How do you make a 15 minute EP about 20-something pains set in a world of bodegas and Dorito crumbs stand out? An initial answer when listening to New York native band, Crying, is to set some expertly arranged high-energy chip-tune leads at the forefront. But then again, can a few 8-bit notes really hold people’s attention for longer than those 15 minutes where you’re either browsing the internet like a zombie or driving to a job that you hate? “Get Olde” succeeds by blasting through your speakers with immediately catchy hooks and a beating punk heart, while turning typical millennial themes into a celebration of life that requires just a bit of careful listening to pick up on.
“Vacation,” which at four-minutes and twenty seconds, comes in as the album’s longest cut, best epitomizes the spirit of “Get Olde” in its percolating chorus: “Bon voyage/Forget that old world/I'm inching away from the darkest slump of my life/And I don't know if I'm coming back.” It’s an acknowledgement and triumph over the less-informed and less-mature you, with a hint of recognition to the fact that this feeling may not be permanent. But Crying doesn’t let these things bog them down, not when there’s so many little things in life to celebrate: a successful Cheeto and Yoo-hoo filled run to the store, friends who will drive you around without question, and that superior feeling when those judgey eyes at the family reunion turn their gaze towards a big piece of cake.
These victorious moments can sometimes pass by without proper fanfare due to the mixing of lead singer Elaiza Santos’ vocals. Amid a wild sea of Gameboy tunes, crashing cymbals and double-kick pedals (courtesy of a live drummer who pumps an extra shot of adrenaline through the album) , it can be difficult to make out exactly what chip our narrator has on her shoulder. But her passive delivery also keeps these bombastic songs grounded in basement scene reality, and warrants more careful listening in order to get a complete picture of each track.
“Get Olde” flies by in the blink of an eye, so you’ll get the chance to backtrack through it pretty often. Upon subsequent listens, what begins to stand out the most is how well Crying works their formula to capitalize on their strengths. When things need to get chaotic, they make an incredible amount of noise. And when Santos and crew need to tone it down to ask questions like, “How does the world perceive me perceiving myself,” or, “Will you ever be impressed by me,” there’s enough breathing room to really make these sentiments stick. We may only be held in Crying’s chip-punk world for 15-minutes, but these songs hang around and pop-up long after the return to our less-vibrant reality.
