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Cup - "Hiccup" | Album Review


by Myles Dunhill (@MylesDunhill)

How many of us grew up with the awkward experience of spelling “i-c-u-p” aloud to whomever was trying to pull one over on us in our youth? Only fitting that Tym Wojcik, the head honcho behind grunge pop outfit, Cup, would consciously tap into feelings of pre-adolescent shame and anxiety while also encompassing the mischievous rendering of the prankster in the aforementioned example. Fused with the raw vigorous immediacy of searing garage punk, there is most certainly a primal component to Cup that easily transposes those formative experiences of making sense of the world and then dishing it back out onto itself. On Hiccup, Tym gives all of that kinetic anxiousness a catharsis with a whirlwind of distorted and prickly guitar-driven scorchers.

There are many comparisons to similar sounding indie rock groups whose list would take up this entire review, but ultimately none of them would do Cup or Hiccup justice, because the unique qualities of Cup lay in their sheer freewheeling exuberance which transcend style and generates ecstatic levels of levity with a hard downward slanted edge. Look no further than lead single, "Apparition," taking a familiar sounding rhythm and reshaping it into something fluid yet calculated with the band clearly having fun. A beautiful sense of chaotic emergence starts to unfold as quickly as the first guitar strums are heard and by the end of the track something has been exorcised leaving a brief moment of clarity before the onslaught continues. 

Other cuts like, "Foggy Mind," or, "Realization," also deal with the woes of mental strain with signature guitar overdrive relinquishing the cognitive confusion in vapor trails of smoldering rubble. "Caustic Creeper" is a real adrenaline missile, throwing your head into a constantly revving motorcycle engine until all the gas has been depleted. Even when lyrical content is kept to a minimum like on album closer, "Mindreader," or even entirely absent like on the track, "Life Isn’t So Bad," the sentiment remains the same, transforming uncertainty and befuddlement into blithe joy.

Ultimately, Hiccup comes on quick like a wildfire consuming everything in its path leaving behind only the vague comprehension of what had actually transpired only moments before. An album packing this much gratifying immediacy can make you feel the purging of inner demons through its robust clamorous attack, and with the record’s brisk pace operating the way one quickly skims a grocery list you could easily think afterwards, ‘If only therapy were as similarly satisfying…’