"Songs from Big Pleasant" by Big Pleasant (Inter-Review)

Happy Friday!  We are BACK and BETTER than EVER!  “Songs from Big Pleasant” is the debut album from the band Big Pleasant, based in Catskill, New York, and consisting entirely of Brian McCue and only Brian McCue.  Big Pleasant is a DIY indie-rock artist that uses a wide array of sounds to tell the story of a town called Big Pleasant.  Every song serves an overlapping narrative on this concept album.  “Songs from Big Pleasant” was released on June 13th 2025, it holds fourteen tracks, and clocks in at just over thirty-eight minutes.  I would really love for everyone to give this album a listen (or twenty), and share with a friend (or twenty) and THEN come back and read this review.  Form your own thoughts and feelings about the songs before gaining any external bias from my personal interpretations.  Okay, I’ll wait… 

Have you listened yet?  I’m still waiting… 

Please??? 

Okay good, let’s jump in.

Speaking for the Trees:

Alright, listen up.  I have had countless conversations with Brian about this album privately, and there is so much to unpack about the concept that I was having an intensely hard time trying to figure out where to begin with reviewing these works.  I might change my mind halfway through this write-up and ultimately be scatterbrained and all over the place, but for right now I think I have decided to just review each song as an individual, without trying to unpack the broader picture.  Here and there, I’m sure I’ll mention some throughlines and recurring themes, but for now, let’s take it one song at a time.  “Speaking for the Trees” is a song written by and for The Lorax.  That is all.  Okay, fine, you got me; I’m kidding (sort of).  Try and listen to this song without thinking about The Lorax, alright?  The song opens with a fuzzy rhythm guitar and a spacey lead riff that is very easy-listening.  Brian’s vocals fit in perfectly with this tone as the narrating character of this song preaches and pleads to be heard by the housing and planning committee of Big Pleasant.  This character is recounting a premonition they had, warning of the dangers of cutting down the trees and what Big Pleasant would become if the chopping ensued.  These warnings suggest the excess of fast food restaurants, a symbol of mass consumerism, and implies that a failing environment will lead to a broken, failing society.    

“I had a vision of the future in a dream,

it was cutting down trees to build a fast food restaurant,

it was filled with freaks and dope fiends,

it was a warning of these things”

Giving the song title meaning, this character communicates with the trees in this dream, and the trees politely ask to be left alone and given peace.  

and when i talked with these trees they said

‘Please, don’t remove me’

and when i talked with these trees they said 

‘Let us be, man, let us be.’ “

These anthropomorphic trees take on sentience and speak like stereotypical “hippie tree-huggers” with the inclusion of casually implementing the word “man” into their sentence structure.  I love the idea that these trees are just really chill dudes, because trees probably would be pretty chill dudes.  I think the choice to use “man” in the lyrics “let us be man, let us be” could also have a broader, double meaning, directing this at both the person listening as well as mankind as a whole.  The goal is to have the town of Big Pleasant respect the trees as living entities that must be protected and viewed with empathy.  They promote and provide  scenery, a healthy environment, a community, and spiritual, emotional, and physical well-being.  After the final lyric, performed in spoken word, “so let ‘em be”, there is a break from the instrumental and features a sound clip of the wind and birds chirping for a moment before the lead guitar plays its final few repetitions and the song comes to a close.  This opening track is a short introduction to the album, to lightly dip your toes into the world of Big Pleasant.  It is a beautiful sounding song and lyrically, though short, it has a lot to say and is extremely relatable for many people, especially in this terrifying environmental crisis we have been in the midst of for some time now.  Overall, I really enjoy this track and I appreciate that all of the songs on this album are able to stand on their own without requiring more context.  

The Aspidistra:

Track two opens with a very pretty acoustic guitar and steady drumbeat alongside the vocals starting immediately.  Based on the beginning lyrics, 

“you said you had a weird dream about me

couldn’t elaborate but i sorta got what you mean

but what’d you mean?”

I chose to interpret this song as an alternative perspective of song one, this time from the POV of the trees themselves.  I take this song as the trees acknowledging the dream of forewarning, and proceeding to reminisce on their life and, specifically, early years.  

“when i was hiding behind the aspidistra

back when i was still exciting

back when i was something new”

I’ll confess, I’m not a plant guy, I don’t know anything about plants or their names or how to keep them alive, nothing at all.  So of course, I needed to research what an aspidistra is (I am embarrassed, but now I know).  I imagine these lyrics are talking about a newly-planted, soon-to-be tree that is yet to grow larger than even an aspidistra plant.  The tree is still fresh, full of life and potential; and it was most likely planted by someone in the community of Big Pleasant in the past, and now in the present day it is fully-grown and begging to be admired as it once was.  Begging to be left alone to thrive and continue serving its purpose.  “I can’t help it if i grow towards the light.”  Oftentimes, there are metaphors about living in the shadows of a large tree, however I think this is an intentionally ironic role-reversal of the small tree living in the shadow of the aspidistra, something more vibrant, compact, and decorative. 

“I know that I'm not what you want

naked behind the houseplant

I know you got dreams and big plans

it’s you without me and I understand”

This ending stanza goes back to my theory of the trees speaking directly to someone; now that the tree is tall and large, it is taking up too much space, casting shadows on all that is below and surrounding it, and as the lumberjacks come to cut it now and remove it, it submits.  It is defenseless to stop the inevitability of its death despite the longevity that would still remain if left untouched.  Perhaps, this is the first step of the town’s big plans to start building new commercial businesses and fast-food restaurants.  

The Seagulls:

Track three, “The Seagulls”, was the second single released for this album on June 6th, 2025.  This song takes on a feel-good vibe with some romantic, even sexual, undertones.  It is not painfully explicit in that vein, I think it strikes a comfortable balance between interpersonal romance and romanticizing life, the universe, and all the small things that are taken for granted.  A recurring lyrical structure revolvings around “it’s not against the law…” or “it is not yet illegal…” followed by things like watching the clouds, sitting on the ground, and making a call.  I really love this song and its admiration for simplicity, enjoying nature, and finding joy in, what some might call, mundane activities.  The instrumentals give off a very dreamy, atmospheric style, but the lyrics are really what catches my focus.  

“It’s not against the law to enjoy the clouds

and it wouldn’t be illegal to kiss me hard on the mouth

behind the sacred pine or at your sister’s house

it is not yet illegal to enjoy the clouds”

Between the instruments, the vocals, and the lyrics themselves, this song gives a beautiful feeling of Spring (when it’s not pouring) or Summer (when it’s not a billion fucking degrees) and it is very comforting.  It kind of reminds me of how it felt to be a child; limited perspective and fresh perceptions of life and being constantly in awe.  It is important to acknowledge the little things in life, like looking at the clouds or the intense levels of dopamine that rush through your body when experiencing a first kiss.  

“and I guess it’s just how you look at me

like I’m overgrown… like I'm a wild thing…

and I guess it’s sorta just how you look at me

doing the do-si-do, like I'm some wild thing…

and I guess it’s sorta just when you look at me

I hear a loud trombone… I hear the angels sing…

guess it’s sorta just how you look at me

I am the parts unknown… I feel the ground stirring…”

This whole section, with the repetition of “when you look at me”, does a great job with these alternating perspectives.  It revolves around how someone views somebody else, as well as how that somebody interprets and internalizes these perceptions of themself.  I love the word choice of “overgrown” that somewhat ties in this consistent acknowledgement and reference to plants and nature.  What is probably my favorite part of this whole chunk is “I hear a loud trombone, I hear the angels sing”.  I think it is an interesting contradiction, or maybe not even a contradiction; when I think of a trombone, I think of a big, heavy, loud, somewhat abrasive (sometimes obnoxious) sound (not quite as bad as a tuba, but hopefully you understand the point I’m getting at) vs. angels singing, I would imagine a beautiful chorus of soft, comforting, maternal, airy, and heavenly voices.  However, to keep in mind the concept of alternative perspectives and keeping our minds open to seeing things in a different light, I don’t think the beauty of a trombone or the beauty of angels singing need to be mutually exclusive.  Despite a common, default interpretation, maybe these two things actually aren’t a juxtaposition.  I’d say, overall, my favorite stretch of this song is the ending with the lyrics, 

“It’s not yet against the law to have nothing to say but still call you up

I just called you up just to tell you that i just can’t get by here without you

so I just called you up just to tell you about the seagulls in my eyes and the sky blue”

It really does reiterate, for me, that this is written from the perspective of an adolescent, or someone who is tapping into their sense of childlike wonder and whimsy.  Someone who is trying to step aside from the struggles and hard times that come with being an adult, in a world that preys on the downfall of people in order to make more money for the overlords through whatever means necessary; they can’t stop us from finding things to enjoy.  They can’t take away our relationships with the planet or each other.  Seagulls can often represent freedom or adaptability; I think freedom plays a role in not letting the bigger picture fog up the minute details, once you let go of what you’re “supposed” to do, or what the world demands you do, and you start doing things for yourself and your own enjoyment, you are free from the shackles of society, because ultimately life is too short to play this “I’m miserable making no money at my 9-to-5 and selling my soul to corporations” game.  

The Blackened Ooze and the Little Birds too…:

The fourth song on this album gives a Halloween-y vibe, even the title itself can somewhat suggest that on its own.  There are spacey and atmospheric whirrings throughout the instrumentals, some sounds that sound ghostly or extraterrestrial.  This song takes on dark and spooky imagery while still bringing in some consistency of recurring themes and references, most obviously: birds.  I’ll be honest, I will always be the first to admit when I’m wrong, ignorant, naive, or anything along those lines.  I actually LOVE to admit when I’m wrong (probably some off-shoot of my self deprecating tendencies), so I will gladly be up front and say “I have absolutely no idea what this song is about or what it is trying to say!” and that’s OKAY!  Sometimes the sound of music speaks to people even if they aren’t consciously aware of why or what the song is specifically about.  On the flip side, sometimes songs just aren’t about anything at all and their sole purpose is to sound cool or catchy or whatever it may be.  This song, I have no idea what it is about.  I know that it reminds me of the Goosebumps books and show, and I know that that is just about all I know.  However, is that going to stop me from reviewing this track?  HECK NO!  Most of this album is actually a little bit lost on me;  of course I’ll have my own interpretations and certain things will stand out to me specifically, whether they’re important details or not, and for whatever reason that may be.  Every time I have worked with Brian in any capacity, he is always very eager to lend a helping hand and explanations and we always have very deep and thorough discussions about everything, which is greatly appreciated.  But, my job here is not to regurgitate the artist’s interpretation of the songs I’m reviewing, my job is to tell you how incredible the work is, even if sometimes I’m not an absolute expert on the subject.  Anyway, blah blah blah all out of the way, don’t hate me for misinterpreting this song to an incredible degree while we go through the lyrics.  

“Something black was oozing from the coffin,

your gang of little birds was swooning and swooping overhead,

so I awoke that morning feeling awful,

elk in the spotlight,

taking my first steps towards that muddled thing that dreams portend,

I just shove my face in the sand”

Alright, let me do my best to unpack this first stanza.  The whole song gives a nightmarish feeling, and in this fictional town of Big Pleasant, most things have been pretty grounded in reality thus far.  But, being on only track four, we can’t entirely rule out that black ooze coming from a coffin is not a common sight to see in this world.  Having said that, I do believe this is more of a nightmare used for metaphor than it is a literal recounting of events, wouldn’t you agree?  The “your”, referenced in “your gang of little birds…”, I am not sure who that is supposed to be directed at or represent.  The little birds, because they are not specifically named in this song, could be any type of bird, more or less.  Maybe the specificity doesn’t actually matter and I’m just going way in depth, but I told you I didn’t understand this song and I’ll be damned if I don’t go off the deep end trying to figure it out!  My first reaction, based solely on the imagery of death, would suggest that these birds are vultures, circling over a dead body.  Vultures are definitely not known for being “little”; maybe “little” as a word choice could be tongue-in-cheek, perhaps?  Let’s keep trying.  Continuing with the ghoulish tones, a spooky and little bird could be a raven or a crow, that would certainly fit in with the information we have.  If we want to cross-reference with previous songs, we could also try to argue that these birds are the seagulls, but I don’t feel very confident about that interpretation, it feels very out of place and doesn’t make much sense to me in this context.  They could even be cardinals, as a symbol for comfort when someone has passed away.  Like I mentioned earlier, maybe the type of bird is ENTIRELY MEANINGLESS!  Maybe it is just generic, default birds that are doing what birds do, paying no mind to the devastation below them.  The following line mentions waking up, so I feel justified in believing the opening lyrics were referencing a dream that has really affected this character emotionally and psychologically.  “Elk in the spotlight” is a play on “deer in headlights”, I’m assuming the metaphor or implication is this character is disheveled, confused, and frightened by the poor quality of sleep they had.  This next line stumped me for a good bit, but I think I’ve come up with an interpretation that I’m happy with, but who knows.  “Taking my first steps towards that muddled thing that dreams portend”.  I think these first steps are both literal and metaphorical in a sense;  this character has gotten out of bed and their feet have made contact with the floor, first steps of the day, while the “muddled thing that dreams portend” might represent life itself.  This character may be struggling with the burden and anxiety of existence, not to mention the nightmares, and is hesitant to engage with the world out of fear for what awful omen could reveal itself next.  I think that is also complemented by the following line “I just shove my face in the sand”, not wanting to hear, see, speak, or engage at all with what the day has in store for them.  Kind of like going back to sleep when I day instantly feels ominous, or hiding under the blankets from a monster in your closet.  I also think that line is a play on “dig my heels in the dirt”, which is a way of showing persistence, determination, and stubbornness, whereas this line is quite the opposite.  They are not determined to take on life and deal with it all in a brave and strong way, they’re going to ignore it.  (I just googled “shove my face in the sand” and apparently, in slightly different words, that is already an existing idiom that I have somehow never in my life heard before now, but my interpretation was still accurate so I’ll take that small victory, despite accidentally and unnecessarily padding the word count of this review)

“But by the grace of god and low achievement,

all blackened grass, insurance paid out what was owed,

your face a mask,

and outside that church of good intentions,

of broken things and lonely distance people waiting on a second chance,

I held your face

I just held your face in my hands”

In between these two stanzas of lyrics, we have a really nice lead guitar accompanied by distant “ba ba ba”s that make a very memorable instrumental portion of the song.  The grace of God is paired with low achievement, I’m not sure if this is unrelated to the previous stanza or if it goes hand in hand along the lines of burying their head in the sand and not engaging, leading to minimal effort and miniscule achievements, if any.  The church of good intentions is really interesting because it could be flipping on its head the quote “the road to hell is paved with good intentions”, meaning good intentions can only go so far if actions still lead to negative outcomes.  This world that is being described is desolate, decaying, and feels distant or detached.  At this “church of good intentions” there are people seeking redemption, healing, and forgiveness.  The act of holding someone’s face in your hands is indicative of love, comfort, care, and maybe even mourning or grief, possibly even suggesting an intimate physical connection that is used as a wake up call.  I think these ending lines could also be used similarly as in previous songs, the theme of making interpersonal connections amongst all the chaos.  What specifically comes to mind is in “The Seagulls” with the lyrics “it wouldn’t be illegal to kiss me hard on the mouth” and “it’s not yet against the law to have nothing to say but still call you up”.  Really a fantastic track with a fascinating and unique vibe.  

little birds: 

This song opens with a subtle swelling partnered with the sounds of birds.  A slow opening but with an incredibly impactful sound. The instrumentation fully immerses you in a dreamlike soundscape, the lyrics come in slightly somber but equally as dreamy.  Starting on a physical note with “heart a-thrumb at the way your voice sounds”, you get the idea of this experience being emotional and comforting, as if the person that is being talked about is a soothing presence to the narrator.  This idea is furthered by “humming lullabies to put the sun down” being sung next. The lyric “through a window that won't open” implies this separation, whether emotional, physical, or simply the separation of time between when these events happened and when this memory is being shared. Even though there is this separation and divide, the writer still feels the comfort and presence of this person with the final line of this stanza “your song still rings out”.  The second stanza gives us a quick change to emotional exhaustion, perhaps the reason the writer is recounting these memories in the first place. Starting with “ and really who can explain? All these patient day to days”, questioning how anyone can cope with the monotony of day to day life. And then using the idiom “in for a penny, in for a pound” to say that they just have to keep going, even though it’s difficult, whether just with life or with an emotional entanglement. We are then introduced to the “little bird”, representing the memory of this comfort person. There is imagery of “crooked branches” evoking a sense of instability and fragility lurking in the background. The phrase “stomach hurts, anxious nerves” takes the listener out of the metaphor momentarily and gives a look into the physical symptoms being felt from the situations surrounding this memory. Then ending this stanza with “little bird, little…” trailing off and suggesting a loss of presence in the moment, perhaps reverting to the comfort of the first memory. With the third stanza, we shift to more specific memories and move away from the memories of general comfort that provide a reprieve to the writer. This stanza continues the dreamlike feel, not going into deep specifics and leaving it up to the listener’s interpretation. Throughout this stanza we follow the writer through different physical places as well as places in time. The writer explains how this person was their “comforting presence” through the different thresholds of life, how they were an anchor in reality when it was too much, “I felt your hand like a comforting presence, I cowered through a failed convalescence, and when she died I felt alright”. The writer is walking us through this experience with detachment and a resistance to sentimentality that is sharp and honest. In the second to last stanza we really get a look into how the writer feels. Starting with “a broken wing”, injured and in need of this care and comfort that they have come to know.  Seeing someone who once was their comfort now with their innocence behind them, “a nest of white little birds peeking over your shoulder”, still doing all they can to be that reprieve for them “picking through a box from the smolder every frame a double exposure”, and having all of their memories overlap with reality, leaving grief and love to linger.  Finishing the stanza with “your love at every turn, every turn” allows the listener to know that this love is omnipresent and these memories are around every corner, and even when it isn't physical, it will remain in memories. Then ending the song with the repetition of “little birds…” puts these memories on an ever-present loop in the writer's mind, flooding their soul with the ebbs and flows of comfort, grief, anxiety, and trauma. This echoing of experiences that bring comfort and love spliced with the reality of their mourning gives a look into how life in this moment is like the double exposed frames, reality and memories playing simultaneously reliving and living at the same time. 

Me and You Decapitator:

This track has a lot to unpack, from historical to fictional references, and all the poetry in between.  The first stanza places the narrator and an unnamed “you” together and draws parallels to how they may relate to “Persephone and dogtooth” and “smug Henry or Anne Bolelyn”.  In Greek mythology, Persephone is the goddess of spring, and becomes queen of the underworld after she is abducted by and forced to marry Hades.  This reference gives a theme of entrapment.  I think there is something to be said about being the goddess of spring, and then being dragged to a literal hellscape; once being in charge of the blooming beauty of nature in the spring, now forced to live in a desolate, dark, depressing place against your will.  Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t think the underworld is known for their flower gardens.  Dogtooth is something I wasn’t familiar with whatsoever, and all I was able to dig up in my research was a movie with that title; a greek absurdist film about a family living in isolation, parents trying to shelter their children from the outside world via fabricating their kids’ reality.  Smug Henry refers to King Henry VIII and, of course, Anne Bolelyn.  Anne was Henry’s second wife, after he sought an annulment from his first wife.  Henry eventually set his eyes on another new woman, and was displeased with Anne’s inability to provide him a male heir; because of this, Henry had Anne arrested and beheaded.  Each pairings from these first few lyrics represent destructive relationships, all along the lines of captor/captive, monarch/martyr, and oppressor/oppressed.  The second stanza seems to be about the ridicule that could come from yearning for love and tenderness, especially after a long stint of violence.  I think this song gives a great representation to what it feels like when you are in the grasp of an abusive or toxic relationship.  Like Stockholm syndrome, one party in the relationship is manufacturing a trauma that allows for a trauma bond, making the two people involved feel closer and more connected, and cripplingly codependent.  “Take off my head and kiss me, for every hell that I undo” is an interesting line.  If we are going strictly off the metaphor of Anne Bolelyn, then clearly “take off my head” is a reference to her.  However, the following lines gave me some trouble in decoding and coming to my own interpretation, specifically “for every hell that I undo”.  I’m still not completely settled on an opinion for this, but I believe this might suggest that this relationship is not as black and white as I may have originally believed.  I think all relationships and interpersonal troubles have nuance, and rarely is there a definitive answer to which person is the problem entirely.  A lot of times, two individually toxic people can enter a relationship and be toxic together, to each other.  I had to stop myself for a moment because I started to second guess myself again, and I fear I started rambling on about a point that isn’t actually relevant to my theory, but who knows?  I sure don’t.  I have no idea what I’m talking about whatsoever.  Anyway, take my word vomit with a grain of salt.  There may be some suggestions of ridicule for someone continuing to stay in an abusive relationship, despite (what outsiders would view as) clear red flags and signs to get out fast.  I’m still struggling with what “every hell that I undo” is saying.  I clearly have a lot of thoughts about it but can’t quite pin it down.  I’m pretty confident that the hell or hells in question are referring to the toxicity in the relationship, all the arguments and fights or any other dark times that couples face.  I’m not as positive about the undoing, but I think it could be possible ignorance, in the sense of ignoring all the bad aspects and waiting until it eventually leads to the good.  Like you have to deal with being beheaded before you can be kissed.  Or, I guess, in simpler terms, you can’t get a rainbow without the rain.  I don’t think Brian is suggesting this as any sort of advice to follow, I think we are purely living in the mentality and perspective of someone who is in this unfortunate scenario.  Obviously, if you are experiencing an abusive relationship, you should do everything in your power to keep yourself safe.  Okay this stanza kicked my ass, I’m done rambling, I’m moving on.  You can try to make sense of the nonsense I just spewed for hundreds of words.  

“And what could I say?

I was half in love

I was puzzled by the glut of spontaneous exciting action

half the thrill of it

is knowing that it still persists” 

I think this finale really brings it home by showcasing that the oppressed party in the relationship is “choosing” (I say with some level of sarcasm) to stay because they have been conditioned to sift through hell in order to experience the positives, though they will most likely be few and far between.  But I think the narrator is, at least on some level, aware of this.  They speak somewhat tongue-in-cheek; I’m specifically pointing to “I was half in love”.  I think these two people may be the types that live for chaos; the type of people that get bored when things are too easy or too healthy, they long for the struggle and the high intensity to feel something; I get this feeling from the final lyrics “half the thrill of it is knowing that it still persists”.  The end is ambivalent and somewhat detached, knowing that the thrill is in allowing it to continue, even if you are only half in it.  You know it will still go on as long as you choose to let it, no matter how much you actually put in.  

Serling’s Comet: 

This song begins with a bassy and trembling acoustic guitar, shortly followed up with some airy and tired vocals.  “A low level panic

when I saw you at the store

turns out it was some stranger

just a ghost and nothing more”

This stanza sets an emotional tone immediately with feelings of grief, disassociation, and sonder.  The panic is a persistent background noise, something that is always there droning on and on, causing paranoia and second-guessing at almost every moment. It is not used for dramatization or to be a spectacle, but, in fact, recognizing a stranger as a lost person is a classic trauma response.  The idea of them being a ghost can be attributed to infinite interpretations; something that has faded or disappeared, something that is no longer what it used to be, something that is abstract and intangible slipping from our grip, and on and on and on.  As the second stanza arrives, so do some more elaborate and strange sounds coming from a synth and lead acoustic guitar.  As the narrator becomes more overwhelmed, confused, and anxious, the music continues to swell and drone, mimicking how this character is most likely feeling through all the brain fog.    

“Heard you had a couple babies

what grateful little snails they must be!

I’m still living in the trailer park

wondering why’d you send their Christmas cards to me?”

A direct continuation, without any breaks in between stanzas, the narrator continues internally speaking to this hypothetical stranger.  The narrator has fallen behind, feeling stagnant, whereas this person they are imagining has progressed, grown, and made a life for them.  Effectively, making this new version of them a stranger to the narrator they once knew.  As some imaginary small talk initiates, we learn that this past person now has kids and a new life; regardless of how much time has passed, the narrator is still being controlled by their trauma involving this other person.  In just one line, you learn so much about the current state and dynamic of these people: “wondering why’d you send their Christmas cards to me?”  Presumably, this person has moved on and done the work on themselves to let go of any negative feelings and rise from the ashes of these past experiences.  They feel so far removed from that time, and hold no malice, that they feel comfortable sharing a slice of life with this person via a simple christmas card of their family.  But to the narrator, someone who has not successfully gone through those hurdles of self-improvement, most likely sees this as a kick when they’re down, salt in the wound, a cruel reminder that they are not where they want to be in life.  I’d like to include a quick sidenote here to exemplify how I tend to overanalyze and dig too deep when doing these reviews.  I messaged Brian privately to address certain tidbits of this album that I wanted clarification or more insight to.  I really honed in on the word “snails” in the second stanza, and this is how that interaction went: 

I simply could not imagine a better response than this.  Thank you, Brian, for consistently answering my silly questions.  However, despite Brian specifically telling me that there is no legitimate significance to the word “snails”, I will still be bending over backwards to give it a deeper meaning and explanation.  This stanza is full of pain that is masked with some sarcasm.   “Grateful little snails” gives imagery of children being slimy, small, and fragile.  There is an internal struggle of contradiction; on one hand, the narrator wishes they had children together, children that deserve love and protection, but on the other hand, it is almost as if these are some repulsive beings, and the sliminess associated with snails or slugs could be a metaphor for how this opportunity to have kids has slipped through their fingers.  Then, the Christmas cards are emotional landmines, just one more punch in the gut after everything, reminding the narrator of what they no longer have and will never have with that person.  

“dog was hanging in the window

pretty sure he looked at me

outside that time I saw an angel

best thing to happen here in weeks”

The drums kick in with some more fun keyboard work.  In this stanza, there is a shift in mood, somewhat moving away from the bitterness.  A dog is hanging out a window, seeing the narrator is free to roam outside, bearing witness to a possible angel.  Whether this angel is simply religious psychosis, a word choice to describe a happy dog, or simply a real, clear-as-day angel standing outside in Big Pleasant, there is a moment of acknowledging something positive happening, but it is slightly undermined by saying this is the best thing/only good thing that has happened in a notable amount of time.  Either way, this shows the small town malaise and stagnation.  In the final stanza, the narrator is now participating in small acts of petty chaos.   “Slugs inside the mailbox for some loser to find after work” possibly because they recognize that their feelings for a person they lost is unrequited, and that person is still living their life and the sun is still shining for them.  Meanwhile, the narrator is dealing with the trauma and turmoil of not having them around anymore and whatever it is that they went through together.  There is a vibe of “hurt people hurt people” with these causings of chaos in hopes of either self-destructing or destroying everyone and everything else around them.  The instrumentals are a slow burn but ultimately catch up and build upon itself in a beautiful way and a natural progression.  The song ends with the eeriness of analog horror with some old-timey music and obscure dialogue.  “Serling’s Comet” is definitely one that will be remembered off this album.  A fun tidbit of information I’d like to share before we wrap this song up is: “Serling’s Comet” is most likely a reference to Rod Serling, the creator of The Twilight Zone, which is a great nod, especially within the universe of Big Pleasant.  If we want to dig a little deeper on that, there is an episode of The Twilight Zone where a group of astronauts crash on an asteroid, only to find out during the twist ending that the asteroid was actually earth all along.  

Devotion: 

Track number eight is a short one, but I think it does a lot of work with tying together pieces of the town and some of the characters within it.  I love that the very first line is a parallel to the first line of “Serling’s Comet”.  “a low grade fever” from “Devotion” and “a low level panic” from “Serling’s Comet”.  In this song, we meet a new character, Miss McKnight, who will continue to be relevant in the next track as well.  I think, because this song is so short and doesn’t have a ton of lyrics, I’ll type them all out here and we can really simply and quickly go through our interpretations and analysis of the words.  

“A low grade fever

almost killed miss McKnight

hallucinated her old lover

serling’s comet passing by

Sometimes I dream I am a rock dove

I eat the seeds out of your hand

twist my neck, send me to heaven

I’ll fly away at your command

well, what a dream to be devout…”

There is a dark irony within the idea of a minor fever being strong enough to take someone out.  With some context from other songs on the album, we learn Miss McKnight’s first name is Ella, and she is presumably an old, widowed woman.  This illness being so detrimental to her health could be a literal implication of her age catching up to her, or maybe a more poetic reading that after the death of her partner, she is simply ready to use any excuse to reunite with them.  Instead of the cliché “life flashing before her eyes”, she just sees visions of her lover.  Serling’s comet makes a cameo briefly.  In this context, the comet could be interpreted as a beacon of hope, like a shooting star, or a bad omen, like the meteor that killed the dinosaurs.  This song is very interesting because, at first glance, you think “oh good!  Miss McKnight got really sick but she survived!” but if you were to read this from her perspective, it’s probably horribly depressing, like a cruel prank, that she is forced to live another day in this universe, on this planet, in the town of Big Pleasant, desperately pleading to be reunited with her significant other.  I’d like to piggyback off of the Twilight Zone references I brought up during “Serling’s Comet”.  Whether or not this was actually an inspiration for Brian when writing this album, I do think it’s an interesting parallel, at the very least.  In the episode “The Midnight Sun”, a woman named Norma is one of the few remaining people still alive, trying to desperately survive a scorching heat with scarce resources.  By the end of the episode, it is revealed that this was all a fever dream in Nora’s mind.  Obviously, there is a lot more nuance and specifics to this episode, but just as a surface level acknowledgement, I thought that was, in some ways, similar to what Miss McKnight is experiencing.  I’m not quite sure which character would be narrating this song; clearly the first stanza refers to McKnight in the third person, however, I think the second stanza could easily be spoken from Miss McKnight’s perspective.  Still within her fever dreams and hallucinations, she thinks of herself as a rock dove (a wild pigeon), which might be representative of freedom, eternal life, and/or harmony.  As the pigeon, she eats seeds out of hands (presumably the hands that belong to her deceased lover), this represents the trusting bond they once shared.  This could also be a way of, once again, showing a dark irony.  If these hands never held the seed, the rock dove would not be fed, and the rock dove would die.  Devastating that, outside of this fantastical metaphor, the owner of the hands is the one who died.  The rock dove (Miss McKnight) depended on the hand to bring her seed, but the universe will not allow the dove to die, instead it is forced to eternally wander the planes looking for seed elsewhere, doing the bare minimum to keep itself alive, hoping one day to be reunited with the hands the held the seed.     

Dogwood Days:

I hate to gloss over so much of the instrumental stylings on this album, but it’s just one of those things that transcends beyond words; it is, without a doubt, significantly easier for you to simply listen to the music to fully understand and experience the storytelling and atmosphere these sounds create, opposed to trying to make sense of my nonsense ramblings as I try to find words to even remotely capture the essence of these instruments.  If for nothing else, at the very least you will hear some very unique and fun noises.  WELL, ANYWAY, the phrase “dogwood days” is used to refer to a time in Spring when dogwood trees start to blossom.  In Christian beliefs, the dogwood tree can represent rebirth or sacrifice, and in Victorian times, dogwood flowers would be given as a symbol of affection, similar to how we view roses today.  “Dogwood Days” continues on the same trajectory we left off with Miss McKnight in “Devotion”, however I think this may be from the perspective of her late lover.  Before I jump into that, I’d like to acknowledge that every time I sit down at my computer to type more of this review, I argue with myself over whether or not Miss McKnight is also Ella McKnight; they could just be relatives but who knows?  I don’t know anything!  I didn’t write the album!  I’m just one man!  So in my headcanon Miss McKnight is Ella McKnight and her husband is dead and she loves having fever dreams.  Perfect.  I nailed it.  

“you and me

delivered under the dogwood tree

my candle light,

you are the dawn my Ella McKnight”

This could either be a specific, real life memory or a fantasy, encouraging Miss McKnight to go into the light and join her lover as Serling’s Comet approaches Earth.  I love the line “you are the dawn my Ella McKnight”, specifically the choice to use “dawn”.  I think of all the words that could have been used, “dawn” really fits perfectly within the idea of resurrection or rebirth (in the afterlife).  After a long night of darkness and quiet, almost nothingness, here comes the yellows and reds of the sun lighting up the atmosphere, bringing warmth, life, and allowing flowers to bloom.  

“from seed to fruit

we reawaken from under dirt and root

it’s a thunderstorm, it’s a moving town

it’s an elegant, hollow sound”

Wrapping up with the second and final stanza of this song, we can briefly go line-by-line.  I read “from seed to fruit” as an expression of growth, specifically a type of growth that only comes with age; in addition, it could also be making comparisons to their relationship over the years, the initial seed being a first date or their first meeting, growing into a fruit that flowers and thrives.  But ultimately, the fruit either rots or gets eaten or whatever may happen, but regardless of HOW it gets there, it will always return to the soil in this circle of life.  “We reawaken from under dirt and root” they have both completed their first life cycle and now that they have met and become intertwined in this life, they will break through dirt and root in every life.  “It’s a thunderstorm, it’s a moving town”, I think the thunderstorm represents any tumultuous times in their relationship, it can also represent the sadness, grief, and anger that perks up after someone dies, and a thunderstorm is also something that is very scary for a lot of people, like being scared to die is sitting through a thunderstorm; but through rain or shine, old towns or new towns, mortal life or after life, they will always find their way back to each other.  

Daniel Saw an Angel:

The imagery in this song blends the mystical with the mundane, the divine with the disturbed and creates a haunting picture of a spiritual encounter, psychological unraveling, and societal alienation.  Daniel has an epiphany, or so he believes, but it’s more likely just a manifestation of mental illness taking the form of religious awakening.  “started acting strange on dogwood day,

never really was the same” is important to note because Dogwood Day, as we’ve established previously, is a big deal for the town to come together as a community and celebrate the start of Spring and the blooming of the dogwood trees.  This is noteworthy because, on a day of togetherness, Daniel is experiencing delusions and illusions and feelings that are alienating him from the rest of his peers.  Daniel realizes that the space he lives in and occupies feels apocalyptic, it is all false and fake, he is surrounded by “discount saints and the depraved”.  The imagery of people rising from the grave is interesting because usually that visual would look like a zombification of some sort.  The dead are crawling out of the dirt, wreaking havoc and causing chaos.  In this case, the dead rising, the discount saints, and the depraved are all people he knows personally, people he has bumped into on the street, his neighbors, his family even, he is starting to see through the facade and recognizes everyone as the evil entities that they truly are (in his own mind).  The “lousy feeling I can’t name or seem to shake” could be a couple of things.  The first thing is perhaps this switches to Daniel’s point of view, talking about his newfound enlightenment and how he doesn’t love how the “truth” makes him feel.  Or, because the entire song is speaking about Daniel in third person, it would be odd for it to switch to his POV for just one line, so perhaps whoever the narrator is can see and hear Daniel’s doomsday prophecy, and though it can easily be chalked up to a psychotic break of some sort, maybe the narrator does seem some tidbits of truth in it, whether internally or externally, and is not happy with that slight, more down to Earth, realization.  

“Daniel saw an angel

became sure there was a life beyond this one

that there were things outside the worlds of men

that sometimes creep into the worlds of men”

The third stanza is the second time in the song that it is stated “Daniel saw an angel”, however this time around, “wrapped in white apparel” from the first stanza is omitted.  In the first stanza, the angel was viewed as a divine, heavenly entity, whereas now, in the third stanza, it is displayed more as something that can “creep into the worlds of men”.  The implication here is, if we are to believe in a peaceful savior of an angel, then that cannot exist without also allowing for the existence of something dark, sinister, and malicious, literally just the coexistence of devil and angel.  At this point, the idea of an afterlife is no longer comforting to Daniel; he went from an angelic epiphany that was meant for him, specifically, but now he needs to come to terms with the fact that if there is a heaven there must also be a hell.  After seeing the works of devilish ne’er-do-wells negatively impacting the environment and people around Daniel that he loves and cares for, he realizes that these demonic beings have equal to, if not more, power and control over people than even the angels.  Because of this, you can sense the paranoia that was already present, is now starting to fully consume him.  In the fourth stanza, Daniel “started to collect insects, crustaceans, things with shells”, as he sees these demonic forces take over his beloved town, the people he once knew are literally becoming shells of who they once were.  There is something uncanny and strange about everyone and everything post-epiphany.  The choice to “collect” these shells is indicative of his want and need to protect the people around him, but also himself.  Because he was the chosen one, per se, to receive the prophecy, it’s almost as if he was exposed, vulnerable, without a shell, whereas everyone around him had the mask, facade, exoskeleton to keep them sheltered and safe.  Depending how you look at it, maybe the townspeople were the victims after all, or maybe Daniel was actually the only one who was truly safe from being brainwashed and corrupted by evil.  This is the point where Daniel’s paranoia reaches a climax and really exemplifies how severe this case of mental illness is.  As the fourth stanza comes to a close and the final few lines wrap up the song, we stop with the profound metaphors and become entirely literal, snapping us back into reality.  Daniel is considered erratic by everyone around him, and we find out that the narrator of the song is either a loved one, a roommate, or just a neighbor of Daniel, possibly the only one who is still caring for and looking out for Daniel.  As Daniel is having these episodes, his landlord calls the narrator, demanding something be done about Daniel.  It is a very sharp blow, and on some level, feels very relatable.  I think everyone has experienced a time when they felt very strongly about something but no one would take them seriously.  Daniel’s entire fabric of reality is being shredded before his eyes, he is experiencing fear, pain, and unhinged enlightenment to an incredible degree, but the sad truth is the world will continue to move, people will keep going to work, rent will continue to be paid, and people will forever treat Daniel as a burden and inconvenience that needs to be dealt with or, at the very least, tolerated.  

to Victoria, RE: the spoils:    

The opening music of this track sounds just like something I’d expect to hear in some sort of crime drama or police procedural, which is fitting because this song is all about a serious robbery in Big Pleasant.  Underneath the crime‑scene imagery is a critique of greed, desperation, and the promise of “infinite” abundance that always turns sour. It reads like a character unraveling mid‑heist, losing his cool as he tries to take what he thinks he’s owed.  It uses absurdist imagery, biblical and capitalist symbols, and a kind of monologue style to explore what happens when the pursuit of “what’s mine” turns from ambition to delusion.  The narrator is both self-aware and unreliable. He begins with cockiness, confidence, and grit with “I’ve got an old .38 and a note that says ‘money’”.  He seems to want to play the part of the cool, noir antihero. But very quickly, we see cracks in the foundation.  He fumbles, forgets his lines, and loses conviction. By the end, he’s not a criminal but a man drowning in metaphor and myth, unsure of what he really wants or believes.  This gap between the image he wants to project and the reality of his unraveling is central to the emotional and thematic core of the song.  The heist does not just revolve around obtaining money, it’s what the money stands for, what it represents, and what it can do and bring.  it’s “infinite honey,” an “infinite spring,” a “coffin of bills”. These are symbolic resources, not just money but everything the narrator thinks he deserves: comfort, justice, respect, maybe even redemption.  But the money is wrapped in contradictions, it’s sweet and quenching like honey and cola, but it’s also a coffin, a screw inside your head, and a pyramid eye, which are all symbols of death, mental pressure, and conspiracy or power hierarchies.  The song suggests that the dream of endless abundance (advertised by capitalism, religion, media) is truly a destructive mirage. The narrator tries to seize it, but he fumbles, literally and figuratively, it slips through his fingers.  There’s also an emotional core here; this is a song about a man who is not a villain, but someone trying to assert control over a life that feels powerless.  To the heist, he only brings a .38, old and ineffective, a note that says “money”, laughably simplistic, and rehearsed lines, which he forgets.  This makes him sympathetic, if not exactly trustworthy, in a world that expects people to pay life-saving medical bills via GoFundMe, this is an all too common reality.  This is a man trying to rob a bank to feel something, to prove he still has agency, but his tools are metaphors and half-baked philosophies.  He drops the gun, “suavely picks it up in one smooth motion,” and then… does nothing. It’s a loop of gestures without substance. The act is a ritual, not a crime.  It’s as if he is just playing out a fantasy, reenacting a scene from a movie.  This song is a surreal, unsettling portrait of a man, caught between desperation and illusion, trying to steal his way into a better life, but only managing to reveal how hollow his beliefs, tools, and self-image have become.  The final moments feel like the end of a play or monologue, where the character forgets his lines and has to look down at the script again. There’s a meta-awareness in the line “I’ve a little bit forgotten my lines, so I’m checking again with the note and trying to recall…”  This moment makes it clear: this isn’t just a failed robbery, it’s a failed performance of identity, of ideology, of masculinity, of control. The narrator knows he's supposed to want “what’s mine,” but when the time comes, he doesn’t even know what that means anymore.

from the window dying above the world:

Track number twelve comes in at two and a half minutes long, starting off with the beautiful chirping of birds and acoustic guitar.  In the first stanza, the narrator refers to the “hospital glow”, which is both the look of someone under the harsh fluorescent lights as well as the sick, fragile, vulnerable, and unnatural look someone displays when they are sick in the hospital.  The lyric “words all came from somewhere else” gives off the feeling of dissociation, or maybe even relief as the memory or trauma of the “past life” is bleeding into the moment, “one that is taking a long time”.  In the second stanza, there is a twist on the typical symbolism of a sunset, in this instance, the sunset is not a beacon of hope and new beginnings, no, it is “creepy, unnerving, grotesque, and selfish.”  “Selfish”, specifically, is an unusual word for a sunrise; it suggests resentment toward the world’s indifference. Life goes on, the sun rises, but it feels almost cruel to witness it.  

“All of it seems so ordinary

a matter of fact

humiliation

but I drag it in”

There’s a sense of resigned shame, as if actively dying is not a good enough excuse for showing vulnerability and fragility.  It’s like whatever is happening is not dramatic or special, but still feels humiliating.  “I drag it in” evokes someone hauling their pain or humiliation inside themselves, internalizing it instead of releasing it.  It’s like being stuck in a loop of suffering that’s both banal and unbearable.

“Like one last big deep breath

like one last good day in the sun

waiting for one good thing to happen

or just waiting for it to be done”

The light is getting closer and closing in, these are their final moments, reminiscing of all the simple things to enjoy in life that are often taken for granted, like a deep breath or being out in the sun.  I very much enjoy the parallel of “waiting for one good thing to happen” and how it partners with the lyric, “best thing to happen here in weeks” in “Serling’s Comet”.  The closing couplet captures a stark ambivalence of the person still hoping for a good turn, but might equally welcome oblivion.  At its core, this song is a portrait of quiet collapse. Not the kind marked by dramatic breakdowns or big emotional gestures, but the kind that’s ordinary, drawn-out, humiliating in its slowness, and all the more devastating because of how mundane it is.

Half In Love:

We are so close to the finale of the album, and we get our final mention of dogwood.  If we follow the christian interpretation of dogwood (some say the cross was made of dogwood), selling it feels like trading in their faith or any possibility of redemption and forgiveness.  Now, the future is now meaningless without something to believe in, and being redeemed feels further and further out of reach.  When I say “faith” or “something to believe in” I am not explicitly implying any form of religion.  Though there is plenty of religious imagery throughout this album, I highly doubt this album is trying to say “life is meaningless if you don’t love Jesus”, maybe the character narrating this song believes that, but it is certainly not the main point meant to be taken from this album.  It could be anything from religion to seeing a blade of grass outside that calls out to you for whatever reason.  I think being “half in love” represents the tug and pull of being a faithful person, but realizing that maybe you have grown and no longer align with these sentiments and beliefs.  Or perhaps, a trust or bond has been broken within this love, now leading to hesitation and a step back.  Now that the possibility of redemption has been compromised, so has the faith itself.  The contrast between the quiet funeral and private flood of tears shows emotional repression, a grief not expressed publicly, perhaps due to shame, pride, or emotional distance.  This again evokes emotional incompleteness and feelings that should have been shared but were contained, stifled, or hidden.  It also might imply the speaker lost the person they were "half in love with" and their grief is unresolved, complicated, or not something they could fully own.  “Bees float around my head” is such a fascinating line to end the song on.  Bees can symbolize memory, busyness, nature, or unsettled thoughts. They can also signify a low hum of danger or tension.  “Floating around my head” could mean the speaker is mentally swarmed by persistent thoughts, possibly guilt, regret, or simply the lingering hum of unresolved emotion.  Bees also have cultural ties to the soul and the afterlife in certain mythologies, which might subtly connect back to the funeral and themes of unfinished mourning.  This is a quiet, mournful song about regret, emotional ambivalence, and loss. The speaker looks back on a moment, or a relationship, that never fully bloomed. Whether due to fear, emotional distance, or bad timing, they were only ever "half in love." Now, that chance is gone, sealed by death or permanent absence, and they’re left circling that phrase like a mantra they can’t escape.  The dogwood tree being sold and the funeral frame the story in themes of disconnection from home, death, and emotional repression. The final image of bees suggests the speaker's mind is still buzzing with unresolved feelings, grief that stings, memories that won’t leave them alone, and thoughts that hover but never land.  The whole piece sits in a kind of liminal space, where love wasn’t quite love, mourning wasn’t quite public, and the future feels not quite possible.  It's a poem about things left unsaid, about loving halfway, and about the haunting that follows.

Big Pleasant Credit Union:

The finale to this album, “Big Pleasant Credit Union”, reads like a quiet, almost epilogue‑like reflection on the same themes, characters, and imagery that was found all throughout this album.  At face value, it’s a small, almost cinematic vignette:

A drunk, battered man bursts into a credit union shouting about revolution. A teller (Abigail) instinctively reaches for the panic button, but stops herself. He throws up, both literally and metaphorically, his “disillusion.” The narrator watches, conflicted, oscillating between judgment and empathy.  But under this surface story, the song is about the collapse of idealism and the messy, human aftermath of failed rebellion.  The song opens with a direct echo of “to Victoria…” In that earlier track, the narrator (or the “robber”) literally shouts “throw off your chains” mid‑heist, fumbling between a hold‑up and a revolutionary speech.  Here, that phrase returns, but degraded, no longer part of a performative fantasy, but the drunken rant of a man who’s clearly lost the plot.  The “credit union” is also symbolic. Credit unions are cooperative banks, or “people’s banks.” The setting underscores the tension between communal ideals and the bureaucratic, financial reality people actually live in.  Abigail becomes the quiet moral counterpoint. She’s frightened, but she withholds the instinct to criminalize and she doesn’t press the button.  This small gesture introduces grace into the scene, an alternative to the punitive reflex.  “Throwing up his disillusion” is a brilliant, literal metaphor; he’s physically vomiting, but also purging years of disappointment, broken promises, failed revolutions.  The narrator admits we “bend towards that absolution”, suggesting that despite the mess, there’s something redeeming in someone finally breaking down, even in public.  The narrator realizes this isn’t just his failure or that drunk man’s failure. It’s a shared exhaustion, a generational, societal disillusionment.  The question “haven’t we all suffered enough?” reads as both empathy and indictment, a sigh at the endlessness of it all.  Daniel makes another appearance, this time revealed as the brother of the narrator.  Here we learn he’s gone “messianic”, echoing the theme of men whose visions turn them into erratic prophets or would‑be martyrs.  “Those who think they talk to angels”, or those who can’t endure the silence of the world or rationalize the everyday horrors of the universe, so they project meaning into it.  Between Dnaiel’s breakdown and the drunk man’s breakdown, there is suggestions of a continuum of failed or delusional transcendence.  “Red Vienna” was the period when socialist policies transformed Vienna’s housing, culture, and welfare.  The speaker’s interest in it signals a yearning for real, historical examples of revolution done right.  But “tell it to the crows” comes across as a way to undercut this, like saying “no one’s listening,” or “these dreams are for the birds now.” Another collapse of idealism into cynicism.  However, maybe it isn’t all for nothing.  Remember, it is not yet illegal to look at the clouds or appreciate the sky or listen to the birds.  Maybe the birds and the trees, the perfect representation of nature and its critical role, will continue to inspire revolution and incite change.  The ending of the song flips the bleakness.  Despite everything, the drunk man, the vomit, the messianic brother, the crows, the narrator still believes there’s something salvageable in the world.  “Even with the sludge” echoes the earlier “infinite spring” from “to Victoria…” but inverted. There’s no infinite honey or spring; there’s just sludge. But the narrator imagines polishing it anyway, a fragile, non‑grandiose hope.  “Big Pleasant Credit Union” is the album’s quiet, humane closer, the moment where the band steps back from the fever‑dream stick‑ups and angel sightings of the previous songs and shows the world as it really is: messy, sad, disillusioned, but still special enough to keep trying.  It reframes the chaos of “to Victoria, RE: the spoils” as part of a larger human pattern, our fumbling attempts at liberation, our hunger for meaning, our inevitable disappointment, and gently suggests that even if the revolution fails and the angels are only in our heads, there’s still dignity in showing restraint, compassion, and the small act of trying to polish what’s left.

Wow, okay, damn.  This review is finally done.  I started working on this review at least one month ago, and after some personal issues, I took a little bit of a break to get myself back on track, and that coincided with the one-year-anniversary of CD-ROM Rabbit Hole!  So needless to say, it feels like I’ve been interacting with this album for an unbelievably long amount of time.  But, you won’t hear me complaining; this album is beautiful and Brian always puts an incredible amount of thought, effort, work, time, and talent into every song he releases.  “Songs from Big Pleasant” reminds me a lot of The Twilight Zone, Pleasantville, and the “steamed hams” episode of The Simpsons.  So, if any of those pop culture references interest you, that should be the hook that gets you to listen.  Once you’ve finished listening, you will be like your own version of Daniel, the one who saw the angel.  Preach your prophecy of Big Pleasant!  Spread the word!  Anyway, thank you all so much for reading and listening.  I need to get some sleep.  But before you go, make sure you read my super cool and in-depth interview with Brian McCue, the mastermind behind Big Pleasant!

Interview:

Hey, Brian!  It's great to have you back for another interview. Throughout my review, I refrained from mentioning your other musical project because I wanted this album to stand on its own without any unnecessary external factors at play; but your other band, Cloud District,  has been featured on CD-ROM Rabbit Hole previously. So let me ask this, and get it out of the way, how has your experience with Cloud District differed from your experience with Big Pleasant?  How have you approached this new project differently?  What incited this new musical endeavor?  Did you have any hesitations about starting something new, completely from scratch?

Brian: The experience is definitely very different. A band is an organism with lots of moving parts and in Cloud District’s case five different brains and you have to juggle a lot of things just to schedule rehearsals, write songs, communicate, stay organized and on task, etc. The biggest thing about this project is that this is really just me. That can be a good and bad thing. I don’t have anyone to bounce ideas off of and I’m largely left to my own devices. There’s something magical that happens when you are collaborating with someone and they bring an idea you never would have thought of to the table or they just have an entirely different musical palette they draw from. That happens a lot with Cloud District, and takes songs into entirely new directions I would never be able to foresee. But on the other side, with Big Pleasant I get to write all the parts, and I can finish a song in one or two sessions on my own time. Not worrying about anyone else’s taste or input or anything when I fire off ideas has been very freeing in being creatively unrestricted. I can just make the silliest song I want at 2 in the morning, and I only have myself to judge it. I can scrap an idea late in the process and go into an entirely new direction whenever I would like. My Cloud District bandmates are supportive, but I can still get crazy anxiety when I present a musical idea to them. Now all my anxiety is just the inward kind. 

The hardest part of working by myself is just confidence and motivation. If you listen to the same song a hundred times when you are mixing and finishing it, it completely loses whatever made it exciting and magical when you first wrote it and it just becomes a lot of irritating noise, and that happened to me quite a bit with this record. Not working on a timeline made it possible to create the album I made, but I also feel like I have been working seriously on this record for a very comical amount of time. This is partially because I can tweak things at any time in the process and that can send me down a rabbit hole of new changes to songs. For example, I added the monologue part in “To Victoria, RE: the spoils” very late in the process, replacing a different sort of monologue part I had there, and re-mixed it. I luckily had people I could share the songs with a bit along the way to ensure I wasn’t completely going down the wrong direction but I felt pretty isolated making this record. It’s a weird feeling when you are excited about something but can’t really share it with anyone for months. I would especially like to shout out Shane Stanton at Glower Studios in Boonton, NJ who gave me a lot of advice on the mixing side of things and who was available for me to ask a lot of questions about mixing and recording and who was the support I needed to keep going. There was definitely a lot of hesitation on starting something new. I would say that finishing some of the Cloud District songs for the last EP, Proof of Life inspired me to try and do some more home recording projects. A good amount of Archimedes’ Death Ray and Vaporwave Nightmare were tracked by me at home and sent off to Shane Stanton for mixing, and I thought they came out pretty good, so that definitely inspired me to take on more home recording. I also just have a lot of songs written and Cloud District has five different lives competing for our collective time and attention. My initial thought was that I was just going to go ahead and record and finish some older songs I had floating around and just start to release them so they can be out in the world and not on my harddrive, but then this project kind of went off into its own direction and became unwieldy in its own way. I ended up not finishing a lot of those old songs and replacing them with new ones.

I am definitely nervous to release stuff that is entirely recorded by me and to sort of start over in a way. So much of what makes Cloud District great is the musical ideas and talents of all our band members. I don’t know how to play drums! I don’t really know how to play bass!  I’m just a guy in his apartment making songs! 

You offered some very helpful information about this album to me privately, but would you please give some insight into what Big Pleasant is?  

Brian: All of the songs of Big Pleasant take place in the town of Big Pleasant. The different narrators and characters might cross paths across different songs. My idea is that each song slowly builds out the lore of the town.

I absolutely adore the concept, I think you did a beautiful job with the world-building of Big Pleasant. How did you come up with this idea and where did you first start?  Was this concept present from the beginning or did you start writing one-off songs and then started slowly incorporating them into this broader picture?  I would love to hear all about the process!

Brian: Thank you! As I mentioned in my earlier answer, I started off with a handful of songs I wanted to try and complete. While I was writing, I wanted to try and make the songs cohesive thematically. At some point I picked up the larger Big Pleasant concept and that set me off into a new direction with more of a restriction that was really exciting. Once I came to the realization of the “one town” idea, I found it really exciting to generate new songs. It was easier to write “sister songs” that sort of take an idea from another angle, re-use some musical or lyrical element, or that expand on a previous character or situation because I was already starting somewhere. I wrote Serling’s Comet and Devotion in the same day in the same session using the same chord progression and The Blackened Ooze was sort of an intentional attempt to write about the same events as in little birds later in the process. “From the window dying above the world” was a song I had written back in 2022 but I could never get quite right. Turns out it just needed some mellotron and I feel like it fit in quite nicely with the others. The last song on the record, Big Pleasant Credit Union was a nice rug to really tie the room together.

I noticed that some song titles have proper capitalization and others do not, what is the significance of that, if any?

Brian: Funny enough, I went back and forth on having everything undercase or with more proper capitalization but decided to do a system called “vibes based capitalization.”  There’s no logic, just what I felt was right at the time of input, haha.

Before this album, you released a song titled “Loser Baby”, in your eyes how does that song play into this vast concept?  Did you learn anything from the process behind that song that you incorporated, or did differently, for the album?

Brian: Definitely a song that takes place in Big Pleasant. That song was a big learning experience for me in learning mixing and mastering and it was released out of a feeling that I had been working on stuff for so long that I really needed to just finally complete and release something and really claim this project as being tangible. Kind of a weird first song I think, haha. 

I had Loser Baby on the tracklist for this record right up until the last days of finishing it up. I didn’t want to re-mix and master it because I already had so much work to do to finish this record, and I felt like the back half of the album was dragging a bit with some of the slower songs being on there so I cut it. What made Loser Baby easy to do was that it had no drums and was not nearly as sonically complicated as some of the other songs on this one. It had a lot of the sonic touches that I associate with Big Pleasant now though. Definitely would take another crack at the mix on Loser Baby though. I think it’s a good song! 

What was the toughest part of writing or recording this album?  On the flip side, what came easily for you, if anything?  

Brian: Oh boy. I cut a lot of songs from this project and I had a lot of trouble finding which ones fit at the beginning. Learning to mix and EQ things was a huge challenge, and there are already things that really stick out to me when I listen back to the record that I wish I had fixed. I struggled a lot to mix my vocals. I struggled with mixing the drums and fitting everything together harmoniously. I am now very very aware of the horrible hissing noises and “ess” sounds that I tend to make when singing. I also struggled with the art work and the art direction for a bit. Pretty happy with the artwork I ended up with.

Some songs just came shockingly easy. I think I wrote The Seagulls last and it took me like 2 hours to record and to have a very solid mix. Similarly, I think I composed most of the lyrics for Speaking for the Trees in my head while driving to buy a guitar and then came home and recorded it in like an hour. Big Pleasant Credit Union came fairly easy and felt right pretty immediately. 

I absolutely struggled with little birds. I must have done 40 bounces of that one, and I think I tracked, scrapped, and re-tracked everything on it. That song just has a lot of instruments going on, and I don’t think I nailed it in the final version, to be honest. Similar situation for To Victoria RE: the spoils.

As I mentioned before, having songs that started from some part of another song really helped me generate exciting new song ideas. It was really fun to build out the lore of the town and have character ideas come to me as I was going. Finding new sounds was pretty delightful. I had a lot of fun writing this record but mixing it was pretty tedious at times. 

I know this is a terrible question to ask a musician, and I implore everyone to listen to the ENTIRE album from start to finish, but do you have a favorite track?  If so, why is it your favorite?  

Brian: Right now probably The Blackened Ooze and the Little Birds too… I like that it’s kind of spooky sounding and has cool imagery. I also feel like Serling’s Comet is a good example of the type of songs I wanted to write with this record. I quite like the whole record at this moment! I’ve been listening to it quite a bit which has not historically been the case for me after releasing something.

I'm going to double down and ask two terrible questions back-to-back. If you are willing to share, what is your personal interpretation and meaning behind “Songs from Big Pleasant”?

Brian: They are songs from the band Big Pleasant and also regarding the town of Big Pleasant.

Do you have any ideas or plans for how this story of Big Pleasant will progress in the future? I am very excited to see what's next!

Brian: I have another Halloween-themed concept record which I have made very decent progress on that is in the works. I also have a loose idea for an EP currently made up of some songs which didn’t make the cut for this record or which just didn’t feel like they fit here. I also have a very very loose idea for an EP where the vibe is “country western space aliens.” I feel like I have a lot of room to build out the world for this project and I am still really excited by it. My problem has pretty much always been writing too many songs and not finishing them.

Who/what were some of your biggest inspirations when approaching this album?  

Brian: A lot of the individual songs or lyrics were inspired by movies or books I read. Probably the biggest one was the stories of Raymond Carver. I love his writing, and his ability to condense so much into such a little space. The original run of The Twilight Zone was my guiding light for how I want the world to feel, the aesthetics, and for the episodic nature. Winesburg, Ohio by Sherwood Anderson was probably the genesis of the idea to have everything take place in a town with overlapping narrators. Super late in the process of mixing I read People From my Neighborhood by Hiromi Kawakami and I was like “wow, this is exactly what I wanted to be doing but a lot better!” 

Lot of bands were hugely inspiring to me during the process and I will just name a few that are coming to me right now: The Felice Brothers, Little Kid, NOVA ONE, Greg Freeman, Wild Pink, Sinai Vessel, Wednesday, MJ Lendermen, and The Bug Club.

I have a playlist of some of the songs I was listening to a lot on the tail end of the record here:https://open.spotify.com/playlist/16tmQFcShYER6yVJREvshy?si=f8ce55d3f2c54926

As always, I want to leave space at the end for artists to shout-out anyone they'd like.  Now is your time to do so!

Brian: Shout out to Hilary Mantel. Shout out to Wolf Hall. and most importantly, shout out to the Public Library. 

Thank you again, so much, for giving me the privilege of reviewing your album and getting to dive deeper into it and chat!  

Thank you all for reading!  I really hope you take the time to dive into “Songs from Big Pleasant” by the artist Big Pleasant, and you can find all of their links HERE!

(https://linktr.ee/bigpleasant )