In music composition, our professors often refer back to Leonard BernsteinвЂ™s concept of inevitability in music. Songs like the quasi-choral, stunningly beautiful вЂњThe Big Joyous Celebration,вЂќ вЂњViolet,вЂќ and вЂњNeighborhood Drug DealerвЂќ somehow find a way to coexist alongside the electronic churn of вЂњObvious LoveвЂќ and вЂњHurricane,вЂќ the auto-tuned bliss of вЂњWild Thing Runs Free,вЂќ the almost dance-floor-ready abandon of вЂњThe Stomach of the Earth,вЂќ and the brutal/noisy punishment of вЂњBeauty.вЂќ And thatвЂ™s where one of the most beautiful characteristics of this album comes to light. Over the course of the record itself, though, this sense of wild stylistic diversity only becomes more acute. But, while previous efforts were certainly stylistically diverse, Big Joyous ramps up the diversity factor both inter- and intra- song to an almost ridiculous extent.ДЄ really keyВ example of huge diversity within a single track is the opener, вЂњLiving Proof.вЂќ Over the course of four and a half mostly-instrumental minutes, this song wheels wildly back and forth from genre to genre, touching variously on somber acoustic guitar work that wouldnвЂ™t be out of place on an Alex G record, jazzy-driving electric guitar chord figures, confessional emo, near post-rock lushness topped by soaring trumpets and jazz-inflected keys, and quasi-shreddy alt-rock. Lo-fi gems like вЂњAlex,вЂќ вЂњJust a Pop Song,вЂќ вЂњGod,вЂќ and вЂњPavementвЂќ have all the crushed roar and raw-nerve emotion to satisfy any long-term Teen Suicide fans. ThatвЂ™s not to say that Teen Suicide is no longer lo-fi, because they definitely are, but the distortion and mud are slathered on in a way that doesnвЂ™t feel obstructive of the songs themselves. Compared to their previous records and EPs, such as 2012вЂ™s i will be my own hell because there is a devil inside my body and waste yrself, Big Joyous has a much greater sense of purpose and clarity, even down to the production itself. Over the course of sixty-nine minutes and twenty-six songs, Big Joyous comes across as a definitive statement for the band if only by virtue of its sheer size and scope. The band themselves, amid all the swirling hype around the album (вЂњOMG theyвЂ™re totally breaking up this timeвЂќ) note on their site that this is the last Teen Suicide record by virtue of the fact that they will be continuing under a different name after this album (and who could blame them, honestly, for wanting to change their name from вЂњTeen SuicideвЂќ).Д®ven with that out of the way, itвЂ™s easy to see why this album could be relatively simply digested as a farewell. ItвЂ™s the Big Joyous Celebration, LetвЂ™s Stir the Honeypot is being marketed as Teen SuicideвЂ™s swan song, but letвЂ™s clear up first that it is not. In the past couple of years since their so-called reunion, rumors built that the band was planning on releasing one last proper album before finally calling it quits, and on April 1 st that album was released on Run for Cover. Originally as a means to court the enthusiasm for the band after its brief dissolution, Ray and the guys got back together and began playing shows again, often with collaborators/friends like Alex G and Elvis Depressedly.

But in the brief absence of Teen Suicide as an entity, the groupвЂ™s popularity skyrocketed, led by an increasingly fervent fan base on Tumblr. Even with all the activity though, and a decent following, the group (mostly the outlet for RayвЂ™s own songs more than a traditional band) вЂњdisbandedвЂќ in January of 2013, but returned to performing in various capacities by the end of the same year.Д«y all accounts, it looked like Ray was going to focus on his other projects, the semi-folky Julia Brown and the warped electronics of Ricky Eat Acid. Since 2011, Teen Suicide, with Maryland singer-songwriter/multi-instrumentalist Sam Ray at the helm, has been fairly consistently lobbing explosive blasts of genre-scattered lo-fi emo/indie pop onto the internet via Bandcamp.

Lead singer of teen suicide band