Friday, March 20, 2020 — 6
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com

It’s hard to assess an album right now 

without the clutter and confusion of this 

unsure time seeping into the impression 

and coloring the music with something 

that wasn’t there to begin with. But the 

lyrics and sweeping orchestration of indie-

pop band Circa Waves’s newest album 

Sad Happy is founded on that sense of 

confusion — the perpetual millennial and 

Gen-Z condition of 

having one foot in 

a happy place and 

another 
ready 
to 

fall into the void at 

a moment’s notice. 

For an age group who 

has 
been 
through 

multiple recessions, 

an 
aimless 

administration 
and 

now 
a 
worldwide 

pandemic before the 

age of 30, we’ve never 

expected 
stability. 

This year seems to 

be 
another 
crazy 

obstacle in a line of 

them; it is surely the most intense we’ve 

faced, but it isn’t the last. 

There is no way Circa Waves could have 

known this would happen, but this record 

was made in less than a year after their 

April 2019 full-length release, What’s It 

Like Over There?, and the feelings are 

fresh. The past year has been a rollercoaster 

of emotion, leading some to christen 2020 

as the year we’d get it all back together, but 

it seems this has fallen through in many 

ways. However, hope still lingers alongside 

the sadness of the present, which is the 

driving essence of Sad Happy. Circa Waves 

built the album in two parts, releasing the 

first side, Happy, in January, and the full 

version this past Friday. Though we are all 

subject to the automatic shuffle function 

in this day and age, I’d say it’s important 

to take this one side by side, or at least 

in order. The group has obviously put a 

concerted effort into separating the Happy 

and Sad sides by mood while maintaining 

a continuous thread of emotional turmoil 

throughout. 

The separation between each side isn’t 

stark, but rather weaves the same base 

level of yearning into different methods 

of coping. The Happy half is a perfect 

soundtrack for when you feel confused or 

lost and the only option seems to be getting 

drunk and running wild in the streets. It’s 

a fractured happiness — not butterflies 

and rainbows and car commercials, but 

dancing alone in clubs, wondering why 

you’re there in the first place. First single 

and record opener 

“Jacqueline” 
thuds 

on with a shuffling 

guitar 
riff 
and 

energetic vocals from 

frontman 
Kieran 

Shudall, establishing 

the group’s familiar 

brand 
of 
pop/rock 

fusion from the very 

first note. The songs 

on the first half of the 

record have been in 

the world for months, 

settling 
into 
their 

listener’s ears with 

its mix of unease 

and an f-the-world 

mentality that suits Circa Waves’s style so 

perfectly. 

“Sad Happy,” the introduction to the 

record’s second half, is arguably the 

standout of the entire effort. It soothes 

while energizing, the bubbling synths of 

the chorus supporting each languid verse. 

The song, and Circa Waves’ discography 

up to this point, is marked by a mesh of the 

British indie rock sound familiar to groups 

like Arctic Monkeys and the embrace of 

digital production similar to Two Door 

Cinema Club. Listening to Sad Happy 

feels like listening to the “British Indie” 

Pandora radio station in 2013, but with a 

twist of sadness that could only be native 

to this time and place. It’s that mix of both 

nostalgia and bitingly fresh insight which 

makes this double album so interesting to 

listen to during such a confusing period, as 

the whirlwind of narrative and sound takes 

each listener on a ride through everything 

they are able to feel. 

The confusion of young 
adult life on ‘Sad Happy’

CLARA SCOTT
Daily Arts Writer

I find it hard to avoid burnout when it 

comes to my own passions and hobbies. 

Food is one of those passions that fell to 

the burnout. I continuously worked in 

the kitchen during my academic career; 

handling, creating and consuming food 

were the highlights of my day in light of the 

drudgery of exams and projects compounded 

by the existential dread of “planning for my 

future.” 

Releasing a fillet of fish from its backbone 

with one smooth glide of your deba knife. 

Furiously mincing your vegetables into 

1/16 inch cuts of brunoise mirepoix that 

yield a silent nod of approval from the chef 

de cuisine. Gingerly retrieving an egg-

white raft of protein scum that threatens to 

destroy your baby of the evening — a pristine, 

transparent lobster consomme. One by one, 

these tasks lose their vibrancy and their 

appeal, reverting back to a similar drudgery 

of tasks not unlike academic work. 

Cue the year 2014. Fresh from producing 

and directing the litany of Marvel films, 

such as “The Avengers” and the “Iron Man” 

series, director/actor Jon Favreau (“The 

Mandalorian”) writes, directs, co-produces 

and stars in “Chef” — a low-budget film 

meant to parallel his own experiences within 

the film industry. His co-producer Roy Choi, 

founder of the Kogi taco trucks, initially 

serves as Favreau’s chef consultant — though 

Choi eventually is given creative freedom 

over all culinary aspects and technical details 

within the movie. When it was released, both 

critics and general audiences enjoyed the 

film. However, Favreau and Choi’s budding 

partnership seemed to reach its denouement 

after the conclusion of the film’s production.

Perhaps it’s Choi’s insistence to properly 

showcase the life of a cook in “Chef” that 

resonates with my own doldrum experiences 

of food and the kitchen. Favreau’s character, 

Carl Casper, finds his own calling within 

food after years of being trapped by 

repeatedly cooking tired, outdated cuisine. 

Though somewhat similar to my experiences, 

I found the film almost invigorating, 

though I dismissed it all the same as some 

fantasization of the kitchen experience at 

large. 

But five years later, Favreau and Choi 

teamed up for their spin-off show called 

“The Chef Show,” which Netflix describes 

as an outlet of recipe experimentation 

between the master and apprentice as they 

also collaborate with celebrities within 

the entertainment and culinary worlds. 

While the episodes match the theme of the 

movie, they are far more informal in tone; 

at separate points, Favreau and Choi both 

confirm that “The Chef Show” represents 

the continuation and maturation of the 

friendship that had stagnated after they had 

completed “Chef.” In other words, “The Chef 

Show” is the spiritual successor to “Chef” 

happening within the world — not some 

other idyllic movie fantasy.

But in spite of the many celebrities 

featured within each episode — ranging 

from movie stars including Robert Downey 

Jr. (“Dolittle”) or Tom Holland (“Onward”) 

to culinary heavyweights like Wolfgang 

Puck, Aaron Franklin and David Chang 

— “The Chef Show” focuses deeply on the 

relationship between Favreau and Choi. In 

particular, Favreau’s passion and eagerness 

to learn culinary skills and traditions 

fuels Choi’s (and other chefs’) respect and 

thus fuels their friendship. At other times, 

Choi’s pensive but engaged demeanor in 

learning about Favreau’s (and other actors 

and filmmakers’) struggles provides an 

additional depth of respect and friendship as 

Choi quietly arranges the mise en place. 

But “The Chef Show” doesn’t focus only 

on the relationship between Favreau and 

Choi. As highlighted as Favreau and Choi’s 

star-crossed friendship might be, it’s the 

expanded individual stories of the two that 

gives their friendship meaning. Favreau’s 

recounting of his claim to fame through the 

Marvel Cinematic Universe provides with 

the same conclusion as Choi’s recounting of 

his exploding popularity through the Kogi 

trucks. Both drew acclaim through hard 

work in uncharted territory — which were 

the great uncertainties and instabilities of 

the MCU and food trucks within 2008. Hard 

work and talent acknowledges hard work and 

talent — which provides much of the impetus 

and spiritual pathos of “The Chef Show.”

‘The Chef Show’ and re- 
discovering learning food

BRENDAN CHO
Daily Arts Writer

MUSIC REVIEW
TV REVIEW

Read more online at 
michigandaily.com

More unimaginative fodder for the earnest Never-Trumper

In “A Citizen’s Guide to Beating Donald Trump,” 

David Plouffe offers succinct tips for the energized 

civilian to help their favored candidate ascend the 

White House steps. Each chapter gives insight into 

the general campaign process. His book provides a 

crash course in what a campaign manager would 

want volunteers to know about how to best utilize 

their labor and the campaign’s materials. When 

reading “A Citizen’s Guide to Beating Donald 

Trump,” Plouffe’s optimism reads as genuine as 

he avoids the demoralizing rehashing of status quo 

politics. Like Plouffe, the American Democracy is 

hopeful, a promise to be fulfilled with coalitions 

and earnest votes.

However, beyond general industry insight 

and tips, Plouffe’s 2020 work is an unimaginative 

contribution to the 2020 political book selling 

season. The novel’s thinly dispersed advice 

stretches across 225 pages and offers few novel 

strategies. 

The novel opens with a play-by-play of Election 

Day 2016. In his introduction, Plouffe narrates 

the collective American shock at Donald Trump’s 

2016 win. He notes MSNBC’s somber realization 

and Fox’s surprised jubilation. Though he does not 

fully resuscitate the liberal November 2016 ethos, 

Plouffe succeeds in setting the stakes of his guide 

and asserting the possibility of a 2020 repeat. This 

direct introduction is followed by a somewhat 

patronizing yet engaging sequence of floating, 

repackaged ideas. 

Plouffe does not pontificate on the validity 

of the U.S. electoral process or explore policy 

issues. Instead Plouffe strips the election down, 

interpreting the Great American Democracy as 

a numbers game of voters and delegates. 270 to 

victory — a victory requiring effective volunteers.

In every chapter, Plouffe leans into his 2008 

and 2012 industry acumen, giving his first hand 

accounts of Obama’s stunning loss in the 2008 

New Hampshire Primary and Obama’s rousing 

concession speech. His anecdotes help bind and 

substantiate the book. However, his constant 

references to the Obama Era feels misplaced in 

2020, tinged with nostalgia for a president and 

political climate past.

For 2020, Plouffe imagines heroic volunteers 

and a winsome Obama-esque candidate. He writes 

about a repeat of Will.i.am’s rendition of an Obama 

speech and campaigns pushing volunteer apps. His 

ideas outlined are sound and conventional. The 

Bernie Sanders 2020 campaign underscored their 

“Bern” app at the candidate’s rally at the University 

of Michigan’s Diag in early March. The democratic 

nominee frontrunner also has his Team Joe App 

intended, too, to help coordinate volunteers.

Plouffe’s core message reads as follows: Given 

enthusiastic volunteers, the power and passion of 

the people will prevail. His novel, as per the title, 

envisions a broad audience — citizens unhappy 

with Donald Trump — and presumes that they are 

fired up to engage in politics publicly. His “Anti-

Trump” plan requires all discontented citizens to 

collectively rise up and “GOTV” in 2020. However, 

not a single chapter is dedicated to either convincing 

or reaffirming political involvement. 

Plouffe assumes a base level of political 

engagement in his readers. He fails to invest in 

convincing a passerby, an interested Barnes and 

Noble reader and vital 2020 voter, to become 

politically active. Perhaps, for someone as inured in 

politics and activism as Plouffe, he forgets and leaves 

behind the vast majority of Democratic votes, the 

so-called “whole-food” moms: those dissatisfied 

with the political climate yet unwilling to publicly 

speak out. What those readers require are strategies 

to get “political” without outing themselves as 

political individuals. Plouffe incorrectly assumes 

that most Americans disapprove of Trump and 

adore Obama. He harkens back to 2008 as a political 

Golden Age, forgetting that following Obama’s 

2008 blue wave was a Republican backlash, fueled 

in part by disaffected Obama voters. 

ELIZABETH YOON

Daily Arts Writer

BOOK REVIEW

“Sad Happy”

Circa Waves

Prolifica

“A Citizen’s Guide to 

Beating Donal Trump”

David Plouffe

Viking

March 3, 2020

