The phrase Joy Is Elusive appeared in Matthew Carlson’s head one day, and the Harborcoat singer/songwriter/guitarist wrote it in black Sharpie on a piece of paper and tacked it to the wall above his studio computer. Those words became a conceptual signpost for the Harborcoat’s sophomore album, aptly titled, Joy Is Elusive.
“Not that joy doesn’t happen, or that we can’t find a lot joy in life and work, but it seems it can be difficult to find these moments and hard work to sustain them,” the Lansing, Michigan artist shares. “I’ve struggled with depression and anxiety all my life and it has always crept into my songwriting as a sort of veiled subtext. With this new batch of songs, I made a conscious effort to write about it more directly. They aren’t mopey or deliberately maudlin, but I think during these times people are feeling a lot of anxiety, depression, and they have been grappling with isolation. These topics are part of the human condition.”
Matthew is the main songwriter in Harborcoat. Previously, he led The Pantones for more than a decade, and currently he writes songs and plays and sings in Lansing power pop outfit, The Stick Arounds. In addition, he is the owner and operator of Phonophore Records.
Harborcoat began as a songwriting outlet for Matthew in 2016 for output that didn’t fit with The Stick Arounds. The vision was initially a bedroom artistic venture, but a dear friend suggested Matthew make a real record, and Harborcoat became a functioning band that plays shows and records with an ever-evolving cast of musicians. Previously, Harborcoat issued the 2017 single, “See The Sun,” and the 2019 full-length, Brutal Gravity.
Harborcoat specialize in short stories with chords. The lyrics are novelistic and almost standalone pieces rife with emotive and well-crafted narratives. The band name is pulled from an early R.E.M. gem, and the music brims with nods to Matthew’s heroes. The songs recall the crunchy power pop and harmonies of Teenage Fanclub; the introspection and melodic storytelling of Billy Bragg; and sprinkled in are moments of 80’s esque Brit-Pop or working-class anthems. These influences, however, do not define the record, but they are merely a strand of DNA in Harborcoat’s collective musical helix.
Today Glide is excited to premiere the band’s new single “Help Me Out Somehow,” a rousing dose of English pop-rock that recalls the Smiths, 1980s new wave, and the 1990s Brit-pop invasion. Lyrically, the song draws from the feeling of being stuck in a deep depression and trying to get out, a feeling that resonates with many of us in these fucked up times we’re living in. Contrasting with the dark lyrics is plenty of jangly guitars, soaring harmonies, and urgent lyrics that bring to mind the rock and soul style of Reigning Sound. Even with Carlson choosing not to hold back on some darker themes, it’s clear from this tune that we can expect a rollicking good time from the upcoming album.
Matthew Carlson explains the inspiration and process behind the song:
Help Me Out Somehow was the first song I wrote for the album, and in many ways it feels like the emotional foundation of the record. The phrase “You caught me at a real bad time/when it might be right I just can’t say” at the end of the first verse, seems to sum up so much of what the whole record is about. While the characters in the song and across the album are not me specifically, they all seem to share some of my emotional DNA. The feeling of a streak of bad luck, of a deep depression, or even just a string of self sabotage is one I know all too well. The album is littered with people often doing the wrong things to find a better life for themselves or to cope with their failures and circumstances.
This was also the first song we committed to tape during our recording sessions last Fall. Just three weeks before we headed in to record the record during a weeklong session at our family cabin, my Dad died very suddenly. My world was completely turned upside down. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to try and make the session happen, but my family and friends pushed me to stick with the plan. Within just a few minutes of playing, the loss and depression and anxiety of the moment melted away to some degree. It was a glorious distraction, and I think the results were affected by the specter of that loss and grief. In a way, we weren’t just playing songs, we were buoying ourselves against grief.
LISTEN:
Photo credit: Michael Boyes
