On the darkly exhilarating sixth studio album from Porches, Aaron Maine is staring at the big sky, ditching school, climbing fences and being so rock 'n' roll even the most beat-to-death tropes resonate like cultural awakenings.
Shirt's tracklist and lyric sheet read like a cloud map of the American Imagination; sonically, it ricochets between stripped-down ballads, country-twanged bops and post-punk sound waves that smack you like a dog pile — harsh and heavy, but oh-so comforting once you succumb to the weight of it all.
A delectably unhinged coming-of-age homage, Shirt unfolds as a ruthless succession of trying-on and discarding. Throughout the record, Maine slips in and out of sweet and sinister armour, dueling dichotomies like imaginary dragons. Drenched in nostalgia, these songs journey further into the playful sentimentality of 2021's All Day Gentle Hold ! funneled through the unmistakable grit of '90s grunge and the early 2000s garage rock revival. Ripe with glitchy guitars, punchy Auto-Tune, acoustic melodies and vocals that drag like limbs in agony, Shirt showcases the very best of Maine's artistry — and his alluring feral side.
Despite all of the angst and chaos, Shirt nurtures a resounding sense of possibility. "Anything could happen if you want it to," Maine lures in the album's halfway ditty, "School." In the hypnotically menacing "Sally," he spins bird shit into a blessing: "The bird takes a shit on my head / Now we will never be apart again." Even amidst the existential bewilderment of "Precious" — "I was nothing for awhile, yeah / Just staring at the big sky" — Maine maintains, "I was precious on the rooftop."
But Maine's devotion to the bright side feels eerie and fickle, like the very romanticization of nationalism that saturates the record's satirical nods to Americana. Backhanded at every turn, his ode to "USA" boasts: "I got sucked off in every state," then — in celebratory, Fourth-of-July fashion — "Wash my sins off in the lake." Tipping his hat to the south in the country-steeped "Joker," a lost dog picked up at the pound becomes a tongue-in-cheek pilgrimage worthy of a two-step. Closing the curtain with a ballad of a tortured rockstar, "Music" is a true parody of the profound. Soulful and raw in its production, a single spotlight conjures behind closed eyelids as Maine caresses ivory keys and croons: "All my hair / All my clothes / All my drugs are rock and roll."
What really solidifies Shirt as Maine's most compelling record to date is its live performance potential. The electrifying guitar and heavy drums of "Rag" and "Itch" are just begging to incite a mosh; the chorus call of "Bread Believer" ready to unite crowds in holler. Considering Porches' evolution since signing to Domino Records — from the lonesome synth pop of 2016's Pool and 2018's The House to 2020's hyper-Auto-Tuned Ricky Music to the freewheeling indie rock of All Day Gentle Hold ! — Shirt is an intoxicating feat. Sadistic and reckless as biking home past curfew with blood in your mouth and a smirk on your face, Maine's portrait of suburban America wants to take us all down with it… and who are we to resist?