Ska-punk has got to really go all out and do something different to catch my attention in 2020, and Limited Joy, the second full-length from Devon Kay and the Solutions, certainly does that. This is Devon Kay from Direct Hit who has been fronting his own band since 2011. I’m pretty familiar with Direct Hit, at least the early stuff, but Limited Joy was my first foray into the ‘Solutions material. I understand that they have evolved away from straightforward pop-punk to a bigger sound, with synths, ska instrumentation and the like. I have to say this record is a pretty innovative, effortlessly charming and energetic slice of ska-pop-punk, dosed up with all the apathy and exhaustion that 2020 brings. Despite the downbeat, nihilistic tone of the record, it leans heavily on these super upbeat hooks and singalong choruses. Indeed, Devon Kay and the Solutions refer to themselves as a power-pop band and that certainly feels the most apt in making sense of the eclectic sounds on the album that dabbles in pop-punk, ska, emo and new wave, but persistently draws on some deep melodies. To say that this record is diverse would be an understatement. There are moments on the album when the songwriting qualities of Jeff Rosenstock comes to mind (and also his older material from Bomb the Music Industry!), while the typical beats of Direct Hit! themselves are found in moments on this record, not least on “Anything At All” that walks that fine line between aggressive and melodic and has a kind of underlying Fest-punk vibe going on, albeit with some fun horn action.

I should probably begin by flagging up the opener “Oh Glorious Nothing”, a standout track which sets the tone for the rest of the album. The hooks are inviting and dynamic here, while I appreciate the neat transitions on the song, something that Devon does on a few occasions on the record. With intercutting horns, synths and crunchy guitars throughout, the song introduces the overarching lyrical themes of the record with the first line, “All I wanted was to feel anything”. The record evokes a profound numbness, disdain at the inevitable slipping away of time and a deep existential crisis; reading the lyrics feels like invading Devon’s brain while he’s daydreaming and pondering life, the universe and everything. On “Oh Glorious Nothing”, Devon ultimately accepts (glorious) nothingness and finds a sort of comfort in eventual oblivion: “If that’s the worst thing that can happen, let it happen”. Indeed, it’s a note that is drawn up on elsewhere, like “Keep Dreamin’” that preaches, “Eat, Sleep & Destroy/ Rebuild when you feel like it/ Accept that you have Limited Joy/ That’ll leave as the weeks become years”. The tragic, nihilistic conclusion drawn on Limited Joy is to simply accept the ultimately meaningless nature of everything and inevitable doom that will surround you for most of your existence.

Following the punchy, hyper-energetic “Anything At All”, the new-wave (ish) “One Horse” is likely to the most divisive track on the album. All heavy synths and auto-tuned vocals, I still can’t decide if this is an over-produced mess or a slice of pop genius. It really is a fine line, isn’t it? While less sure on that side of things, the lyrics are among the most profound and unsettling on the album, as Devon moves to question absolutely everything: “I don’t wanna be here, I don’t be alone/ Love ain’t more than these bodies, much less voices on the phone/ Holding back the thought we may never dance in the great unknown/ How can we really tell that our souls are even our own?”. My jaw half-dropped when I first heard those lines. Following this, the record loses me a little as it goes through the motions somewhat until “252 Brighton Ave” pops up, an energetic and charming number that recalls in equal parts Rancid, Less Than Jake and Flogging Molly, with a memorable chorus: “And all it’s been is a yearning for the Northeastern wind that I never called home”. Those “nanananas” towards the end of the track make me want to dance around like a madman in my room; it’s a concise, toe-tapping blast of ska-punk that is also deeply meaningful, you know? Elsewhere, “His Hearse” is darkly melodic, punchy and tragically sad, that kind of suggests to me Rational Anthem with horns. “Risk Reward”, meanwhile takes the energy down a notch or two, coming off like trumpet-infused revival emo and exploring the constraints of time and notions of ‘forever’. “My Neck is Tired from Holding My Neck Up” follows similar lyrical themes, with habitual, neverending routines seemingly constructed to postpone all of the meaningful stuff and to leave one feeling like a numb shell.

Limited Joy is not a perfect record by any means, but Devon has pursued an ambitious soundscape on this record, one that should be applauded and treasured. It’s certainly the most innovative and diverse ska-punk album that I have heard in a long time; that this is all inter-meshed with an existential breakdown of sorts makes it all the more intriguing.

Check out the album here: https://devonkayandthesolutions.bandcamp.com/album/limited-joy

Dave Brown