It’s a rare feat when a band’s
discography is 100% certified
bangers. It’s also a bit easier to
do that when a band’s only ever
released seven songs. Coming
out with its first indie rock EP A
Constant State of Ohio in 2017 as
well as follow-up tracks “Saint
Bernard 2” and “Saint Bernard
(Sam Means Remix)” a couple of
years ago, Lincoln is the “shitty
lil egotistically named band” led
by Lincoln Lutz. The artist is
credited with providing most of
the instrumentation and lyrics
for the band’s releases as well as
having “made the dog song.”
The “dog song” in question is
“Saint Bernard,” the EP’s first
track that blew up on TikTok in
2020 and gave Lincoln its current
fame. What’s funny about that
song’s popularity in particular
is how it’s an intro track that
differs
widely
in
tone
and
experimentation when compared
to the rest of the alt-rock record.
The
EP’s
focus
on
teenage
heartbreak,
religious
trauma
and all good things Midwest
emo results in four traditionally
indie rock-driven songs that are
preceded by this ominous “Saint
Bernard,” which sounds more
like a satanic sea shanty. “Saint
Bernard 2” is when Lutz “tried
to (redo ‘Saint Bernard’) in a way
that made sense to where (he is)
now,” filling the humming void of
the former track with orchestral
gospel
instrumentation
and
rewriting his vocals with a more
mature, reflective tone. This
evolving
experimentation
is
what defines the 12 wonderfully
written,
exceptionally
orchestrated and wildly diverse
tracks of Everything is Wrong.
The
album’s
title
track
introduces
lonely
yet
lovely
synth notes setting up a liminal
environment for Lutz to vocalize
his sense of things going wrong —
he hasn’t “been feeling / So good
as of late / It’s another perfect
night / to spend wide awake.”
What follows is a laundry list of
ironic, bittersweet and beautiful
oddities of modernity, ranging
from
“Words,
buzzwords,
synonyms / McMansions, Satanic
hymns” to “Waterfalls, fireflies
/ Angry laughs and happy cries.”
These all contribute to a sense of
derealization, where Lutz asks
“How do you know you’re really
awake?” The list is then repeated
as the drum beats and chords
swell into a chaotic choir until it
all fades then cuts out, and Lutz
finds he can only harmonize with
himself.
It’s a far cry from the band’s alt-
rock origins, and the rest of the
album cries out further. The A-side
of the record navigates love, God,
age, loss and art as it transitions
from pop-rock rooted tracks like
“Baby Take My Acid” (featuring
Penelope Scott) to slower jams
like “Manager’s Special,” which
still rings out with strained
vulnerability. My new favorite
is “Oh Lord Two (featuring
Pollyanna),” which uses record
and instrumental distortion to
create a sense of chaos while the
singers still find contentment
within it, concluding: “Whatever
way things turn out / Is the way
they’re supposed to be.”
The B-side starts with the
sudden addition of jazz elements
and themes of self-identity in
“Shotgun” — swung synth chords
and hi-hat taps create a more
grounded atmosphere as Lutz
dials back his energy in favor of
deeper musings, then throws
it all into a wall of drums with
droning synth notes and chords as
he laments, “They shouldn’t have
told me / To just be myself,” that
“I have to keep / Telling myself /
I still like to pretend.” The noise
dies down for a moment before
Lutz cries out amidst a chaotic
refrain: “If you want a wreck
/ Then you’ve got one / Pull
the wheel towards you / From
shotgun.” There’s an immediate
transition into “10,000 Normal
People” — more of an interlude
than an actual track — where
Lutz’s distorted voice sings about
the unique yet universal aching
experience of projecting yourself
into the modern world: “You feel
like everybody hates you / Every
day / So you need 10,000 normal
people / To love you deeply in
every way.”
While
its
themes
and
instrumentation seem to be a
hard diversion from the rest of the
album at first, “From God” comes
back to form with rock and indie
elements seemingly aimed at a
former lover but then directing
ire towards the universe itself and
its “14 billion years just to put it
all together.” Back to jazz, “Life,
the Universe and Everything”
mimics “Fly Me to the Moon”
for its intro but then returns to
the themes from the A-side and
ties the B-side’s identity crisis to
them with some of my favorite
lines: “Before you even knew my
world / Its meaning somehow
laid in you,” “I thought my dad’s
teeth were disgusting / But God
now look at me” and “So when
somebody claims to know me / It’s
hard not to ask them if they’ll bet.”
Among assertions of love, the
penultimate track, “Everything,”
poses a final question: “What is
everything?” The closing song
“Oh Lord” doesn’t answer, only
promising “God isn’t dead / But it
hasn’t been born yet,” where Lutz
fully realizes what it means to end
‘Everything’: “The part of me that
wants to die is only yearning to
transcend.”
4 — Wednesday, January 25, 2023
Arts
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
Television has something for
everyone. Whether your style
is mindless, trashy sitcoms or
massive-budget
ornate
fantasy
dramas, rest assured your hunger
will be sated. However, one genre
of TV reigns supreme: 2010s teen
dramas. It’s messy. It’s dramatic.
It’s hilarious. In the case of the
best 2010s teen drama show, it can
even be a bit scary. That’s right,
we’re going to do a much-needed
analysis of what I would call the
most iconic TV show ever: “Pretty
Little Liars.”
“Pretty Little Liars,” created
by I. Marlene King, is set in the
fictional
town
of
Rosewood,
Pennsylvania. The pilot episode,
which aired in 2010, introduces
four main characters: Spencer
Hastings
(Troian
Bellisario,
“Doula”), Aria Montgomery (Lucy
Hale, “The Hating Game”), Hanna
Marin (Ashley Benson, “Spring
Breakers”)
and
Emily
Fields
(Shay Mitchell, “You”). The four
girls are reeling from the sudden
disappearance of their fifth friend
and queen bee, Alison DiLaurentis
(Sasha Pieterse, “Inherent Vice”)
when
they
begin
to
receive
messages from a mysterious figure
named “A” who threatens to reveal
the group’s darkest secrets. For the
purposes of this analysis, I have
conducted
extensive
research
(which included rewatching some
of the highest-rated episodes and
rewatching this work of art), and
I have opted to divide elements
of the show into two categories:
brilliant and unhinged. Let’s begin
with unhinged.
The sheer length of “Pretty Little
Liars” can be considered unhinged
in itself. The show is composed
of seven seasons with roughly 25
episodes per season, amounting
to a grand total of 160 episodes.
Having
such
bloated
seasons
allowed for deeper storytelling
but also opened the door for
massive plot holes and convoluted
storylines that sometimes didn’t
make sense. Especially in early
seasons, characters saw ominous
figures in windows and possible
suspects in cars and had a run-
in with someone they thought
was “A,” but upon the grand
reveal, none of these plot points
were properly explained. When
watching this series closely, there
are clear points when the writers
weren’t sure which direction the
show would go, but maybe that’s
the point — “Pretty Little Liars”
isn’t meant to be watched closely.
Moving on to possibly the most
unhinged aspect of this show: the
relationships. “Pretty Little Liars”
aired during the rise of social
media, which meant that as the
show progressed, fans could easily
tune in and voice their opinions on
Twitter or Instagram. In an effort
to keep fans happy, King had every
incentive to deviate from the books
on which the series was based in
order to maintain the fan favorite
“ships.” Were these “ships” worth
keeping around?
Let’s take a look at one of the
show’s most hyped couples: Aria
and Ezra (Ian Harding, “Pale
Blue), “ship” name “Ezria.” When
you get a glimpse of Hale and
Harding together at the beginning
of the show, there seem to be no
issues. Hale and Harding have
great on-screen chemistry and
the tension is palpable. All’s
well until you realize that in the
pilot episode, Hale was playing
a 16-year-old sophomore in high
school, and Harding was playing
her 23-year-old English teacher.
Don’t clutch your pearls just yet,
because “Ezria” is not the show’s
only disturbing couple.
Throughout the series, viewers
were introduced to far too many
questionable
affairs:
16-year-
old
Spencer
with
23-year-old
Wren
(Julian
Morris,
“New
Girl”), 14-year-old Alison with
23-year-old Ian (Ryan Merriman,
“Backwoods”)
and
too
many
more. If you’re anything like me,
you didn’t pay much attention
to the awful age gaps in these
relationships until after the first
viewing, an example of a problem
notorious in teen dramas —
casting. Hale, Mitchell, Bellisario
and Benson were without a doubt
the best at playing their respective
characters, but it was unbelievable
to have them playing 16-year-olds
when they were as old as 24. When
these women were paired with
actors their age, the couples are
unassuming and even attractive
together. But take into account the
characters’ ages and you quickly
realize that Ezra should not have
been allowed to walk around like
this amongst his students; he
should have been in jail. The issue
of 25-year-olds playing 16-year-
olds who act like 30-year-olds is
prevalent in other popular teen
dramas like “Gossip Girl,” an issue
made worse when you consider
the audience of these shows was
when they were first airing. I
was 12 when I started watching
“Pretty Little Liars,” as were most
of my friends. To be told that high
schoolers looked like the people
in “Pretty Little Liars” and that
an ongoing relationship with your
English teacher was totally cool is
nothing short of unhinged.
Now, we move into the brilliant
category. Some things listed here
can also fall under the “unhinged”
section, but let’s be honest — the
most brilliant aspects of 2010s TV
are always unhinged. Let’s begin
with the characters. If we ignore
their canonical ages discussed
earlier, the actual personalities and
behaviors of most of the series’s
main characters are the definition
of brilliant. More specifically, the
“villain” characters are what make
“Pretty Little Liars.” Some of the
best-written characters are also
the most diabolical in this show,
which is what makes you want
to laugh, scream and cover your
eyes all at the same time. Take, for
example, Jenna Marshall (Tammin
Sursok, “Rules of Engagement”)
and Melissa Hastings (Torrey
DeVitto, “Chicago Med”). Jenna
was a victim of one of Alison’s
maniacal pranks, which caused
her to lose her vision, and she
will stop at nothing to get her
revenge — including having an
affair with a cop to frame the girls
for murder (add this to the list of
disturbing relationships). Melissa
is Spencer’s older sister and makes
it abundantly clear that she is
not only the smartest person in
Rosewood, but she’s also not above
threatening her own family to get
what she wants.
Both Jenna and Melissa (along
with a horde of other Rosewood
residents) are suspected of being
“A” at points throughout the show,
but this list of wonderful villains
wouldn’t be complete without
the girl who actually was “A” in
the first two seasons — Mona
Vanderwaal (Janel Parrish, “To
All the Boys I’ve Loved Before”).
Now, Mona is a capital “T” threat.
Over the course of the first two
seasons, she hit Hanna with a car,
poisoned Emily, sent Spencer to
the sanitarium and threatened to
reveal Aria’s family secrets. And
she looked good doing it. What
makes
characters
like
Jenna,
Melissa and Mona brilliant is
just how messy they are. There is
absolutely no end to their obsession
with “the game,” and they will stop
at nothing to win it. It makes for
good storytelling, and it brings us
historic artifacts like these.
It is an oddly warm December
night and I’m sitting at the dinner
table, indulging in my mom’s
delicious homemade cuisine after
a semester of consuming dining
hall food. Conversations full of
catching up and recounting stories
about my first semester in college
complement the evening’s entrées.
All of a sudden, my phone screen
lights up. What I think will be an
iMessage or Instagram notification
that I can tend to later is soon
revealed as a notification from my
most used — yet most despised —
mobile
application:
Goodreads.
And so, the notification, which
redirects me to my 2022 reading
wrap-up, becomes a matter I must
immediately address.
It’s accurate to compare my
relationship with Goodreads to
a toxic romantic relationship. No
matter how much harm it causes me,
I keep going back. Year after year, I
resentfully log every single book
I read onto the mobile Goodreads
app on my phone and update my 30
Goodreads friends every 100 pages
until I’m finished reading, and so
progresses the vicious cycle I am
unable to break.
Ever
since
I
downloaded
Goodreads, every page turned
has become a small step closer to
completing my yearly reading goal.
Keeping track of my reading is now
a quantifiable task instead of an
entertaining hobby. It has also made
me extremely self-conscious of the
books I enjoy reading, given that
people can actively see the media
I consume and silently judge me
based on it. I’m hyper-aware of this,
yet I refuse to delete Goodreads
from my phone. I’m addicted to it.
Goodreads seems to have me in a
chokehold I can’t break out of.
I think my toxic relationship with
Goodreads really began in 2021.
Sure, I’d been using the app since
2020, but with the new year came
the resolution to read 50 books, a
resolution I had to complete. I was
so determined that I went 10 books
over my goal, reading 60 books
total in 2021. I’m not saying that
reading a lot of books is unhealthy
— on the contrary, it has been
scientifically proven that reading
has many benefits for both physical
and mental health. But when 2022
came around and I reflected on my
favorite books of 2021, I realized
that I barely remembered anything
from the books I’d read throughout
the year. I had to admit to myself
that most of the reading I had done
was solely to complete my reading
goal and show off my ability to
read at a superhuman rate. The
practical solution to this was to
foster more timely reading habits.
Unfortunately, the desired outcome
was not achieved.
The result of my 2021 reading
spree? The second-worst reading
slump I’ve ever experienced. It
arrived at the start of 2022. I set
my reading goal for the year for
60 books, certain I could fulfill it.
I mean, I’d done it once already,
right? Who’s to say I couldn’t do it
again?
‘Pretty Little Liars’ was more than just a cringey teen drama
GRACIELA BATLLE CESTERO
Daily Arts Writer
Design by Evelyne Lee
I’m in a toxic relationship with Goodreads
Lincoln’s debut album ‘Everything is Wrong’ does nearly everything right
This image is from the official cover for “Everything is Wrong.”
SWARA RAMASWAMY
Daily Arts Writer
SAARTHAK JOHRI
Digital Culture Beat Editor
Design by Serena Shen
Read more at MichiganDaily.com
Read more at MichiganDaily.com
Read more at MichiganDaily.com