Athens-based art pop artist Stephen Bluhm has just launched his new project Work Crush with the recent release of their first single “Emotional Plea,” featuring the legendary Mike Watt of Minutemen on bass. The song pairs social commentary lyrics with a synth-heavy soundscape evocative of Talking Heads and Sean Nicholas Savage. Catch the live band, consisting of Stephen Bluhm, Scott Kellerhouse, Ethan Kelly, and Nate Gebhard, at their debut shows September 13th at the Hudson Milliner Art Salon in Hudson and November 20th at Avalon Lounge in Catskill.
While Bluhm’s solo work can be described as chamber pop, Work Crush takes a turn toward an indie/pop rock direction. The vocals retain their dramatic flair, but the music is less classical and cinematic and more contemporary and vibey. The single is driven by Watt’s grooving bass, along with Alex Wernquist’s in-the-pocket drums and Bluhm’s steady guitar upstrokes, all embellished by delightfully wacky, spacey synth effects. After a quick kick and snare, the full band kicks in immediately in conjunction with Bluhm’s David Byrne-esque vocals: “I’m just sitting here wondering / ‘What can I do?’ / Send a little money to some aid / That won’t get through / Wrote my Senator / ‘Senator, what can you do?’ / But my dear Senator / You sold your soul to AIPAC too.” I generally tend to avoid writing songs that make topical references, but the thing about this song is that, unfortunately, the specific references he’s making aren’t just relevant to present times and can be applied generally. Many people, I’m sure, can relate to the theme this song explores, especially given the onslaught of horrendous current events we’re living through: Feeling world sick, and moreover, like there’s nothing you can do to actually help or improve anything. We’re told to vote, to make our voices heard at the polls, but the collective consciousness in America, it seems, is coming to the sobering realization that most, if not all, of our elected officials do not, or will not, follow through on supporting their constituents who voted them into office because they’re compromised and bought out by money-hungry, ethically void entities.
It’s tough not to feel desensitized when we’re bombarded every single day by the worst news imaginable. What do you mean our tax dollars are funding a genocide? What do you mean the world is run by a satanic cabal of cannibalistic pedophiles? Bluhm elaborates, “Now I’m scrollin’ down wonderin’ / ‘Why did they die?’ / Some people off to work, off to school / Bombs drop from the sky / A hundred more, a thousand more / People just like me / The only difference / I was born in the land of the free / And I’m sittin’ here / Typing an emotional plea / Where is our humanity / Allowing this to be?” Cynicism is a natural response to an absurd world in which nothing seems to make sense anymore. If we were to time travel and show our younger selves the headlines that have become normalized today, we’d be in disbelief and think, No, that could never happen. Having been born and raised in the ’90s–what retrospectively seems like a golden age, I guess–I remember having some faith that the universe would work itself out. Bluhm sings, “Dusting off my resume / What can I be? / Should I continue coding for this tech company? / Our product’s selling you, selling you / False security / Locking up our neighbors / And doing away with our privacy.” I also remember thinking that I could go to college, get a good, meaningful job, and not only survive but thrive. Alas, the American dream is dead. But at least there’s some solace in music: Watt lays down a tasty bass riff, initiating an instrumental break colored with otherworldly synths, as we take some time to mull over the issues at hand.
After the interlude, Bluhm’s vocals return, pleading, “Senator, Senator.” The repetition at this point in the song serves to highlight the sense of hopelessness and helplessness. It’s not all doom and gloom, though, because there is something empowering about vocalizing the problem, even if we’re currently at a loss for the solution. We’re thinking it through. Bluhm continues, “Now I’m gettin’ dressed wonderin’ / What should I wear? / A pair of sandals, a toga, and some long flowing hair / Give all my stuff away / Now I’m just what I wanna be / A perfect model of the / Modern Christianity.” The sarcastic tone feels appropriate in the all-too-real scenario illustrated by the song. Humor works here, though, because it helps us cope and gives us some much needed reprieve.
The song ends with a final chorus, but with some slight yet poignant changes: “And I’m sittin’ here / Cryin’ an emotional plea / Where is our humanity / Allowing this to be? / I’m making an emotional plea / What is our dark destiny / Allowing this to be.” The music fades out and we’re left in a similar state to where we started, with many questions and little to no answers. But again, there’s power in questioning because we’re challenging what is by asking why it is in order to ultimately change it and push it towards what could be. Not every song needs a happy ending, but I believe there is hope in an artistic expression of hopelessness. Give this head-bopping, thought-provoking single a listen, and see the brand new band Work Crush at their upcoming debut shows!
Work Crush’s social and streaming links:
Buy the single on Bandcamp
-Review written by James Kwapisz
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