We’re not all in the same boat. The coronavirus pandemic has made that clear. Some people are working from home, worrying about little more than the consistency of their Wi-Fi connection and which TV series to binge-watch next. Others, like those in the meat-packing industry, are working in unsafe conditions, all too often without hazard pay. Countless families have seen their small businesses collapse. Over 40 million Americans have filed for unemployment insurance.
Musicians are no different. They too, are a diverse bunch, and their experience of the pandemic has been equally diverse. While a small niche of superstars like J. Lo and Madonna have waited out the pandemic in luxury, sipping Pierre poolside or blathering on from a rose-petal-topped bathtub, others are scraping just to get by.
Musicians who subsist on income from live shows and touring have been hit especially hard. Take bassist, multi-instrumentalist, songwriter and producer Christopher Griffiths. According to the Nashville Business Journal, until the coronavirus pandemic shut down the Nashville bar scene, Griffiths was playing seven to eight shows a week. He was also preparing for a summer of touring with singer-songwriter Will Hoge. But that was all before.
Once the pandemic hit, Griffiths’ gigs disappeared. After the shock wore off, he realized the pandemic came with a silver lining—time. If Midlife Pop Crisis, a four-track EP of radio-friendly, dance-oriented alternative pop, is any indication, Griffiths has put this time to good use.
At the height of the pandemic, with a minimum of gear—a guitar, bass, Moog and laptop—and no shortage of creativity, Griffiths wrote, recorded and released Midlife Pop Crisis. While the whole EP’s worth a listen, “Without the Beat” is one of the catchiest singles of the pandemic. In fact, it’s so infectious, the CDC’s likely tracking its spread at this very moment. Over a menacing Moog progression and persistent beat, propelled by drum machine and slapping bassline, Griffiths sings Your heart may lie to you and tell you what you want to hear.
The lyrics may not be spectacular, but the melody’s pitch-perfect, and the song construction’s near-perfect: the bridge meanders, drawing away from the song’s urgency, offering little more than variety in recompense. But that’s my only quibble, and it’s a minor one.
“Painted Smile” is more end-of-night, sobering-up mood music than dance-floor filler, but it’s quality all the same. “Incredible Lie” and “Dream and My Adidas”—both effusive uptempo pop tracks sure to keep dance floors crammed—round out the EP.
There’s no fat on Midlife Pop Crisis. It’s rock solid from beginning to end. It ought to garner Griffiths some serious attention, not only as a bassist but also as a writer and producer.
If you’re looking for a little sunny pop to pull you out of the pandemic gloom, look no further. Midlife Pop Crisis is available on iTunes and on Griffiths’ Soundcloud page.
