The Front Bottoms have a constant tangent of songwriting that travels varying avenues that feel more grounded than most rock and pop songs that value love and relationships as this emotionally gripping fairytale-like compound that needs to get expressed in various ways. Best described as a blend of folk rock, indie pop, and alternative rock, The Front Bottoms have kept their presence afloat with songwriting and tracklist construction; throughout the years of listening, ever rarely did I feel an album’s transition felt stagnated, despite not every song gliding seamlessly through the air with greatness. Their newest album, You Are Who You Hang With, brings introspection through unique narratives that focus more on being and understanding instead of lamenting over oversaturated themes like love or partying. Here, The Front Bottoms are letting themselves feel as free as ever, weaving together genres and creating this outlandishly grand venture that feels slightly philosophical without intention but packs a punch when it’s all said and done. Unfortunately, You Are Who You Hang With comes with a few missteps, most of which come from these diversions from the production’s core to emphasize aspects of the vocal performance that frankly doesn’t need it.

Opening with “Emotional,” I knew what I was in for, especially being a fan over the past decade – it’s that Jersey bias, maybe – what I ended up loving was everything until the final 20 seconds or so before the vocal performance to add these weird auto-tune element that feels more like provocative art without having much meaning. Fortunately, it’s one of these rare moments that feel out of the loop, but they can become an afterthought. It makes the music easily digestible as it rarely aims to get overly artistic for the sake of and instead grounding itself with the core production that wavers while retaining similar depth, like how the piano and drums bring the personality to an otherwise standard Alt-Punk-Rock like flare of “Outlook.” Like the writing, Brian Sella is continuously creative with how he projects himself through the content of the music. Adding constant relativity isn’t just another variation of the same thing from previous tracks. With “Emotional” and “Outlook,” the music speaks on the passing of time and growth, making the taboo feel antiquated to normality, like that of being overly emotional with the formal or pushing authenticity with “Fake Gold,” you’re in for something unique direct.

For The Front Bottoms, they aren’t the first to go out and create an album with layers that tackle more than one theme or element, foreboding the expected with the expected; this time, the density increases. It’s nowhere near the phenomenal “Talon of the Hawk,” as even some writing isn’t as potent as the performance, “Paris” being one of two examples with its chorus being drab and slightly inaudible, and “Batman,” which takes the fun to levels of tomfoolery as Brian Sella brings a parallel with Batman as his indecisiveness and vocal deliveries seems to mirror inflections of a brooding character who doesn’t want to feel fully seen, except amongst his bandmates. He takes the perspective of someone who shares this connection with Batman, but as with the writing, there is a disconnect between reality and fiction. As Sella would sing in the pre-chorus, “I couldn’t get it to look this good with all the editing in thе world/I couldn’t get it to feel this real if you werе in love and I was your girl,” where realism is far from their grasp in a one-way street. As sung in the outro, “Truth is, I have always been/Sort of an embarrassment/The more you give, the worse it gets,” furthering that idea. It’s these bits that make listening worthwhile.

“Batman” is unique when looking at the bigger picture, especially as you notice great tangential moments that define notions of being, like seeing time fly by or letting your rage out harmoniously like on “Punching Bag,” where the resentment and anger are then predicated and shifted toward a punching bag, and as Brian Sella would sing, “You feel better, that’s the point” repeatedly in the chorus, like he’s sighing at how simple it gets compared to criticizing those around you who had nothing to do with these emotions. Sometimes, it’s harder than it seems. It’s unlike “Not Joking,” where Sella laments the life of an artist and its stressors, but more importantly, how the battle gets ingrained as he keeps tackling it and succeeding exponentially. Sella would sing, “Always only doing it for the room/Like I was born to entertain,” letting us know the music flows through him and he doesn’t masquerade as something different, which is beautifully expressed later on “Fake Gold.” It speaks to his style, his form natural to him, without feeling this need to be something they’re not, a sentiment relayed in “Batman” as well. Sella has this fourth wall understanding, where he keeps it loyal without treading into overly poppy territory for mass radio play or streams.

What truly holds the album together is the production. There is a seamless connection between different tones, and letting Sella easily transition from singing to more sing-talking and playing with different melodies. I’m left glued to the unique string orchestration on “Paris,” which amplifies the bass and guitars into this melodic dream. It’s not as extensively lavish as it is centered and focused, never letting a strum feel like it got played sheepishly, and it further makes You Are Who You Hang With a great album. It’s a significant trip that truly shines on what makes The Front Bottoms such a fantastic band with their own niche that doesn’t feel half-baked. It has awareness and depth, sometimes corny with its allusions, but wholeheartedly it is one sick journey I truthfully recommend.