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Pessimism and PUP go hand in hand. Rather than embroidering ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ into throw pillows, the Toronto punk rockers have become the poster boys of snot-nosed nihilism – that is, until now. Five releases deep, these self-deprecating scamps have inadvertently landed on their own brand of life-affirmation; while it’s certainly no ‘Carpe Diem’, Who Will Look After The Dogs? serves as a mantra for the down-but-not-out generation, banishing suicidal despair with a reminder of the defiance and downright spite that make life worth living.
Don’t worry: PUP haven’t gone soft. While guiding pearls of wisdom are there, each one is delivered with a bite of PUP-flavoured malice. Best Revenge paints it best; as Stefan Babcock howls “The best revenge is living well!” his advice is wholesome despite its callous undertone of vengeance. This off-beat joy encapsulates the record’s call-to-arms camaraderie in this burning shitheap of a world.
Who Will Look After The Dogs? is bursting at the seams with this clash of celebratory bitterness and dissonant chaos. From the jubilant No Hope to the bratty “I don’t give a shit” petulance of Concrete, PUP thrive in their fuzzy, overdrive-drunk whirlwind of ‘c’est la vie’ negativity. Much like their 2014 debut, there’s no logic or sense to the cacophony of gritty punk rock, yet it somehow manages to hold itself together.
A razor-sharp wit ties everything together, with frontman Babcock taking on the role of the world’s most charming antagonist. On songs written after his life "unexpectedly imploded", he’s constantly teetering on the edge, wearing a high-strung façade of apathy that could crack. Whether it’s the anthemic, gnawing angst of top-tier cut Paranoid, or the frazzled, twanging hostility of Get Dumber, he's also out for blood: even Hunger For Death’s floating, airy intro is loaded with venom, with the singer proclaiming “Fuck everyone on this planet!”
While the record often lingers in a realm of enraged absurdity – Olive Garden combines familial death, horniness and a Sesame Street-worthy chorus – there is ample vulnerability on show too. The title alone comes from Hallways, with the line “I can’t die yet ‘cause who will look after the dog?” showing the peculiar details that might delay action on suicidal thoughts. Shut Up is equally as sombre, Babcock crooning “I’m working through the fog” with the aid of his “stupid little songs.”
As excruciating as life can be, this record accepts that the only way out is through. While PUP will never quite see the world with rose-tinted spectacles, their lens of spite and absurdity seems to do the job. It’s bizarrely optimistic nihilism – and it’s bloody marvellous.
