It is both a blessing and a curse to feel so deeply. LANY’s lyrics have a way of making the prior statement painfully apparent. Now… imagine feeling super angsty, but the year is 1986.
Is this St. Elmo’s Fire? Am I hanging out with Robert Downey Junior from Less Than Zero? (Excellent Bret Easton Ellis novel-turned 80’s cult movie). Dude, is this is The Lost Boys and I’m about to fall in love in a really really varsity jacket/hopeless place?
No to all the above questions. I’m actually just listening to LANY’s ‘Let’s Make Out’ EP.
The three piece dream-pop machine technically formed in Nashville, but it’s obvious that their frequencies are California brewed. They have a slightly satirical ability of conveying heartache and wanderlust, in a way only a stereotypical valley girl could. And that’s not in a bad way. I think?
LANY’s intrigue is found in their nostalgia. Synth wave and poppy. Light hearted yet gut wrenching. With songs like ‘ILYSB‘ & ‘BRB’ & “4EVER” the boys ‘
totally‘ started off trying to tap into a very specific sector of the early pubescent millennials, trying to find common ground with their text message lingo titles. Yet their sound is ‘totally’ what I would imagine the later part of the 80’s sounded like. So they are a contrast of new and old. Hell -of-a juxtaposition to find oneself in.
With ‘WHERE THE HELL ARE MY FRIENDS’, the group’s sound and message has begun to shift and occupy a deeper space in the beach-pop spectrum. It’s an example of how they’ve graduated from the typical crooning over unrequited lovers – to asking slightly deeper existential questions. The type of questions we all find ourselves pondering about in this age of constant connectivity. I mean, where actually are our friends, LANY?
“Where the hell are my friends
Out without me again
Friday, wine, and the internet
A life I wish I could forget”
Is this what FOMO in 2k16 feels like?
LANY is easy, dreamy and something you’d find tucked away in the back of your parents closet. Next to their old 80’s neon spandex outfits, pictures of them and their friends from the local mall and old vintage vinyl records.
- yea, babe, no way
- WHERE THE HELL ARE MY FRIENDS