The Deli Philly’s March Record of the Month: Jump Ship – No Thank You

South Philly singer-songwriter Kate Della Monica and her bandmates – better known as No Thank You – mark another milestone with the release of their first full-length album Jump Ship (Lame-O Records).

 

Opening with the hazy romance of “Eyeballs,” a dreamy hymn awash in chimes and bittersweet melody. A lo-fi annunciation, the album’s first track has the perfect mix of lyrical brevity and delicate soundscapes, while “Cold” proves to be a doubly affecting ballad, fusing moody melodrama, driving bass, and grunge-y chords. Confessions like “I’m sorry that I’ve been so cold again/but my heavy heart it needs to be frozen” are quickly followed by blips of disenchantment and crystallized hope: “Maybe there’s a chance for me/to float in this goddamn mess that I’ve been drowning in.” A probable soundtrack for self-care or the latter days of a problematic but passionate relationship, “Cold” will thaw the heart of its listener, despite its namesake.

 

“Old News” explores the haunting aftermath of human closeness, the pain of letting go, and the complex irony of missing those who harm us with harmony and riffs nostalgic of 90’s icons like Shirley Manson and Veruca Salt. “Serenity Song” is energetic and earnest as fuck, offering fans a mantra for coping: “God grant me the goddamn opportunity to move on,” which serves as the flawless preface to the hushed ambience of “Bad @ Love Songs”. Here, No Thank You says everything most lovers fail to without a shred of pretense or hesitation, making the track the opposite of what its title suggests.

 

The endearingly twee of “Juicy J” is a dance inducing pick-me-up, bound to make even the coldest stoic swoon, up until it’s end, examining the fine line between reality and “playing pretend” before the solemn start of “Teeter” takes over. In the tradition of The Cranberries seminal LP Everybody Else Is Doing It So Why Can’t We?,No Thank You’s ability to be brutally honest manifests itself equally via diction, lyricism, and instrumentation. Closing with the affirmingly self-aware “The Unbearable Purposelessness of Being,” an anthem of survival and growing older where proclamations like “you never know how strong you are until you start to break” and “I’m twenty something and I’m alive” are just enough to get you and your friends through the darkest of times.