Album Review: grandson - 'I Love You, I’m Trying'
Despite the ever-looming curse of the second album, the sophomore offering by grandson, ‘I Love You I’m Trying’, is nothing short of superb. It manages to retain the passion, the power and the general pizazz of debut ‘Death Of An Optimist’ while adding a whole new level of poignancy and pain — no mean feat given the vulnerability of said debut.
Jordan Edward Benjamin, better known as grandson, is typically known as a ‘political’ artist; but what does this mean? Calling an artist ‘political’ is a moniker both reductive and limitless — surely, in this modern social and political climate, everyone’s political? Who can afford not to be? Even the conscious decision to stay out of dealing with political or controversial topics is in and of itself, distinctly political. Yet, regardless, it’s a term worn by with pride, an albatross transformed into a blazing symbol of hope — and for good reason. It means that they’re making a difference, that what they’re doing is working.
Take 2018’s ‘thoughts & prayers’ for instance. Released in the wake of the Parkland shooting, that saw the deaths of 17 high school students and faculty members, thoughts & prayers - as well as being fierce, chilling, and just generally intense — was also debuted prior to a March For Our Lives event, with a children’s choir accompanying granny. A scathing indictment of American politicians and gun control laws alike, it’s impossible to see the song as anything other than political. Or, for instance, the incendiary ‘Blood // Water’, blatantly attacking individuals and corporations alike that are slowly killing the world out of greed — and that’s two of many.
But sometimes, the pressure of being ‘political’, of being a musical and cultural focal point for change, can be overwhelming. Unsurprisingly, this was the case for grandson too. And so, ‘I Love You, I’m Trying’ focuses more on the psychological and the social, tackling mental health, addiction, trauma, and the potential lethality of these taboo topics being left unsaid, the danger of not recognising the signs.
And that’s just third song ‘Something To Hide’, a just-under-two-minutes of raucous, acerbic, seething, energy; grandson in his prime, if ending painfully quickly.
The sophom-offering album opens with the piano-led Two Along Their Way, a short little intro that’s somehow both comforting and disorienting; a soft crooning, harmonious choruses behind, relives a halcyon youth… before piercing instrumentals build to one simple statement - ‘I Love You, I’m Trying’.
Then, it’s diving in time.
There’s the drug fuelled Eulogy, written in the aftermath of a bad trip, with Jordan instantly questioning his self worth and identity without his online persona, the track which reinvented what this second album was going to be; existential ramblings and nonchalant nihilism blend with the inimitable introspection he’s known for. The industrial call to arms of ‘Drones’, full of chaos and unpredictability, staring into the pretty lies we tell ourselves to sleep at night. Or, maybe, the alt-rock R&B anthem of ‘Murderer’ is more your taste, though it’s sometimes unclear whether the victim is Jordan’s psychological ego or his professional image; ‘tune in live for suicide, I’m a murderer’ we’re told, before the echo of a gunshot and a falling bullet casing is all that’s left.
The high-octane tracks are a blast to listen to, as good as anything released prior - but it’s in the emotional that Jordan’s really outdone himself. The catchy and foreboding ‘Enough’ is sure up there - rap gives way to a cinematic chorus, full of foreboding bass and a chorus of outward thoughts disguising the hurt within. The upbeat yet painfully honest ‘Half My Heart’, too, is a nice change of pace, seeing grandson bemoaning a lack of progress, always ending up back at the start with only wounds and scars for company.
The hope remains, however - at least for that song.
Less so for haunting title track ‘I Love You, I’m Trying’. A gentle apology, a plea for understanding and forgiveness, quickly gives way to slow, methodical instrumentals and despondent lyrics as the 29-year-old details his flaws and screw-ups, real or imagined. It’s heart-breaking, and despondent, and relatable; it might not be pushing the envelope of the genre, but it’s phenomenal nevertheless.
And it would comfortably be the standout if it weren’t for ‘Heather’.
‘Heather’ is… hard. It’s hard to listen to, and it’s hard to write about, but it must have been even harder to put to paper in the first place. Dedicated to the fans — the one still here and the ones no longer around — ‘Heather’ details how, even if the online persona and community of ‘grandkids’ that sprung up around it might help give him support and love when he needs it, he can’t always be there to give it back, and it breaks his heart. It’s overwhelming as a track, but the message is as important as, if not more so, any grandson’s explored before.
‘I Love You, I’m Trying’ is excellent. The tracks flow seamlessly between themselves; the heavy, the hard-hitting and the hectic all have their moments to shine. If anything, it’s just… too short. Songs seem to end just as they hit their stride, interludes and breakdowns seem a smidge too brief. But what a problem to have - when the only complaint is ‘not enough’, as with being called political, you must be doing something right.
Words by James O’Sullivan
