UNFD
18 August 2023
Learning How To Live And Let Go is the fifth album by UK alternative three-piece The XCERTS, but it’s my first encounter with this band. Before we jump into a review, let’s talk about music and moods, shall we?
I don’t mind admitting that my mental health hasn’t been in tip-top shape in recent weeks. When it comes to music, unless you’re a robot, I think we can all agree that we’re inclined to listen to music that fits with whatever mental groove we might currently be in… so it can be a little tricky to review new albums if your mindset doesn’t match the material you’re presented with.
On the other hand, sometimes the right music can come left of field and lift you straight up out of a funk, too. I was kind of expecting that to happen for me when I first hit play on Learning How To Live And Let Go.
The opening track, Gimme, which is a short and sharp one minute and forty seconds long, straight up annoyed me. It’s repetitive and to me, has a slightly obnoxious tone. Now, stick with me here, because remember my disclaimer about music and moods? My mood was not sitting on the frequency Gimme is riding. I gave it a second listen to make sure I was being fair, and my opinion didn’t change. If I choose to revisit this album, I envision this song will forever be skipped, and I realise this may be an unfair take on a pretty innocent pop-rock album intro, but I just found it on the abrasive side.
Moving on, we kick into the second track, Car Crash Culture. Yes! This is more like it! Bouncy, uplifting pop-rock vibes that one hundred percent would have held up as the opening song. This song is the mood lifter I needed, laced with hooks and a chorus that is easy to sing along to on first listen. If Blink-182 slept with Dashboard Confessional, this song would be its progeny. I’ve forgotten about the opening track already.
Jealousy is the third song on the table and is a plateful of early-2000s vibes with a heavy garnishing of Weezer influence, and I even detected a sprinkling of Teenage Dirtbag feels on second listen. Another track with feel-good tones, my mood is lifting as this record goes on. I’m bobbing my head and while I feel I’m not listening to anything life-changing, it’s certainly enjoyable.
Ache features Sam Carter of Architects and, like the opening track, is only one minute and forty minutes long. Short and sweet, but successfully achieving what the opener could not by drawing me in. Sam Carter’s contribution to this song doesn’t add a whole lot, or make it stand out amongst the other songs on the record; If I’m being honest, it has a groove much the same as its predecessors, bouncy pop-rock that flows nicely from track to track, but it’s a good song and possibly deserved to have been lengthened for optimal satisfaction.
But hang on, just when I thought I could predict how this album was flowing, the fifth song, Drag Me Out, comes along to change the tone with a heartfelt ballad. After multiple listens, I have concluded that this is my favourite song on the album. Maybe it’s because it has resonated with my ongoing low mood? Music and mood pairing is important, after all. Drag Me Out is a simple tune with a ton of feeling.
Following on from that, Everything I Cannot Live Without is a slow acoustic number with gorgeous lyrics. “A world without you in it is a world I don’t care for,” vocalist Murray Macleod croons. These lyrics give us insight into someone being talked down from a ledge, and once again, my mood matches this vibration.
This track works for the two sides of a coin. If you are feeling low, then these words are laced with love and hope and meaning, and if you are trying to support someone during a low time, these words are a delicate arsenal that can be used to coax a fragile individual through.
From this point on, the vibes are mostly mellow. Lovesick ups the tempo a little and is a cute song that would appeal to anyone in a new relationship, feeling all those electric feelings associated with the early days of love. Inhale (Her) is something of a short interlude and a slow number. Lust In Translation is a beat-driven, chill song and at this point, I’m feeling like the beginning of the album was the rowdy Saturday night house party, and from track five onwards we are experiencing the shadowy hibernation of the Sunday that follows, blinds shut and marinating in self-reflection.
Track 10, Blame, has a bit more pep in its step, giving us a last taste of bubbly energy. I instantly liked this song. It has a subtle hint of Blink-182 esque guitar melodies, and jump-along drums. I will most definitely be adding this song to my personal playlist.
The last two songs on Learning How To Live And Let Go drop the tempo again. My Friends Forever is a slow, piano-driven ballad with a timeless feel, and It Ain’t Easy is a gentle acoustic number, and at four minutes and twelve seconds, is the longest song on the record.
All of the songs on this album are quite short, but then again, the whole composition is sitting solidly
within the pop genre, so I suppose when taking that into account, the lengths of the songs is standard, at an average of two–three minutes per song.
I personally would have preferred the album to finish on a more upbeat and energetic song, but all up this is a record that delivers well-written, enjoyable pop-rock songs. There are no ground-breaking, life-changing moments, but I don’t believe every band or record necessarily needs to push boundaries.
So, let’s get back to music and moods to wrap this up. I was taken on something of a ride with this album.
My already low mood was kicked aside for a brief moment when listening to the first quarter of the record, then slowly it met me where I started: feeling a little somber, a little broody, a lot emotional and a lot reflective.
Learning How To Live And Let Go is available everywhere on August 18 through UNFD.
