Article by Melanie Macpherson
Photos by Tracy Creighton/Copperblue Photography and Design
Saskatoon alt-rockers Banastronaut are back with their first full length album, Liminal Spaceman. The album launches listeners into a realm where pop punk, alt-rock, uncertainty and a hint of 90s nostalgia converge in a journey of musical exploration and emotional introspection.
The album kicks off with “Scumbag.” This poppy earworm, with its infectious melody, feels like a playful parade through a carnival of shattered dreams. With lyrics like "All my heroes are scumbags. Fall in line to be disillusioned," the song delves into candid reflections on celebrity worship and personal disappointment. The lighthearted, playful tune juxtaposed with the sobering realization of flawed idols, creates a slightly off kilter dichotomy that sets the stage for the rest of the album.
“Worth” explores themes of self-worth and personal discovery. There’s an early Barenaked Ladies vibe, with its jaunty guitar and cadence, that pulls you into a nostalgic reverie. It's a song about stepping back to rediscover your value, as if waking from a long slumber and seeing the world with fresh eyes. A liberating anthem, this song has the ability to resonate deeply.
“Sinner” shifts gears with a more alt rock style melodic guitar licks and intense vocals. The song's refrain, "You tell me I'm a sinner, then I'll act in kind," the lyrics confess with raw emotion. This feels like a tug of war between the guilt you’ve been raised to accept and the freedom of choosing your own path.
Our spacemen have a casual encounter of the third kind in “Casual”, which brings a dose of pure pop punk indulgence. "Try me on," the song pleads, capturing the desire for a more permanent connection amid fleeting encounters. The infectious energy of this track makes it ideal for live performances.
“Tic Tac” slows down the tempo with an almost disco-infused groove, a bizarrely captivating descent into the rabbit hole of self-destruction and excess. The lyrics, "I'm the worst, I'm the fucking worst and I'll tell you why," are a raw, confessional spiral through the dark corners of the mind. When you add all that to the vulnerability of lines like “I’m sorry for crying all alone in the bathroom stall… Tic Tacs mask the smell of alcohol.” this will be a song that lingers long after it ends.
“Dream” returns us to more of a folky alt-rock groove, offering a dreamlike escape from reality. The song's surreal lyrics and more laid back melodies create a sense of floating in a cosmic dreamscape, blurring the lines between imagination and reality. It's a song that explores the ethereal nature of dreams and the art of letting go.
“What Can I Say” crashes back into pop punk territory with a heavy bassline and trippy, stumbly rhythm. Its lyrics are pointed and unflinching, with a follow up that overflows with positivity in a way that feels real. The song starts with starkly honest observations like “The best version of yourself - inside a daydream. Are you happy? Do you look down on yourself on your perch from up above. When you play jury, are you proud of all your choices, or are you voiceless?” but gives way to the rock solid support of “Say the word and I’ll be right there to catch you… You are good enough, you’re everything you need to be.” The track's message of self-acceptance is both uplifting and thought-provoking.
As the album progresses, "Another Line" teeters back towards moody alt-rock riding a wave of melancholic writer’s block . "I tried to write another line but what else can I say? Maybe it’ll come tomorrow or another day or maybe not. Throw me away with the bath water, throw me away like all the others come before. Throw me away with the bath water, I'm out of ink, I'm out of paper." The lyrical lament beautifully captures the feeling of being drained and discarded when inspiration fades.
“Tin Man” stands out with its funky bassline and existential musings about trying to find out what your heart wants when you’re not even sure you have one. “I don’t know where my heart lies, I don’t know if I should, I don’t know if my heart beats inside my chest, if you know would you show me?”, the lyrics implore. The song clearly conjures an image of a rusted figure searching for a pulse. The repeated refrain, "I'm a tin man, rusted through and through," evokes a sense of weariness that many can relate to.
“The World is Resting” serves as a poignant conclusion to the album, a gentle release from the liminal space the album occupies. Ending with a decision to get out of your own way, surrendering to life’s flow and finding peace in uncertainty. The final lines, where the word "linger" is sung with a haunting resonance, sends shivers down the spine, leaving a feeling that lingers in the silence that follows.
Banastronaut's witty and intelligent writing, combined with their sense of humor and appreciation of the absurd shines throughout Liminal Spaceman. The lyrics are direct, honest, and vulnerable without feeling self-indulgent. The album's gritty reality is masked by a peppy cheerfulness, creating a unique contrast that will draw listeners in and keep them engaged.
The live show at Amigos Cantina on July 12th was an experience that perfectly mirrored the surrealistic charm of Liminal Spaceman. The night opened with Sëdézë, a local band that while relatively new to the scene, brings a surprisingly refined combination of soulful vocals and rock edge. They showcased their sound with some fantastic original tracks like the soon to be released “Whoopsie Daisy” and their first single “Purple Blanket” along with a phenomenal cover of Gnarls Barkley’s “Crazy.” The dynamic between their two vocalists, one sultry and smooth at the front and the other intense and raw from the drum kit, created a perfect balance that left the audience (and me) craving more.
The crowd was fully awake after Regina’s Roughsleeper took to the stage with their forceful, loud, and fast-paced punk rock. Their performance was a testament to their expertise in the genre, delivering an electrifying set that kept the energy high and the audience on their toes.
When Banastronaut took the stage, the crowd's anticipation was palpable. Leaning heavily into their pop punk and punk influences, the band delivered a high-energy performance that matched the album's vibrant spirit but with a far more reckless abandon. The audience was wild, with one particularly enthusiastic fan dancing with a palm tree, adding to the surreal atmosphere of the night. The band's interaction with the crowd was fantastic, creating a sense of playfulness, camaraderie and shared experience. The interplay among band members was seamless, showcasing their chemistry and collective talent.
In both album and performance, Banastronaut invites us to embark on a voyage through liminal spaces where dreams and reality, past and present, confusion and understanding intersect. It’s a musical odyssey that encourages introspection, celebrates authenticity, and embraces the complexities of the human experience.
Banastronaut is made up of Adam Beitel, Terrence Cunanan, Alex Brassard and Joel Wiks. The album was produced by Matt Stinn at Rainy Day Recording.
Check the album out on Spotify or any other streaming platforms.
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