In Thomas Pynchon’s landmark novel Gravity’s Rainbow, American lieutenant Tyrone Slothrop finds himself caught up in the conspiracy to end all conspiracies. Starting with an apparent link between his sexual activity and V-2 rocket strikes, the mystery deepens exponentially, escalating (or unravelling) into an increasingly complex network of situations and characters. Worse, the further Slothrop descends into the secret, the more distant the hope of any answer grows, as though asking questions only produces countless more as paranoia feeds off the demand for truth. It’s only when he suspends this quest that he finds anything close to peace of mind, the cessation of questioning creating a space within the postmodern landscape just big enough to live in. For Slothrop, the closest he gets to a satisfying answer is swallowing the question.
Which is an idiosyncratic way of introducing the latest album from Halifax, Nova Scotia band Nap Eyes. Though idiosyncratic seems apt, as they are something of a unique entity. Indeed, it’s difficult to envisage any other act coming up with their brand of hyper-literate laid-back pop, sunny swaying melodies as vessels for intricate postmodern postulations on life, self and the universe. Their previous two albums, Whine of the Mystic and Thought Rock Fish Scale, achieved an admirable blend of catchy low-key infectiousness and deceptive thematic depth, lyrics tumbling forth like messages from the universe in a zoned-our meditative state. Their latest effort, I’m Bad Now is no different, if anything a little more catchy and direct. Leave it to Nap Eyes to write a Pynchonian folk pop album about the multiverse, jam-packed with philosophical musings and wriggling earworms.
At the centre of this is lead Nigel Chapman, whose lyrics and Lou Reed-esque delivery form the spine of every track. The album’s blurb goes a step further, casting him as something of an epistemological explorer, or, in their words, “an existential detective who interrogates social, psychological, and spiritual milieus for clues about the elusive nature of knowledge.” What exactly does this mean, you might ask? Well, the bio expands helpfully: “In this role, the song-persona, if not the songwriter, resembles a monkish, beatifically stoned Columbo, vigilantly squinty-eyed in his metaphysical quest for self-understanding, despite ostensible bumbling on the physical plane.” Something of a real-life Slothrop, where the conspiracy is life itself.
Which may or may not make things any clearer. Luckily, opener ‘Every Time the Feeling’ throws us straight into the mixer with an an ode to doubt and existential woe. Here, a nagging feeling is ever-present, what Pynchon defined as anti-paranoia, “where nothing is connected to anything, a condition not many of us can bear for long.” But, despite it’s lofty themes, it functions equally well as a rather more grounded pop song, and ultimately the ending could be seen as optimistic, depending on each listener’s own interpretation. As Chapman sings:
“Oh I can’t tell what’s worse:
The meaninglessness or the negative meaning
But I figured out a way
To get on with my life and to keep on dreaming”
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Using our universal imposter syndrome as a jumping off point, ‘I’m Bad’ follows fundamental doubt to its paradoxical conclusion. Because too much doubt can becomes an end in itself, the non-answer as an answer, relativism as its own absolute conclusion. The kicker, of course, is that this risks double the pain—nothing substantial in terms of existential nourishment, yet no room for forward progress or hope for anything more meaningful. Which draws us back to the opening track: what’s worse, an endless quest for truth, albeit one where the hope of an answer remains? Or the truth found, but revealed as something empty and unsatisfying? An insatiable hope, or jaded flatness?
‘Judgement’ follows with what plays like a sonic spiral, repetitive and swinging ever downwards with increasing velocity, the guitar squalling like a swarm of insects as Chapman investigates memory both philosophically and biologically. “Think of every single moment in time that would’ve faded from your mind,” he sings, “if not for the rewiring process, the synaptic protein fold caress.” ‘Roses’ is another standout, a rattling rocker compared to the usual sedate Nap Eyes pace. It begins as a song about an unwanted bouquet, but the pseudo-chorus and rousing outro see it become something more, a comment on our very human quest to find connection.
“People look for their reflections
everywhere in everyone
some like a soft glow
some a little sharper depiction”
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There’s a country vibe on ‘Dull Me Line’, another song that hits the sweet spot between the immediacy of indie rock and Chapman’s careful lyricism. It’s ostensibly a song about self-doubt, infused with an uneasy sense of directionlessness that, as with Slothrop, begins to edge toward a different take on answering the questions. “Dull me heart” Chapman sings, “Heavy with bored and lazy disappointment art,” and a little later, “Dull me soul / Wandering restlessly without a goal.” Maybe the way to arrive at meaning is to stop running toward it?
As if prompted by these sentiments, things begin to decelerate, tracks like the meandering ‘Sage’, which twirls into the air like the perfumed smoke of a fire tended by the titular medicine man, and ‘White Disciple’ which unfurls slowly from shuffling drums and lazy bass. Closer ‘Boats Appear’ takes this to its conclusion, a track so laid-back it feels downright dreamy, painting the image of boats passing on the horizon as the narrator reflects on existence. Any hint of anxiety or ennui from previous tracks is replaced by patient acceptance, that kind of flooding contentment that comes with a vacation’s late evening, where time seems to stretch like taffy and the mortal tick slows to a comforting rhythm. If the quest for answers is endless, or the answers are unsatisfying, this track seems to say, then why not stop asking?
“It takes time to understand things
And even then, man, things go so slow”
The ultimate triumph of I’m Bad Now is the way it works on several different layers. It’s great without context or lyrical interrogation but, in true postmodern form, closer inspection reveals a fractal-like complexity. Behind the heavy-lidded blasé exterior lies a rich and tangled inner life, an invitation to fall into the folds of Chapman’s brain and watch his thoughts pass by. As such, it’s kind of up to you which version of Slothrop you would prefer to be. Those with enough curiosity or desire can try to arrange the Nap Eyes lines into a magical formation, wrestling with the existential questions in the hope that they will be the first to figure it all out. The rest can take a back seat and let the Big Stuff drift around them, finding comfort in the fact that there are things bigger than us, and beauty in the understanding that they are beyond our grasp.
I’m Bad Now is out via Paradise of Bachelors and you can get it from the Nap Eyes Bandcamp page.
