In two short years, Toronto-based punk quartet PUP has gone from being one of music’s best-kept secrets to the potential scions of a genre. Their 2014 self-titled debut, all shredded throats and shark-toothed guitars, has won them a slew of fans internationally, and their near-constant touring has helped build upon that mythology. PUP is no longer just a band — they’re now the band, and all eyes were on them for the release of The Dream is Over.
A direct quote from vocalist/guitarist Stefan Babcock’s doctor, the album’s title refers to said doctor’s reaction to Babcock’s hemorrhaging vocal chords — a side-effect of his screaming delivery and a condition that nearly ended PUP prematurely, as the band had to drop off a tour with Modern Baseball or risk Babcock losing his ability to sing entirely. But in typical PUP fashion, The Dream is Over takes lemons and makes lemonade… by squirting them directly into your face.
If PUP’s debut was an introduction to their raw, urgent energy, then The Dream is Over is their thesis statement. Opener “If This Tour Doesn’t Kill You, I Will” channels the soft-loud dynamics of the Smashing Pumpkins, but rather than wallow in their inner darkness as Billy Corgan is wont to do, PUP shouts the words out in triumphant group choruses. It’s self-deprecation as catharsis — recognizing what you don’t like about you, and screaming to get it all out.
“DVP,” the album’s second track, is a raw blast of energy that sets the pace for the remainder of the album: “I don’t give a shit, I just don’t want to die and I don’t want to live,” Babcock sings before leading into the album’s next track, the aptly titled “Doubts.”
On PUP, one of the things that set the band apart from their contemporaries was their musicianship, marked by Babcock and Steve Sladkowski’s jagged dual guitars. The Dream is Over sees the pair getting more assured in their experimentation, with songs like “Sleep in the Heat” and “Can’t Win,” which offer up the type of sharp, spiraling riffs that young shredders will be trying to replicate for years to come. And “Pine Point,” the album’s dark, looming closer, is a mix of dark lyrical laments and grungy, downtempo instrumentation that makes it an excellent spiritual sequel to PUP’s “Yukon.”
Two years — that’s all it’s taken for PUP to go from being a semi-obscure punk rock group to a band that’s on the precipice of stardom. In fact, PUP’s label — SideOneDummy — has seen this happen before, back when then-signees The Gaslight Anthem released The ’59 Sound in 2008. But unlike Gaslight, who have always been overshadowed by their Springsteenian tendencies, there is no basis of comparison for PUP. There is no band like PUP, really. They’re atypical, unpredictable and necessary; in short, they’re the type of band modern rock has long been looking for, and The Dream is Over is their shot at immortality.