Despite being commonly refereed to as a pop-punk band – often one of the best might we add, and for good reason – The Wonder Years have long graduated from the hallways of this often infantile genre. After summiting the zenith of the pop-punk sound with their 2013 LP The Greatest Generation, the later half of last decade saw the band signing their names within the annuals of emo and alt rock with their 2015 effort No Closer To Heaven and the aforementioned Sister Cities. Yet, despite their forays into such fringe genres, these two records still wonderfully resonated the group’s now famous emotional songwriting and vocalist Dan Campbell’s unmatched poetic lyricism on his unceasing state of ennui. These two records didn’t exactly dethrone the acts that sit atop the pinnacle of the such respective genres, yet they where incredible additions to The Wonder Years’ own unblemished discography and albums that highlighted the ever-maturing sound of the band.
But with that in mind, many questioned where the band was destined to travel next in their journey through the infringe territories of punk. Where they going to continue to travel down the roads of alt rock laid by Sister Cities? The answer couldn’t be further from the truth. The 2020 standalone anxious singles of ‘Out On My Feet’ and ‘Brakeless may have been an indication for things to come – with such tracks being in the key of the jittery pop-punk expressed within their third record Suburbia – but The Hum Goes On Forever seeing the band retread mostly the pop-punk stylings from their youth. This isn’t a full reprisal though; many things have changed since their aforementioned graduation from pop-punk, the most prominent of these being Campbell’s newfound adventure into fatherhood. This, alongside their recent genre dynamism, makes their new effort makes the album a pop-punk record only in sound and presentation. The Hum Goes On Forever is a record created by the considered carefulness that comes with the passing into adulthood and is an album that bares witness to some of the band’s most open revelations yet.
Put bluntly, The Hum Goes On Forever is a quintessential record exploring the nature of fatherhood and how it alters the perception of one’s life thus far and one’s pre-existing mental state. But what a fantastic exploration it is, especially given it’s perfectly expressed articulations on the highs and lows of such a journey and it’s varied songcraft. ‘Doors I Painted Shut’ establishes all of this. Like ‘There, There’ solidified the coming-of-age anxiety binding The Greatest Generation and just as ‘Raining In Kyoto’ laid the ground for the ruminations on loss that compassed Sister Cities, this opener – tenderly, transparently, borderline darkly – states the fact that the Cambell’s battles with his mental health are still at a stalemate. Yet, addressed with it’s swelling crescendo, he now has a reason to fight with iron will, something made evident with the jubilant ‘Wyatt’s Song (Your Name)’. One of the most upbeat song committed to tape by the band, the song is a celebration on the joy of fatherhood and a contrast to it’s predecessor, marking the establishment of the great and wide-angled dichotomy that is to be found on this record.
Whilst the pop-punk rushings of ‘Paris Of Nowhere’ and ‘Low Tide’ are brilliant insights into the current fluctuating mindset of Campbell, with the desperate latter being a classic pain stricken ode to defeatism, a large section of this record see’s the band looking back to their youth through the lens of adulthood. Yet, these retrospections are not just expressed via Cambell’s fantastic and visual lyricism, but through their instrumentations too, resulting in musical reprisals that longtime fans will fawn over. ‘Oldest Daughter’ and ‘Cardinals II’ may be a continuation on the metaphorical Madelyn story arc from their 2013 LP and a musical, goose-bump inducing reprisal of the first Cardinals from No Closer To Heaven albeit from an aged lens respectively, but the gloomy alt-rock of ‘Lost In The Light’ see’s the band looking back on the journey they’ve undertaken whilst still being relatable one’s own life. As Cambell sings “When I was 17, I wrote a song about drinking kerosene” backed by fantastic harmonies, it’s impossible not look back on the journey through life we’ve all undertook. Such is the brilliance of this record and Dan’s lyrical work; this may be a deeply personal body of work, but again, The Wonder Years feels relatable, personally poignant, and almost tailor made to our own experiences.
Such exercises in recollection may serve as a basis for the band’s return to their mostly pop-pop orientated roots. Yet the moments where the band opt to utilise other genres not only add fantastic variation to the record, but only highlight the inherent human emotion that lies as the crux of The Hum Goes On For Forever. ‘Laura And The Beehive’, another insight on youth, returns to the softly delicate workings of Sister Cities in a fashion heavily reminiscent of that record’s ‘Flowers Where Your Face Should Be’, especially given it’s sepia motifs. The airy and sun-blessed acoustic ballad of ‘Summer Clothes’ resonates a similarly blissful aura, but it’s ‘Songs About Death’ that stands as the heaviest song ever offered by the band. Driven by concussive, borderline post-metal riffs and passages of monochromatic spaciousness, the track addresses Campbell’s hyper-fixation with death now altered with the birth of his children. It’s a surprising moment, one only made more left-field given the anxious albeit musically upbeat track-listing it finds itself within, but one that only complements The Wonder Years’ ever continuing experiments in musical dynamism as conduit for human emotion.
Above all else, the best quality of The Hum Goes On Forever is just how life-affirming it is. Yes, it’s a record fuelled by anxiety now made palatable with Cambell’s addressings on how his struggles with mental health may effect his new family, but it’s one that see’s him and the band as a whole standing up to their demons instead of letting them overwhelm them. It has been widely assumed that this record would be a resounding success given the band’s essentially unmatched consistency in the genre they have mastered, but what has not been anticipated is just how validating this record is. Dan and The Wonder Years as a collective have long been plagued by the demons of the mind, but this record proves that there will always be a reason to continue the good fight. With that in mind, once again many will find solace in the band’s perfectly tailored approach to pop-punk and the lyricism that drives it. The Hum Goes On Forever is a triumph, not just for the band, but for the fans as well; once again, The Wonder Years establish themselves as the bar to be met in pop-punk again.