American Football - American Football

I listen to lots of music. Tons of music. All the time I surround myself with it. My every workday is soundtracked by the thousands of songs on my ancient iPod, every car ride defined by whatever album is spinning in my CD player. My tastes cross over almost every genre, and so it is rare that I am completely floored by a new song, nevermind an entire album. But from the very moment I decided to explore the newly-remastered, self-titled record by American Football, I was knocked off my feet by the completely original sound and the overwhelming human presence that each song encapsulates. 

Although considered to be a seminal record of 90’s emo, the sound of American Football far surpasses any genre label that tries to encompass it. Short of some almost-distorted chords in the coda of “Honestly,” there is hardly any edge to the record at all; Mike Kinsella and Steve Holmes focus on tangling their guitar parts together, skipping through jangly and gentle melodies that work in perfect unison. Similarly, drummer Steve Lamos’ beats move like a lazy river, driven by jazz sensibility with nary a crash cymbal to be found. Interaction is the focus of each piece, all three musicians coalescing into harmonious compositions that are utterly pleasing and wholly exciting to the ear. 

Although the energy of the record is somewhat lackadaisical, there is no apathy to be found; in fact, American Football spends more time than most assembling intricate pieces of music. The record abounds with time signature changes: “But the Regrets are Killing Me” wavers constantly between 4/4 and 9/8, while the band flaunts in 5/4 in “You Know I Should Be Leaving Soon” and 7/4 in “The Summer Ends.” To make matters more complex, apparently each song features a completely different guitar tuning, because according to Kinsella, “no two songs [are] in the same key.” Despite this convoluted nature of the compositions, there is no pretention in any of the songs; each piece breathes with its own life, existing as it is without trying to prove itself. American Football’s three musicians move effortlessly through their technical tunes, yet they manage without effort to wring true human emotion from each and every note, drenching their sound with their souls. 

One of the best examples of American Football’s synthesis of prodigious musicianship and honest expression is the de facto closer to the record, “Stay Home.” At just over eight minutes, this sprawl of a song features all three band members playing in different time signatures “that sync up every so often.” The music is focused only on the idea of possibility; each repeat links differently with another part, creating a sonic orbit of sorts that only returns to the beginning after a lengthy journey. With “Stay Home,” the band isn’t trying to impress anyone with their skills, monster though they may be—in fact, they’re not trying to do anything at all, instead standing back and letting their song evolve as it sees fit. “Stay Home” is neither a performance nor an exercise, just a few friends teasing their instruments in and out of beautiful synchronicity. 

The instrumentation of American Football is the focal point of human emotion; the “feeling” of the songs stems heavily from the guitars and percussion, and as such, the vocals and lyrics provide more accent than content. Kinsella’s gentle crooning refuses to take the spotlight, but instead fades in and out of the songs, applying context to the instrumentation without truly defining it. As Kinsella relates, most of the lyrics were written “on the spot” or pulled from a journal of his teenage years. Indeed, the band was so focused on the work of their instruments that both Steves were unaware of most vocal melodies until the band performed live. 

Much of the writing is very general, but just as with the instrumentation, there is no lack of feeling in the words, and Kinsella certainly does not waste them. In “Honestly,” he weaves beauty and poignancy into the opening verse “I can’t remember teen dreams / all my teenage feelings and their meanings / they seem too see-through to be true,” while in “I’ll See You When We’re Both Not So Emotional” he is both gentle and scathing: “If you’re still prone to accidents and misunderstandings / You won’t understand me.” The sparse and unassuming vocals add context to the vivid instrumentation, placing a human frame around each piece to further the emotion without dominating the song. 

   

According to Kinsella, the focus of American Football was always “the interplay between the guitars,” and ostensibly, the instrumentation is far more prioritized than the lyrics—hence the two instrumentals, one of which is simply named for the odd instrument used in it. However, when there are words to be had, the band melds them with music in wondrous ways, and no more so than in the opening track “Never Meant.” Holmes and Kinsella create a complex web of guitar work that is stunning yet dolorous, while Lamos taps out a gentle beat laden with syncopation. 

The music is hauntingly beautiful, but Kinsella’s melancholy vocal really nails the sentiment home by giving the sadness a background. In a voice both detached and mournful, he tells his ex-lover to forget “everything said / and everything we did / best friends and better halves.” Emotion bleeds through the speakers as his vocals merge with the music as he states “you can’t miss what you forget” before imploring “let’s just pretend everything and anything between you and me was never meant.” Between the sparkling guitars and Kinsella’s fearsome lyrical statements, “Never Meant” has been proclaimed by the band as a “good representation” of their sound and feeling, and from false start to the final fade, it hits me just as hard as my first broken heart. 

With its incredible synesthesia of instrumentation and humanity, American Football is truly a wonder, yet what is more unbelievable is its striking lack of conceit. As Kinsella relates, the record “was literally the last thing” recorded before college ended, and that “we knew we were going to break up” before recording was even finished. For American Football, their eponymous LP is simply a collection of feelings and thoughts from their college days, created for no one but themselves. That honesty rings loudly in each of their 9 songs, and it is no wonder this record has since been held in such high regard. American Football captures with powerful clarity the cadence of the human soul, and I have no doubt I will be stuck on this record for years to come.   

Tunes to Check Out:
1) Never Meant
2) I'll See You When We're Both Not So Emotional
3) But the Regrets Are Killing Me