By Macie Rasmussen

In their Bandcamp bio, local band Ray Gun Youth states: “We’re a couple of dorks from the Twin Cities with a twinkle in our eyes and a song in our hearts.” On the May 20 release of the band’s debut EP, “Craigslist Champions”, guitarist and vocalist Jake Frazier serves as the main songwriter, drummer Izzy Dwelle pitches in with lyrics on one track, and bassist Travis Clark holds the melodies together. The project comes after the group’s inception in 2022.

On “Craigslist Champions”, the thematic look in the members’ eyes is glaring, not twinkling. The EP is apathetic, but not depressive; dissatisfied, but not hopeless. The band’s artistic values seem to intersect at a crossroads of pessimism and fun – both devoted to using pop-punk and emo music as a medium to express their contempt for the monotony of everyday life. 

Make it past the moments of stomping layers of garage-rock and you’re rewarded with good-humored irony courtesy of Frazier’s words. On “I Got a Job” he sings “I got a job/I contribute to society/Why would my nation ever lie to me?” to suggest that gaining employment – which is typically considered a success – can actually erode joy. Building off of the same sturdy guitar riffs, the verse, “I’m 23, I’m a real go-getter/Don’t like smoking, killing fire feels better/And I feel like I’ve got something to offer/But I’m old enough to know better” appears on “Know Better” to channel a young adulthood anthem; old enough to recognize potential, yet too young to accept certainty of it.

Ray Gun Youth’s Bandcamp description goes on to instruct listeners to “eat our music yum yum yum.” If someone dives into the EP, the most appetizing item may be “Orbital,” which immediately begins with pounding, liberating punk chords and ends with screeching instrumentation and modelated, angry vocals. Also on the project’s menu are playful verses, fuzzy bass textures, and hints of sincerity. “Craigslist Champions” progresses by way of upbeat doomer grooves to eventually land on hope as Frazier repeatedly sings, “Will you stick around?/I’ll find a way” on the closing song, “Oregon Trail.” The escapist track contains a harmony fitting for a children’s lullaby, and despite a subtle anxious tone, sounds comforting. 

Listeners hungry for an unprecedented take on present-day frustration and self-doubt may not be completely satiated, though. Banalities – like smoking equating to lethargy and the desolate aura of suburbia – are used often. However, the band’s ability to capture catchy choruses amidst aggressive pop-punk-goodness is a promising one; now it’s just a matter of finding the balance between commonplace venting and fresh existential questioning. It’s likely that the music in the trio’s hearts will evolve with time. This is their debut, after all.