Most of the shows we booked in New York were a team effort between me and Jim from Something Bitter. We would regularly catch up over a beer, and talk about the bands we love – the bands we wished would play New York.
The Carolyn was one of those bands that kept coming up in conversation, and after a year of trying, we finally got them over in 2024. Thinking we got exactly what we wanted, Something Bitter got offered a show they couldn’t refuse, and Jim couldn’t even make the show. Since then I’ve seen the Carolyn multiple times, across different countries, while Jim has been patiently waiting for his chance.
With the release of a new record around the same time as their friends in Tired Radio, both bands have set aside an October weekend to return to the Northeast. For their New York date, they invited Something Bitter on the line-up. Though I left New York a while ago, nothing makes me happier than seeing friends get together like that, and after all the conversations we had about the Carolyn, having Jim not just finally see them, but having those boys in Something Bitter finally get their chance to play a show with them – the way we hoped would happen a year and a half ago, brings out that big grin.
[Editor’s note: This intro was written a month ago, I decided to keep it as is, because a rewrite would become a show review. Sorry all! There’s one thing better than being happy for people from a distance: being happy for them in person. It was a really, really good show.]
With Pyramid Schemes of Grief, it feels like the Carolyn has established their sound. They rounded out their rough edges, and created a record they should be proud of.
Starting off, at just over a minute long, is 75mg Prologue. On its own, it feels quite weak, and makes me wonder why they decided to release it as a single earlier in the year. As a record opener though? It sets the tone for the record, short and to the point, with a wistfulness that feels reminiscent of their hometown friends in New Junk City.
“I suffer on the weekday and lose my sense of self.”
Some bands have guest vocals. The Carolyn has a guest cellist. Ian, better known as the Punk Cellist, lends his skills to two songs on the record. White Russians starts off with the things I love best, vocal lines standing on their own, before letting the full band kick in. Wistful, again, feels like the right way to describe the atmosphere – not sad, but a wish for things to be better. The last line almost carries anger behind it, to be drowned away by Ian’s cello.
“A non-event forever, a deafening decree. It makes more sense than ever now to suffer quietly.”
The Carolyn, like Tired Radio – whose singer, Anthony Truzzolino – delivers his vocals to this song, live on the fine line between melodic punk and emo. On …And the Infinite Void, the Carolyn shows off the former. I’m kind of spotting the Lawrence Arms as an influence. It’s one of the faster, more in-your-face songs the record has to offer.
“I just wanna go back home, binge-watch ‘Intervention’ and silence my phone.”
The beauty of that fine line between melodic punk and emo shines in Nosebleeds. Yes, it’s an emo song. Yes, it’s got melodies for days. From the clear guitars in the verse, to the chorus kicking it off. Who doesn’t relate to lines such as “cast curses on the workweek”?
“Bottles piled deep and lost in the weeds, wondering why we constantly covet sleep in our midnight daydreams.”
I’ve skipped I Wish You Were Dead on pretty much every listen of this record. I had been enjoying some louder music over the summer, and on this song, the Carolyn seems to almost fall into shoegaze territory. It’s the production, likely. When it came on during editing this review, I was wondering why I had my music on shuffle, and which Jimmy Eat World song just got put on. In the earlier draft, I wrote that if you take away the shoegazey parts, this song is surprisingly reminiscent of Dashboard Confessional, both bands I’ve been enjoying a lot recently. Take from that what you will.
“We bathed in violent floods of ethanol and tainted blood, but I’ll soon forget each lie we lived.”
Moving on to Katie Arson, the Carolyn seems to want to show me that they’ve still got some more energy in their arsenal. They’re also rounding out their all-star guests with Christine Atturio from Little Low. It’s one of the longer songs on this album, at just under two and a half minutes, and one that grows stronger on repeated listens. I’m not quite sure if the twenty seconds of instrumentals with muttering vocals add or detract from the song, changing my mind every time I hear it.
“Midsommar night’s dream with no guarantee, I took the money.”
Let me mention Tired Radio again, because intro of Routines could have been on the latest Tired Radio record. It’s one of the songs where the sound doesn’t get lost behind too many effects and fuzziness – which, to me, tends to make for better songs. If you are like anyone else, and once experienced a fallout with an ex, friend, or not-relationship, this song has a few lines that hit close to home. “Just this week I hit last year’s quota of exercise routines” is one to both laugh and cry at, willing the feelings away by staying on the move.
“I know you’d rather will me away than let me stay, I can see it in the fault lines you left behind, in the emotional earthquakes that you shake off all the time. I should’ve never let you wait for me to ruin everything.”
If you want to get your friend who goes to When We Were Young into the Carolyn, I would start off with Hostile Manana. There is almost a Sum 41 vibe behind it. It’s a short one, around the same length as 75mg Prologue, but one that stands really well on its own and wouldn’t make a great opener. Hey, short songs have their places!
“Teary eyed we said our goodbyes and there was so much relief in knowing that I no longer had to try.”
I have a love-hate relationship with Faded in Roku City. It’s also a very one-sided relationship, because songs never love me back. On one hand, this is the closest the Carolyn gets to what I wish they’d sound like. On the other hand, there is way too much in it that’s reminiscent of Jeff Rosenstock and Pup, and that sound is so incredibly boring and overdone. It’s a good song, and it may just not be for me.
“Restored the beating, we fixed our broken hearts. We rhyme and reason, we always fall apart.”
I really want to like DOAD. I really do, but the vocals feel buried, and I wonder if this is where they realize they really like their Midwest emo. The worst part is that behind the production I cannot get past, there is a good song hidden.
“I found comfort in the commotion; your touch made me feel less diseased.”
Last up is Remember Damage. An odd duck out, it starts, feels drenched with nostalgia, and then it’s over. It’s the introvert of closers, waving at the room while sneaking out the door.
“You can’t see it in my face, but I’m really glad you stayed, so I’ll try my best not to crush your heart under the inconvenient weight.”
If you like what the Carolyn has been up to so far, you’ll enjoy this record. They’re a band that fits the current trends, the kind of band that grew up on NOFX, the Lawrence Arms, and the Menzingers, but found their real love in emo. Even though Pyramid Schemes of Grief hangs between those influences, it gives the Carolyn a sound that feels like it is theirs.
