REVIEW: The Sound a Body Makes When It’s Still – Hot Mulligan

Favorite Tracks: Monster Burger and a $5 Beer, And a Big Load, Monica Lewinskibidi, Mix Master Wade on the Beat

The “#1 Hot New Band” Hot Mulligan released their fifth studio album, The Sound a Body Makes When It’s Still on Friday, Aug. 22. The album comes in with 16 tracks spanning over 42 minutes.

Although they have been creating and releasing music for the better part of 10 years now, they broke out of the underground scene into a wider pop punk space with their 2023 release Why Would I Watch.

This album does everything their previous releases have done and more. With ridiculous, sometimes humorous song titles, backed with some of the most depressing lyrical content out there. It seems to be a necessary contradiction in Midwest emo.

This album follows the ebbs and tides of dealing with grief, moving from light and airy melodies to heavy, raw lyrics. We feel and hear the heightened emotions and catastrophic ideologies that come with feeling like it can never get better towards acceptance that we must move on. The contrasting sounds, all backed with equally heavy hitting lyricism resonates with many. It’s a reminder that recovery isn’t linear.

The opening track, Moving to Bed Bug Island sets the tone for what’s to come, although the album’s title serves a similar function. We can never fully remove ourselves from grief, it always comes back to haunt us.

Moving swiftly into the debut single of the album, And A Big Load where we’re confronted with that contrast instantly. And this song does what Hot Mulligan is known best for, catchy riffs and depressing lyrics. Highly listenable music with much darker undertones once you listen closer.

It Smells Like Fudge Axe in Here, and Island in the Sun are both songs rooted deeply in paranoia. We’re waiting to see the consequences of our actions, knowing what we did wasn’t right. Remembering every mistake made and ruminating on those until the outcome we expect comes to be.

Bon Jonah keeps a similar sound to Island in the Sun but it feels like we start regaining consciousness. Maybe all of the dwelling on the outcome is all in our heads, but how does that make it any better? We’re still grappling with those scenarios, even if it’s entirely of our own creation. This Makes Me Yummy follows, an instrumental with themes of hope and reconciliation.

Quite possibly the most ridiculously and chronically online title on the album, Monica Lewinskibidi brings us back to the dwelling and grieving we were experiencing earlier in the album. Time still passes, even when we aren’t present. Even from “half a world away” you’re missing opportunities and connections with those you love. Milan Minute takes us back to reality though, standing as a reminder that we have affected others positively in the spaces we inhabit.

Cream of Wheat of Feet Naw Cream of (feat.) brings us to the title lyrics “Hold your brеath, the sound a body makes when it’s still” and stands as an acknowledgement of things getting worse. Mix Master Wade on the Beat brings us back to the earlier themes of the album; realizing we’re obsessing over outcomes that have yet to happen. Even after the growth we’ve made from the start of the album, we still doubt ourselves.

We start to slow back down and return to the melancholy theme of the album with This Makes Me Yucky. Haunting spoken word over lighter instrumentals are the focus of this song, and it directly contradicts This Makes Me Yummy. It’s a reminder that nothing really matters. We define ourselves by our moments of weakness and dwell on those. But in the end “Nothing you did made any difference.” Whether that’s a hopeful or hopeless ideology to have is up to the listener.

Monster Burger and a $5 Beer is the most reminiscent of Hot Mulligan’s previous successes. Painting grotesque imagery to get a point across. It has everything we think of when remembering a Midwest emo song – glittery guitar solos, twinkly riffs, repetitive themes, and heavy symbolism.

The album closes out with My Dad Told Me to Write a Nice One for Nana, which in my opinion is the perfect endcap to this LP. We’re let go with a more serious song title and a sound to match it. Although it is laced with depressive tones, we are finally letting go of the immense grief that comes with losing someone. We may not be the same afterwards, but we’ve reached the final stage of acceptance.

Hot Mulligan has mastered the art of making a highly listenable album with devastating lyricism and themes. Only listening to the notes played will leave you feeling hopeful, while reading the lyrics is soul crushing. They make you confront the feelings we often repress, whether we’re grappling with the loss of someone through death or just the passage of time and evolution of character.

I don’t know how often I’ll be able to confront this album, but I foresee it being one I return to as I grieve what once was in my life. It might be a bit too depressing to stream repetitively on my commute to work, but that’s not how albums should be critiqued or judged. This LP reminds me of past versions of myself and the idea of nothing truly mattering, whether that’s for better or worse in this world. It’s oddly hopeless, yet it reminds me there is still more to see out there.