Whole Fucking Lifetime of This

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In late 2017, Sam Ray chose to change the name of his band from Teen Suicide to American Pleasure Club, having reached the conclusion that the old name was "horrible, juvenile, and problematic." He wasn't wrong, but Ray's first album under the new handle, 2018's A Whole Fucking Lifetime of This, covers an emotional territory that lies somewhere between the borders of pleasure and despair. Ray wears his emo credentials on his sleeve on these songs, sounding dour and downcast even when he's at his most hopeful, and while he sings a lot about love, for him finding and keeping it is no easy task. Ray's vocals don't betray an especially broad range of emotions, but his music sure does. A Whole Fucking Lifetime of This is full of stylistic shape-shifting, leaping back and forth from the noisy guitar-based rock of "New Years Eve" to the spare acoustic strum of "Before My Telephone Rings" to the jungle rhythm beds of "Just a Mistake" to the pitch-shifted R&B grooves of "Lets Move to the Desert" to the gently flowing soundscapes of "Sycamore." A Whole Fucking Lifetime of This is as much about the production as it is about the songs, and the low-fidelity cut-and-paste sound of the album gives it an immediacy that a more polished approach might lack. Ray has made an album that sounds homemade in the best possible way; it possesses the emotional honesty of a set of diary entries, and the rough edges suit the late-night soul-baring atmosphere of his songs beautifully. American Pleasure Club marks a creative step forward for Sam Ray, and A Whole Fucking Lifetime of This matches a young man's fearlessness with his more mature counterpart's wisdom. It's impressive stuff. ~ Mark Deming