Jesse Tiffen

Viewpoints Editor

Last Thursday night, W.A.C. hosted the talented two-piece band You Won’t in the Underground. The Boston-based duo consists of Massachusetts natives Josh Arnoudse and Raky Sastri who use a litany of ordinary and not-so-ordinary musical instruments. Initially formed in 2011, the band released their first full-length album, Skeptic Goodbye in 2012. Ever since, the duo has toured all over the United States, gaining the respect of a variety of media outlets including The New Yorker and NPR. The New Yorker describes the music as “an eccentric folk-pop approach both charming and thought-provoking.” Similarly KEXP deemed them “infectious, frenetic, smartly crafted folk-pop.” As a firm believer that recently popular contemporary folk has entered a dark age, the “folk-pop” label seems out of place. So much  folk-pop today share all the same homogenous characteristics: the solitary kick drum, the lackluster overly introspective lyrics and excessive timed clapping and shouting.

Arnoudse’s vocals are the perfect balance between unusually nasal and gracefully melodic. Sastri provides a meticulous percussive sound that is at the forefront of many of their songs. Despite consisting of only two members, they are not limited to the standard guitar and drums setup. Some of their instruments include a saw, harmonium, a modified coffee can, a corrugaphone hooked up to an amplifier and large porch wind chimes. Skeptic Goodbye maintains a sense of emotional bluntness, a no-nonsense integrity that circumvents the negative aspects of introspection or overt irony by building the personal reflections in arresting and skillful language. The album starts off with the lyrics, “I’ve been brought up clean and organized/I’ve been each December satisfied/I’ve had wishes granted, none denied/ I’ve been flown down south and Disneyfied,” as Arnoudse broadcasts displeasure with his middle-class privilege. The song quickly takes a turn with the lines, “I sailed twenty seas of deep denial, On a million frequent flier miles, Ran a gauntlet built of grocery aisles, And a walking wall of guilt and bile.” The playful suburban nostalgia for the “clever imitation mined from photographs and DVDs,” is bound to connect with the College’s current generation of late-twenty-year-olds/self-declared ”90s kids” still grappling with the end of their childhood. It’s the same sentiment that makes so many Buzzfeed articles unbelievably popular, except more thoughtful and without the excessive GIFs and vapid journalism.

Despite the quality of Skeptic Goodbye, the album falls short of fully capturing the energy of their live performances. Both Sastri and Arnoudse kept the small gathering of students at the UG captivated and absorbed throughout the show. During one of their acoustic songs, “Sixteen,” not featured on Skeptic Goodbye, the band brought their instruments to the floor level of the UG and played to a intimate circle of students during which Arnoudse flailed and ran throughout the mostly vacant UG with his wind chimes, giving everyone high fives.

Their nonsensical stage presence was oddly refreshing. In a very David Byrne style, Arnoudse’s unapologetic awkwardness made the uncool seem unbelievably cool.

The small gathering at the UG seemed to be just as enthused. I overheard one student state, “That was absolute perfection. I really don’t think you can improve from here.” Arnoudse responded, “Oh man, those are some powerful words. I hope I don’t crash and burn after this.” Fortunately for Sastri and Arnoudse, given the momentum the group has gained over the last two years, I think burning out is the very last of their worries.