Photo Courtesy of Pitchfork
Author: Sofi Gonstead
During the first pandemic lockdown, I was having a lot of weird dreams. I remember having one dream in particular which reunited me with what I would consider to be one of my favorite albums of all time. That album is called Goon, and it’s by (my favorite 6 foot 7-inch-tall person from Vancouver) Tobias Jesso Jr. In the dream, I saw him on the street, and quite literally just went “Tobias, hi, your album is my favorite album ever,” and woke up. As soon as I woke, I grabbed my phone, opened Instagram, and DM’d him pretty much the exact same line. To my surprise, he responded, thanking me, and kindly complimenting my Moomin profile photo. Needless to say, it was a good moment for me.
The events leading up to the creation of Goon are pretty insane. Imagine this: you’re struggling to find work as a songwriter in Hollywood. Then, you endure a grueling break up. Then, you get hit by a bus, getting your bike stolen in the process! And finally, as if your year hadn’t been difficult enough, your mother is diagnosed with cancer.
Goon, named appropriately for one’s musical debut, is an album of pain, heartbreak, and loss. It is also an album of love. Jesso’s songwriting style is cinematic and classic, giving each track a highly familiar sound. At the same time, however, he manages to set each song ablaze with his beautifully distinct vocals, though sometimes comparable to a young Paul McCartney or Randy Newman.
When Goon was released back in 2015, Pitchfork gave it an 8.5, noting it as some of the best new music of that year. Adele even said in an interview that she “loves him” after he helped her to co-write the song “When We Were Young” off of her 2015 album, 25–and his influence is more than noticeable on the track. Despite overwhelming praise, Goon still received its fair share of critical remarks, falling almost completely under the fact that the lyrics and piano melodies are, well, a bit rudimentary. It’s kind of like a Rupi Kaur poem–it might not be that eloquent, but sometimes people just need it spelled out for them.
I believe that if it weren’t for its utterly raw and fragile nature, Goon could potentially be stripped of its authenticity and charm altogether. Jesso is hiding behind nothing on this record. In fact, if the minimalism wasn’t there, it might even run the risk of distracting from its most precious element: its soulful, heartbreaking honesty.
Goon is an album so honest that it will draw your tears regardless of whether or not you can relate to it. “I can hardly breathe without you / There is no future I want to see without you / I just don’t know who I would be without you”. Goon is therapy for Jesso, and with that it is healing for the listener. Am I projecting?
This is a no-skip record for me. However, “How Could You Babe” seems to stand out amongst the others as the tale of heartbreak itself, with a build-up so steady that the chorus will inevitably make you want to look to the sky and shake both fists in the air: “When I found out you’d gone and met a new man / I felt so lonely that I cried / How could you baby?”.
Watch the “How Could You Babe” music video here: https://youtu.be/uu1Ko02P7vk
Goon remains Jesso’s debut record, and I worry it may also be his last. But perhaps that’s why it’s so special. Goon is an album that feels like–despite all tribulations–a man chose to share his deepest vulnerabilities with the world. And now, because of that decision, there will forever exist a set of songs that may bring peace to those in pain when they need it most, however many years later. Perhaps even today.
Sofi Gonstead｜I guess love ain’t always right｜KXSU Music Reporter