Courtney Barnett Album Review: "Tell Me How You Really Feel"

- Ali Szubiak | @aliszoob  May 21, 2018

If music is emblematic of the cultural and political climate from whence it's borne, let Courtney Barnett’s latest — the stellar sophomore release Tell Me How You Really Feel — be a succinct encapsulation of 2018’s increasingly dark days.

That’s not to say Barnett’s collection is a dreary one, or even rife with political overtones. But the Melbourne rocker’s signature vocal affectation — an apathetic delivery that expertly conveys empathy and vulnerability without ever succumbing to overt sentimentality— is reflective of the general malaise and deep-seated anxiety that’s taken grip of an entire generation, and it’s been masterfully honed on the punk-tinged release. 

Take Barnett's casual, lilting approach to “Nameless, Faceless,” Tell Me...'s powerhouse lead single. She eases listeners into a song — the title and style of which recall Nirvana’s hidden Nevermind gem, “Endless, Nameless” — so singalong in its initial melodic structure, it’s easy to ignore the dark lyrical content upon first listen. The verses detail the kind of emotional labor women are typically saddled with when considering male feelings above all else (“I’m real sorry / ‘Bout whatever happened to you”) – despite so often being on the receiving end of male anger.

But then Barnett comes in heavy with the chorus, a Margaret Atwood-rip of a phrase (“Men are scared that women will laugh at them...Women are scared that men will kill them”) that's only further punctuated by its post-chorus chant. She sings, “I hold my keys between my fingers,” — an all-too-familiar practice for women, normalized by the necessity of illusory protection. 

It’s this keen portrayal of overlooked everyday occurrences that earned Barnett indie darling status in the first place, with the release of her quirky debut LP Sometimes I Sit And Think, And Sometimes I Just Sit.

But where Sometimes I Sit… offered an absurdist exploration of life’s more surreal moments, Tell Me... is an album more rooted in reality — and in anger. The album kicks off with “Hopefulessness,” a throwback alt-rocker chock full of truisms (“No one’s born to hate / We learn it somewhere along the way”) recited over mournful, plucky guitars that culminate in a steady, aggressive build, only to teeter off toward the tail-end — where a whistling tea kettle closes out the track, a callback to Barnett's signature eccentricity. 

Sonically, Tell Me... offers more of what Barnett does best: grungy, strident guitars that recall Nirvana and the Pixies at their most melodic, interspersed with ‘60s rock and relatable sing-talk vocals that lend approachability to an otherwise skillful, sophisticated collection. 

The deceptively cheerful “City Looks Pretty” — a bright, honeyed track that benefits from subtle psychedelic guitars — touches on shifting perspectives and interpersonal relationships in a way directly related to Barnett’s life on the road. "I'm Not Your Mother, I'm Not Your Bitch," meanwhile, is an indignant, biting punk track, packing one hell of a punch in just under two minutes. 

Standout track “Crippling Self Doubt And A General Lack Of Self Confidence” — perhaps Tell Me…'s most radio-friendly clip and certainly the album’s most self-loathing — gets a generous assist from The Breeders’ Kelley and Kim Deal, who offer rousing gang vocals on the track's self-searing chorus: “I don’t know, I don’t know anything.” 

And while Tell Me How You Really Feel sees Barnett at her most aggressive yet, the album isn’t without its moments of softness. The romantic “Sunday Roast,” is a gentle, vulnerable ballad whose strength lies in Barnett’s approach to lyrical simplicity. “And I know all your stories / But I’ll listen to them again,” she sings at the close without eye-roll, a gesture as sincere and self-sacrificing as it gets. Tell Me How You Really Feel is worth several repeat listens, too.

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