Quick disclaimer: You can consider this a review of the Petey USA album The Yips or The Yips (A Case Of), as the latter is The Yips plus some extra tracks. It really doesn’t matter which one is the subject of my review, though, since my reviews always end up being self-indulgent rambles about myself anyway with just an occasional reference back to the album, so there’s probably no need to split hairs with this one. Take your pick, buddy.
Petey USA seems like a cool guy. He gives me the impression that he’d be an optimal drinking buddy, the quiet reserved fellow who can engage in good conversation when appropriate or who can also just sit back and silently drink his beer when that’s appropriate. Also one who can reliably throw out a killer dry zinger and crack up the room when some comedy is in need.
Presuming him to be a humorous bar mate is not a bold assessment by any means, considering that his album is a collection of songs portraying perspectives of different fictional people at a bar, and yeah, also because Petey USA is internet famous for being funny.
I didn’t know either of these things when I first checked out the album, though. A random song simply popped up on Spotify (turned out to be the title track) and it had a very fun and energetic vibe, some great keyboards, and an upbeat, catchy production style, so I gave the album a go.
Turns out that the album is, in fact, great, and the artist whose name sounded familiar to me but which I couldn’t place was that long-haired, bearded, ball-capped dude with the absurd, minimalist comedy sketches that occasionally popped up on my Instagram feed – @petey_usa. Petey USA had already killed in the internet sketch comedy game and his earlier songs had received high internet praise. I had missed all of this because it turns out I am old and out of touch.
I don’t know the history behind the name “Petey USA,” and in the time it took me to write this sentence explaining that I didn’t bother googling it to find out, I could have googled it. Nonetheless, I like to think he just thought it was funny to slap “USA” after his name. In the same way that it’s funny to respond to “Where are you from?” with “Party Town, USA.” I wonder if he just needed a handle on instagram or TicToc and “petey” was taken, so he randomly appended “usa” to it, with his alternate choices being “2112” or “rocks!” or something. There’s an easy way for me to find this out (google), but I ain’t gonna do it!
This album resonated with me. I’m very much drawn to its concept (different perspectives from different bar patrons), allowing each song to tell its own unique story while still preserving a consistent theme throughout of quiet introspection, longing, various forms of loss and how we deal with it. That’s what I pulled from it, anyway.
As you might expect from a guy who’s known for being funny, there’s also some silliness throughout. It’s not overt, just kind of dancing around the edges, balancing out some of the more serious themes. Kind of like a buddy at the bar holding back a tear while reflecting on a really bad year, and then casually saying, “And these nachos are giving me the runs.”
Note that there’s no scatalogical comedy in Petey USA’s album. That little diarrhea tidbit above can be credited exclusively to me, Bones USA – Population: 1 (1 cool dude, that is!)
The second track on the album is the standout for me. My personal favorite, it’s about a couple buddies sitting at the bar together, one of whom has been going through some tough shit. It doesn’t explain what the tough shit is or was, but just generally covers the kind of things one does to keep oneself trucking when shit has gone south. “Sometimes it’s nice to have a quiet weekend. Lay down and get some shut eye, feel better in the morning.” The chorus is the kicker – “We sat in the corner, had the barman put the game on. No one asking any questions that meant anything to anyone… My only intention is to be there when you call me. Sometimes breathing the same air, has gotta be enough.”
Two friends sitting at the bar, not saying much, just watching the game. Leaving the pain outside the pub for a bit. Love it.
That’s the magic of the album – honest down-to-earth lyrics that anyone who’s had a tough go of it at some point, which is all of us, can relate to.
I’ll go on more about the lyrics, but let’s talk about the music briefly. It rocks. I think I read a while back that Petey played most of the instruments on the album, which is equally heavy on ripping guitar and on catchy poppy synth that brings up memories, to me anyway, of soundtracks to 80s comedy films. I mean that as a high compliment. The old 80s sex comedies had astoundingly good soundtracks. The Rocky 4 soundtrack also kicked so much ass, but that one doesn’t really have any relevance here, other than showing that I have great taste in 80s tunes.
The third track, “Ask Someone Else”, showcases this axe and synth back and forth in a high energy rocker with bouncy 80s robot dance party keyboards transitioning into Petey screaming over loud metal guitar riffs, with more of his straight forward, struggling, longing everyman lyrics that convey far more than they say outright. “Well I fell asleep in a parked car the other day, I was looking at meaningless pictures.”
The keyboards are what originally pulled me into the album. They play a significant role throughout, adding a depth and electricity to the songs without taking over and making it a synth or electronic album. At times they reminded me of the keyboards from Tegan & Sarah’s So Jealous and The Con albums from back in the 2000s.
And hey, guess I’m not such a dummy afterall, because the producer of The Con is also the producer of The Yips. Chris Walla, also of Death Cab for Cutie fame.
If I may be self-indulgent yet again, I have a distinct memory of listening to Death Cab for Cutie’s Transatlanticism on an iPod back around the time when it came out. I was raking leaves in front of the house where I lived alone. It was cold out. It had been a shitty couple of years. The somber, dark lyrics and the beautiful haunting sounds of the album just really gelled with my own personal vibe at the time. Although I felt like crap, and there were way too damn many leaves out in that yard that day, the solidarity I felt with that sad album was weirdly uplifting.
The songs in The Yips don’t remind me of Transatlanticism, necessarily, but they do remind me of that sad son of a bitch in the leaf pile who was listening to them.
There’s a fun jam midway into the album where one person is trying to wean him/herself out of an awkward attempt at intellectual/philosophical dialogue at the bar, first pushing back on the “What’s your spirit animal” question and then later announcing in the chorus, “Time keeps moving on and there’s nothing we can do about it, and I don’t want to waste another minute going on and on about this.” Basically, can we not overthink everything for a change?
I choose not to consider about how many people have wanted to say this to me over the years.
Oh and while we’re on the subject of me, that theme of “Let’s not overthink this” reminds me of a night back in high school in the early 90s when I went over to a buddy’s house whose parents were out of town. The back deck was jam-packed with high school stoners getting stoned and listening to jam bands, and one stoned girl and one stoned dude were playing the song “But Anyway” by the up and coming band Blues Traveler on a little boombox. Stoned girl was super pumped on the song and was going on and on about the deeper meaning behind the song. Stoned dude looked at her with a big stoned smile on his face and said, “I just think it’s a good song, man.”
Although I would probably align myself more with stoned girl’s sentiment because overthinking everything is a hobby of mine, I do admire the philosophy, or intentional anti-philosophy, of stoned guy, and it’s also what I took from the “What’s Your Spirit Animal?” song.
What’s cool about the album itself, though, is that you can consume it like the stoned girl, thinking through the story lines, the subtle meanings underneath the lyrics, the takes on modernity, growing up, responsibility, sadness, loneliness, figuring it out.
Or you can be like the stoned guy and just think it’s a bunch of good songs, man.
You’ll find a lot of enjoyment from the album either way, and I’m pretty sure you’ll come out of it like I did, thinking that this Petey USA dude seems like a cool guy. Also, he can rock.
Regards,
Bones from Party Town, USA
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