Monday 7/6: BOYO—"Forget It"
Today, we share our thoughts on a new track by the L.A. songwriter BOYO.
Welcome to Endless Scroll, the brainchild of Eli Enis (he/him) and Eric Bennett (they/them). Since Feb. 2019, we’ve been a weekly podcast about music, the internet, and where those two things intersect. Now we’re, also a M-F newsletter about songs. Our format is simple: a link to a song and a short take from each of us about what we think of it. Each day of the week has a corresponding genre: Monday is indie, Tuesday is punk, Wednesday is hip-hop, Thursday is pop, and Friday is misc.
Today, we share our thoughts on a new track by the L.A. songwriter BOYO.
BOYO—“Forget It”
Eli Enis:
For the majority of his new album, Where Have All My Friends Gone?, the L.A. artist BOYO found a clever way of melding Elliott Smith-indebted gloom with sweltering fuzz-pop. The record is full of songs that feel like existential tug-of-wars between snappy power-pop and melancholy indie-rock, but its second-to-last song does something a bit different. “Forget It” begins as a woozy ballad in the vein of Beach Music-era Alex G and then about halfway through it suddenly jolts into screaming shoegaze leads and a much more propulsive rhythm. Out of the zillion contemporary artists making this kind of hazy, emotionally drained indie-rock, BOYO manages to stand out and “Forget It” is evidence as to why.
Eric Bennett:
On their new record Where Have All My Friends Gone?, BOYO takes a hard look at how serious health episodes can fundamentally shift everything comfortable in one’s life, and does so while building interesting soundscapes. The project of musician Robert Tilden, BOYO’s brief ascent to notoriety was cut short by an undiagnosed brain condition. “Forget It” lives near the end of side B and is full of grandeur and gristle. Tilden’s voice glides over a tangled collection of screeching guitars and sighing synths. While there are certainly more accessible and more polished tracks on the record, “Forget It”, ironically enough, is instantly memorable. He sounds frustrated at its start and reposed by its end, as if he worked through a specific trauma in the duration. For the full effect, spend some time with the song (and the album) with headphones on while locked in your room.