, he let it possess his entire being. No, “La Di Da Di” wouldn’t exist without “King Kunta” – but that wouldn’t exist without George Clinton, which wouldn’t exist without James Brown, and so on and so forth. Radiating pure positivity, Baker Boy is the latest in a long line of exceptional artists that are black and proud. Say it loud, y’all.

66. Ball Park Music – Hands Off My Body

It doesn’t get much more wholesome, family-friendly and generally PG than Brisbane’s Ball Park Music. Not to say they’re bland or uninspired, mind you – just good clean fun. What happens, then, when they promptly go off the rails? Vocalist Sam Cromack is a man possessed on this single from the band’s fifth album, propelled by an atonal keyboard blip and a persistent breakbeat as he goes around chopping body parts off. It’s easily the band’s most gruesome and dissonant song to date – and yet, in classic Ball Park fashion, it’s a certified festival killer. Everybody do the chop-chop!

65. Wafia – I’m Good

For a few years, break-up songs well and truly got Adele’d. They were all saccharine, mopey and downright depressing – a cheap imitation of “Someone Like You” done by, well, someone like her. With “I’m Good,” we’re making an earnest return to the celebratory end of a shitty relationship – it basically sounds like the audio equivalent of walking away from an explosion without looking at it. The song drips with effortless cool – its wafting synth bass and four-on-the-floor strut give it a “Stayin’ Alive” swagger, while Wafia herself breathily kisses off her shitty ex. “I’m Good”? Damn right.

64. Vacations – Steady

True to their name, Vacations sound like they’re playing live and direct from where you want to be – which is pretty funny when you find out they’re from Newcastle. All joking aside, the quartet are locked square into the tone-zone – summery guitar reverb, warm bass, roomy drums and some lush harmonies to boot. “Steady” might be the song where they most singularly nail it across the board – a bashful, honest love song filled with hazy chord inversions and an instantly-memorable refrain. Indie didn’t get a whole lot more charming in 2018 than Vacations – Australian or otherwise.

63. E^ST – I Don’t Lack Imagination

Melisa Bester isn’t the kind to mince words. Hell, she named her EP Life Ain’t Always Roses, which is about as blunt and unapologetic a phrase as you can get. “Imagination” from said EP is surrounded by – ahem – flowery production and slinky rnb melodies. The lyrics, dissecting an impervious relationship dichotomy, still manage to cut through across a slim three-minute runtime. That – and, by extension, the song itself – deserves considerable credit. Pop fans were once told to go west – either by kings or boys. Now, the future is female – and the future is E^ST.

62. The Presets – Downtown Shutdown

Among the issues Australia has faced since The Presets last put out an album are human rights crises facing asylum seekers and the swift closure of pubs and venues across Sydney. On “Downtown,” Julian Hamilton and Kim Moyes decided to kill two birds with one stone (sorry, PETA) by addressing both head-on in a parade of slap-bass, pogo-bounce grooves and skittish electronics. The titular phrase is an obvious allusion to the restricted nightlife of Sydney, but the refrain is chanted by St. Paul’s Lutheran Church Choir – which is primarily made up of African immigrants. Consider the man stuck to.

61. Charli XCX feat. Troye Sivan – 1999

“Does anyone remember how we did it back then?” asks Charli XCX halfway through “1999,” seemingly to no-one in particular. Hey, Charli, do you? Lest we forget our heroine was all but seven years old in the titular year – and her sidekick for this song turned four. It’s a gripe, sure, but it’s a small con up against a long, long list of pros. Among those are Oscar Holter’s throwback beat, the hammered-home chorus and what ended up being one of the year’s best music videos. They mightn’t actually remember 1999, but they’ve made sure we’ll never forget “1999.”

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That’s it for now! You can stream all 40 songs so far via the Spotify playlist below:

You’re Not Punk, And I’m Telling Everyone: On Joyce Manor And Thinking Before You Jump

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Photo credit: Kayla Surico.

Being a relatively minor issue that the particularly-petty greater online punk/hardcore community were collectively up in arms about, I figured that people would have led their torches and pitchforks away from Californian pop-punk/rock band Joyce Manor by the end of the week. Unfortunately, however, it does not appear to be an issue that’s going to go away anytime soon – and that says far more about Joyce Manor’s attackers than the band itself.

To provide context to those new to the issue, the band recently played a show at the 1904 Music Hall in Jacksonville, Florida. During the band’s first song, “Heart Tattoo,” a fan got onto stage and dove back into the crowd. It’s been noted from footage from a different camera angle that he was stage-diving onto a group of young teenage fans. At this point, the band’s vocalist/guitarist Barry Johnson cut the song short and pulled the guy back onto stage. The following description of what followed comes from TheMusic.com.au’s news department:

“Hey man, how tall are you?” Johnson asked the stage-diver. “How much do you weigh, if you don’t mind me asking?” Upon being told he weighs about 190 pounds (86 kilograms), Johnson turns to a girl in the audience: “How much do you weigh? Sorry, that’s really rude. You’re much smaller than him, right? It’s completely unacceptable for him to impose himself on top of you. Completely unacceptable, right? Under no circumstances is that acceptable? OK.” In fairness, he ended rather politely, turning to the stage diver and saying, “Please don’t do that again,” before shaking his hand and letting him off the stage.

You can clearly see the guy in question apologise to Johnson, as well as to the people that he dove on top of. That should have, in all honesty, been that. If no-one had filmed it, no-one would have cared. Then, of course, the internet did what the internet does best – get routinely offended and outraged at obscenely disproportionate levels regarding things that do not affect them. The band’s masculinity was brought into question in tweet after tweet, as well as accusations of the band being sexist (yeah, some kind of reverse sexism? Or something? I honestly couldn’t tell you). In one post on the band’s Facebook wall, I read a comment that read, from start to finish: “You guys should kill yourselves.” All of this from a simple act of looking out for the band’s fans? That ended with a ‘please’ and a handshake? How very internet.

Stage-diving has been a part of the heavier spectrum of music for decades, and it remains a prominent aspect within it. But that’s just the thing – its context is weighted towards music far more aggressive and abrasive than that of Joyce Manor’s. When Scott Vogel, the lead singer of hardcore punk band Terror, calls upon his audience to “climb on somebody’s head,” you best believe he and his band have the balls-to-the-wall heaviness to match doing something like that. The same goes for bands like Cannibal Corpse and DevilDriver, who I’ve seen call upon their audiences to go suitably mental through mediums such as circle pits and walls of death.

Before we take anything else into consideration, can we note the fact that the guy was attempting to stage dive to the song “Heart Tattoo,” which is ostensibly a four-chord pop song with a slightly quicker beat? Nothing against the song, of course, but it’s hardly the kind of song to inspire such an aggressive response. It reminds me of seeing melodic punk band Title Fight in March of 2013 and seeing people crowd-surfing and stage-diving to their song “Head in the Ceiling Fan.” For those not familiar, it’s a slow and drawn-out track that takes influence from bands like Low and Dinosaur Jr. I couldn’t believe my eyes.

What I’m trying to say here is that there is a time and a place for this kind of behaviour. There are also the right bands and the right songs for this kind of behaviour. Joyce Manor, even at their heaviest, really aren’t one of them – and, at the very least, it’s been made exceptionally clear that they no longer want to be one. The band’s detractors pulling up footage of people stage-diving at their shows from years ago have gone considerably out of their way to miss the point. What happened in Jacksonville was purely contextual – one might even argue, after reading Johnson’s tweets in the wake of the backlash, that it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“So far on this tour I’ve seen a girl with a black eye, a girl with a concussion, and a girl with a dislocated knee,” he tweeted, before following it up with a powerfully resonant statement: “Great way to make young women feel safe at a show when the rest of the fucking world is hostile towards them already.”

This provides further context to the events of the Jacksonville show, and even adds in a feminist subtext to Johnson’s actions. Despite Joyce Manor’s corner of the rock music spectrum often being male-dominated – both on and off stage – women and girls are still a noted and important part of the demographic. Under no circumstances should they be told where to stand or how to respond to aggressive behaviour at a show. The fact that I still go to so many hardcore and punk shows where women and girls are treated as cloakrooms is deeply upsetting.

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At this juncture, you may be wondering what my role in the whole affair is. The truth is that I’ve been in the exact same position as the Joyce Manor stage-diver.

In 2013, I was at a show headlined by The Smith Street Band, a fantastic band from Melbourne who you should definitely be familiar with if you’re not already. I went to stage-dive during the song “I Want Friends,” and was stopped by the band’s lead guitarist, Lee. I leapt off stage, the band finished the song and then Lee spoke into the mic to call out my actions.

“Don’t do that, dude,” he said to me. “I know that you’re a good guy and you always come to our shows, but please don’t do anything dangerous.” I had not thought about it this way at all, and was originally quite hurt and embarrased by this. I spent the rest of the night in an incredibly unhappy state, and cried myself to sleep that night. You might think that’s an expression – it’s not. To rub it in even further, I was linked to a tweet from someone else that was at the show that read “Fuck David James Young” – I won’t link it, but that person knows who they are.

‘What had I done wrong?’ I thought. ‘What did I do to upset this band I love so much?’

After awhile, I recontextualised the situation. Much like the Joyce Manor stage-diver, I am quite a big guy – I’m roughly six-foot and around 300 pounds. I also thought I was diving back onto my friends in attendance, yet I later realised that there were also some much smaller people near where they were and they could well have been hurt in the situation, as well. When I later spoke to Lee himself several months later and apologised profusely for my actions, he was incredibly understanding and the hatchet was buried. I still go to as many Smith Street shows as I can, and I count the four members of the band as friends. I could have wrecked all of that, however, with my reckless and fleeting actions.

Photo credit: showburner Photography.

That’s why I want people to think before they jump – figuratively. In no way am I saying that shows shouldn’t get crazy and that everyone should simply stand around and politely golf-clap at the end of each song. If that’s honestly what you get out of this blog post, and what you got out of Joyce Manor’s actions, then I simply cannot help you. This isn’t a matter of what’s going to get the band more credibility or scene points from people they would have never wanted as fans to begin with. This is a matter of readjusting one’s view to see the bigger picture.

What I’m saying is that the situation should be completely and properly assessed. Respect your surroundings and take note of the time and place. Moreover, have some respect for what the artist asks of you. When Neutral Milk Hotel began their reunion tour last year, they requested a strict ban on photography and filming of the shows. A couple of years back, Rufus Wainwright asked his audiences to refrain from applauding until the first part of the show had sequentially passed. Their audiences thankfully chose to keep their recording devices in their pockets and their hands apart, respectively.

Why can’t the same be observed for a band like Joyce Manor? Because it’s not ‘punk’ to follow a request? A comparison to a Neutral Milk Hotel audience may well be apples and oranges, but it’s still the idea of not bruising your fruit. Any audience member that clearly wants to defy the completely-reasonable requests of the acts they go to see are, to be blunt, petulant children that cannot handle being told no; as Johnson put it during a similar incident following the Jacksonville show.

Above everything else, the core lesson to take away from this is to simply make sure you’re taking care of the people that are there for the exact same reason as you – to watch and enjoy the music. If that’s not why you’re there, take a look for that big green sign with the most important four-letter word you may ever read: EXIT.

I will leave you with some words from Barry himself, recently posted on the band’s Facebook page. His sentiment is hard to disagree with.

I wasn’t able to watch people being hurt so I asked people not to act in the way that was hurting people. If that means you don’t support the band, I respect that. If you don’t want to attend the shows, we respect that. If you’ve bought a ticket to the show and want your money back because you want that to be your experience, we will refund you. I don’t have an issue with anyone’s lifestyle. I apologize to [sic] losing my cool in Houston. I saw someone whose full intention was to harm people and was upset. I look forward to playing music in a safe environment for everyone from here on out.

I put it to you that if you’re not a Joyce Manor fan now, you never were.

NB: I have pre-emptively disabled comments because a) Fuck comments; and b) I can’t handle another witch-hunt after my Justin Bieber editorial. If you would like to contact me regarding this piece, please drop me a line at davidjamesyoungwrites@gmail.com – I’ll see you there. – DJY