by Esin Nisan Yildirim (@esinnisann)
Protomartyr are back with their seventh studio album Hotel Usona, further expanding the sound they've developed over the years, rooted in their Detroit post-punk background. The album is based on vocalist Joe Casey imagining America as an old hotel. Each room is haunted. At its core, Hotel Usona seems to be asking how much reality you can take before you start wanting to bend it. What does it take to pull you in enough to pay attention to the truth (she really is still trying to reach you)?
Reality is a fragile thing that requires a certain type of respect. Some albums, or pieces of art, lead the way toward living up to that standard, giving reality the ultimate respect it deserves. This is what the band is reaching for thematically with this album. They’re asking you to join them. The rooms of Hotel Usona pull you in quietly, and before you notice, they have turned into something unsettling. A somewhat familiar place, almost a memory, something you denied, rejected, bent somewhere along the way because it was too ugly. Too far from the image you had made of yourself. You thought maybe, just maybe, it was better not to look at it, and now it's right in front of you. That's the overall atmosphere of Hotel Usona: you vs. reality. Maybe this compartmentalization really does work, until all the rooms enmesh after the last track, and then, the feeling is forever.
The band worked with producer Dave Fridmann, who has previously worked with Nick Cave, MGMT, and The Flaming Lips. Just like their previous record, Formal Growth in the Desert, the lyrics and the sound balance each other out, both dense with their own references and sonic weight. Casey's lyrics keep circling questions and references, never quite settling on an answer - which is the point. Protomartyr has never been a band you can listen to in the background; they demand your full attention while holding up a mirror to you. It's not a walk in the park, but it's incredibly rewarding.
"The Old Hotel" opens the album like a late-night radio show in a quiet corner, with Casey singing, "welcome back." Alex Leonard's drumming stands out from the opening moment and carries that presence through the rest of the record. "Sounds We Cannot Hear" takes on avoidance and the weight of modern life, landing on a blunt gut-punch of a line: 'it's the weight you cannot bear / it's the guilt you cannot feel.' "The Knife Dream" is eerie and slow, with piano adding a shadowy layer beneath it, one of the album's most experimental turns as the drums shift and the song grows darker.
"Feed the Sewer" comes in with noisy post-punk, almost as if something is coming down from the sky, sounding like a prophecy: “INFORMATION DISEASE? / FUTURE DREAMS?” The tone and music shift from the first part of the album, as the band refuses to let this moment pass unnoticed. The explosive sound feels fitting too, especially when the song touches on AI, as if everything arrives already distorted before it reaches you. "Lavender – Gospel" slows the pace down, trading the earlier noise for something more measured and follows the theme of the cost of leaving responsibility to machines. As Casey puts it, ''the machine is thinking with no reason, no cause, no guilt, no touch."
Song such as "Third Country" feel like another form of escapism, described as 'less a suite, more of an experience'. Greg Ahee's turn toward '50s exotica is most audible here, while "Checking Out" pairs a dense sound with a direct confession: "What can a coward do?/ I'm checking out."
With its incredible lyricism and ambition in the sound, one may ask how far Protomartyr can go, especially considering how the band has progressed over the years, constantly building on their already multi-layered sound. But Iggy Pop asked an even more important question: "What is a Protomartyr?... A person or persons who want to be part of something beautiful and interesting, with the understanding that you may pay a price for that... Kind of like Jesus." Seeing past the noise all around you, moving past the anger it creates, and finding your way to a more refined position, room by room, that's what Hotel Usona asks of you. That’s the truth reaching for you. That’s the price you may have to pay.