For those unfamiliar with Toronto-based punk rock band PUP, the name is an acronym for “pathetic use of potential,” lead singer Stefan Babcock has said. That should give listeners an idea of the snarky rejection of perfectionism at the core of this group.
It should also be kept in mind when this reviewer says that PUP’s latest offering, “Who Will Look After The Dogs?” is, well, not good. And compared to their previous work — it’s not. But good is probably not what they were going for.
Bassist Nestor Chumak, guitarist Steve Sladkowski, drummer Zack Mykula and songwriter Babcock make up the motley crew that is PUP. The quartet has come up in the past decade as a punk-pop rock staple, combining Babcock’s yelled lyrics about human fallibility with humor and catchy, head-banging melodies.
But “Who Will Look After The Dogs?” is missing the invigorating electric guitar riffs and cohesion that made past albums so solid. Instead, it is unapologetically imperfect, reveling in the joy of making loud music without so much rhyme and reason.
The group’s fifth studio album focuses on Babcock’s relationships — with romantic partners, bandmates and with himself. In the album, Babcock shares his vulnerable side, not the first time for the singer who has an open history with depression.
“Hallways” sheds light on the background of the album’s title as Babcock sings, “I’m losing the will to keep dragging on / But I can’t die yet ’cause who will look after the dog?”
Dark, self-deprecating humor permeates the album — and PUP’s work as a whole — like in the gritty “Olive Garden,” when Babcock asks a past romantic partner to meet up at the restaurant, (“Last time your Grandma was in a coffin”) or in the bittersweet “Hunger For Death,” in which Babcock curses, “(expletive) everyone in this venue / especially me, especially me.”
The word “messy” might be used to describe “Who Will Look After The Dogs?” But it can be enjoyable in an unpolished way.
The 12-track album features the frustration and brash style that PUP is known for, and its cathartic as always, especially in “Get Dumber” featuring scene stalwart Jeff Rosenstock and “Concrete.”
But some songs take a step back from the band’s usual frenetic energy, especially the ones reflecting Babcock’s romantic relationships. That is where the album can tend to lag, like in breakup ballads “Best Revenge” and “Shut Up.”
There are pleasures and missteps across the album, but the latter outweighs the former, making this one of the weaker releases across PUP’s animated discography.
But hey, at least they had fun. Does that make it good? Still, no. But the punk band probably couldn’t care less. Rock on, PUP.
