It’s only taken thirteen long years, but Cartelare back, hopefully to stay.
Learning How To Cope is the band’s first full length album in over a decade, but that doesn’t mean they’re here to ease themselves back in gently. It’s quite the opposite. Cartel are older, angrier and increasingly aware that coping with the world around you sometimes means admitting just how bad it's getting. So join me as I break it down, one song at a time.
All Singing, All Dancing
“All Singing, All Dancing” barely gives breathing room before “So, it begins” kicks in, tearing through “another day, another hustle” and “the same old shit, the same old struggle” with guitars that sound almost too bright for how low the lyrics are. The contrast makes the whole track hit harder as an opener; the fairy tale might be burning to the ground, but they aren’t gonna take it lying down.
“We need an intervention,” quickly becomes the song’s rallying cry, taking aim at conventional wisdom and self-righteousness before landing on bluntly on “Kill your masters.” Amongst that certainty comes “What have I to say that won’t be said before or after?” It’s a tiny crack of doubt from a band returning after so long away. Maybe everything has been said before, but Cartel are going to say it louder.
Oxy Moron
For a song that’s about having an internal struggle, the song is suspiciously cheerful. Bright guitar lines skip around a steady drumbeat whilst the lyrics are busy dissociating, slipping into denial and debating “Maybe I’m a loser, maybe upside, down to earth” turning all that overthinking into one of those songs that gets stuck on loop in your brain.
Overthinking wins. “Fight, flight, freeze. I’ve mastered all, but none of these” gives way to “Catatonic, apathetic, paranoid, apocalyptic,” reach word piling onto the last as the song gets increasingly wound up. There’s something still hopeful buried amongst all that panic though, particularly in “I’m over underestimating what I deserve.” Cartel haven’t found that peace of mind they’re asking for, but maybe realizing you deserve more in the first place is enough progress for now.
Constants (Feat. Dashboard Confessional)
“Constants” spends a lot of time asking itself questions it doesn’t really know the answer to. Starting cautiously with “Anxious? Why, then?” before the drums kick the song forward, with the guitars helping fill the empty space. The verses keep the tension pretty tightly wound before the chorus lets it go, guitar lines growing bigger as “This was a constant, like it’s instilled in your bones” stretches out above them. Emo favorites Dashboard Confessional’s feature slips neatly into that push and pull too, another voice creeping into a song already crowded with thoughts.
“Turn off all the noise” would much easier to believe if “Constants” wasn’t so busy doing the complete opposite. The instruments briefly pull away for “Let it settle down”, only for the drums to hit harder, the guitars to thicken and the vocals start piling up with every bit of repetition. “All your thoughts and poise, erupt in chaos now” arrives right as the song itself starts losing its composure, allowing everything to spill back into one final chorus. Who knew asking your brain to nicely shut up doesn’t always work?
Deadbeat Drag
You can scratch and claw your way right to the top and still be a deadbeat when you get there according to Cartel. Pair that idea with chunky guitars, pounding drums and lyrics aimed squarely at someone who treats everyone like another rung on a ladder “Deadbeat Drag.” By the time the chorus swings around, all that ambition becomes the punchline. “You waste your life here waiting for the bag” lands right alongside “It’s just a deadbeat drag,” flipping the insult back onto the people so obsessed with getting ahead that they’ve stopped giving a shit about taking down anyone who gets in the way.
That becomes harder to ignore once you bring homelessness, sickness and religion into the firing line. “Compassion only goes so far, yeah, it really matters who you are.” The music gets increasingly wound up heading into “Tell me, was it worth it?” where “swallowing the bullshit, preach it from the pulpit” comes tumbling out before the guitars shove everything back into one last chorus. All that money, power and moral superiority, what was it for? ‘Cause you’re still stuck in same deadbeat drag you thought you were so above.
Shirts & Skins
A sharp guitar riff throws everything in motion before the drums come crashing through; straight away Cartel are talking riots, violently turning tables and giving somebody “a little taste of something real.” The verses pick a fight, making the chorus of “No one’s gonna save you” feel strangely triumphant when it arrives. It should probably sound hopeless, instead it sounds like permission to stop waiting around and finally do something.
“Beg for mercy, you’re not fucking worthy” makes it pretty clear that no one’s cooled off during the second verse, with the guitars digging in harder before everything tightens around “this is not a tragedy, it’s criminal activity.” Each accusation lands harder than the last until the whole band come crashing back in for one final reminder; no one’s coming to save you, so you might as well make some fucking noise.
Think Twice
Empty stomach, a spinning mind and nowhere left to hide. “Think Twice” has already got somebody backed up against the wall before the guitars have much of a chance to settle in, with “did you really think you’d get away with it?” landing less like a question and more like a verdict. The verses stay clipped and tense as the lyrics pick through the damage left behind. The chorus is bigger and catchier than the verses, but not any kinder if anything, it gives the warning a hook just might make it harder to escape.
The bridge pulls the song into something heavier, more confrontational, with “standing on business, fucking around just to find out” delivered as the instruments briefly tighten around each line. That restraint doesn’t last long before the drums start driving forward once again, guitars swelling back in and “all you’ve got left to lose” dropping straight into one final chorus. Cartel spend the whole song offering another chance to reconsider, but by the end “You might better think twice” sounds less like advice and more like the ending of a discussion.
Inside Out
‘Gaslit again’ is only two words but it pretty much explains why “Inside Out” spends so much time questioning its own reality. A thick guitar riff drives “where do we begin? Cut to the chase” forward, but that certainty starts slipping with “Wait, wait, no, I must be wrong,” capturing that horrible moment where someone’s lied to you so much you start questioning if you’re the one that’s in the wrong. By “All your lies are dizzying,” Cartel sound sick of going around in circles, with the guitars opening up into a chorus big enough to finally spit “rotting from the inside out” straight back at them.
“You’ll be falling faster with every lie,” drags the song into a heavier bridge, guitars digging underneath every word as falling quickly becomes choking before eventually suffocating. It’s nasty but after spending the first half of the song second guessing everything, “It’s a self-made curse with no one left to blame” finally puts the responsibility where it should have been all along. No more wondering who’s in the wrong; “Inside Out” has that bit figured out.
Give or Take
A steady drumbeat gets “Give or Take” moving before the guitar slides in behind, giving the opening a deceptively easygoing feel for a song about being sick of somebody’s shit. “I’ll shoulder the blame, taking all the shit and no acclaim” quickly starts keeping score while “Who’s been here still cleaning up your mess” makes it pretty obvious that this all of this relationship has been pretty one sided. By the time “You have no ideas, and fuck all for shame” rolls around, its clear to see that whatever patience Cartel started with is running thin. The chorus finally arrives with a catchy “All I ever did was give you everything, and all you ever did was take advantage of me.” This give and take was never balanced, and they’re pissed about it.
“Fuck it” becomes the closest thing the song has to a clean break, kicking it into “Going separate ways” even as “I’m chained to you and you’re stuck with me” admits that leaving is never quite as simple as announcing it. The bridge grows heavier around “Don’t you ever say I didn’t try,” dragging saviors, crucifixion and martyrdom into a song already exhausted by carrying too much. The song keeps returning to “give you everything” but over time, it sounds less wounded and more like evidence of a crime being read aloud.
Rather than ending there, the music drops away into a crackly broadcast voice, which keeps talking before turning into a voice singing the next song’s title in the same sing-song manner as the Mary Poppins’ Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. It’s a ridiculous transition after such a pissed off song, which is probably why it works so well for Cartel.
Supercalapocalypticexpialidocious
For a song with such a ridiculous title, “Supercalapocalypticexpialidocious” is anything but. The broadcast bleeding out of “Give or Take” drops straight into guitars that feel tense from the start with “It’s coming up to the surface, and there’s nowhere to hide” sounding less like a warning and more like something everybody should have already noticed. The verses keep asking increasingly frustrated questions as the drums move everything forward until “Why can’t you see we’re sinking now?” hits and the patience finally runs out. “Call me when you wake up” turns somebody’s refusal to acknowledge the disaster into a massive, shout able hook. Catchy lyrics for an impending doom.
The song only gets more apocalyptic from here. “The fire’s raining down” and “the truth just shook the ground” arrive as the guitars grow heavier, while the question of whether someone “up in the clouds” is coming to save everybody makes blind faith sound like one more excuse to do nothing. The music briefly pulls back around “Out here wasting time,” giving the accusation room to land before the full band kicks back in. By the final “We’re gonna burn alive,” Cartel aren’t trying to be gentle; they’re trying to warn the world.
Sry Not Sry
“How could you do this to me?” A brief swell of feedback barely has time to clear before the drum and guitars come charging in leaving “Sry Not Sry” to spend its opening moments picking through the remains of a friendship that clearly ended badly. “What Did I do to deserve it? Where did I cross the line?” keeps looking for some sort of explanation but “Lamenting this no more” decides that trying to understand someone who fucked you about is overrated. That frustration is soon blown wide open, pairing “Why does it hurt like shit?” with the considerably less forgiving, “I hope it all comes back around.”
There’s a small amount of peace hiding in the second verse particularly around forgiveness, empathy and “You still don’t worn that part of me.” It doesn’t last long though as the bridge takes that ivory tower and burns it to the ground. “You spineless coward” is particularly nasty after spending so much of the song asking how things got this bad. By the time the chorus comes back around, Cartel have their answer and more importantly they’re done making excuses for it. “Sorry it took so long” could technically can be seen as an apology but “It’s about time” sound much more to the point.
Disarmed
A lonely guitar has barely finished picking through the opening before “What the hell is happening?” drags the rest of “Disarmed” crashing in behind it. The drums keep everything moving with nervous urgency while the verses stare directly at a world where nothing feels sacred and staying silent only seems to make everything worse. “How am I supposed to cope? How are we supposed to heal?” gives the chorus its emotional center but doesn’t feel completely defeated by “You’ll find me standing here disarmed.” It feels more like admitting that you have no idea what to really do, and choosing to still stand there which might be the closest thing Learning How To Cope has offered to bravery.
The bridge is where the uncertainty starts growing a spine. “In spite of all the bars you’ve lowered, I will not just run for cover” has the guitars digging harder turning the song from something overwhelmed by violence into something determined not to hand it anymore power. More importantly, it changes who gets to be disarmed. At first, Cartel are standing there powerless, unsure how they’re supposed to cope; by the final chorus, “We’re learning how to cope” and “We’re still holding on to hope” have taken that power back. Now it’s the person responsible for all that violence left with their “hopelessness laid bare, disarmed.” Same word, completely different person holding it.
Everything’s Fine
The title is lying to you. “Everything’s Fine” opens with a clean guitar line and a steady drumbeat, leaving “Trying hard not to think about it” sitting in too much empty space to be convincing. “How do I sunshine this?” would be funny if the answer wasn’t immediately followed by dread, blood and children dying. The guitar swell around “Eyes wide, wish I could shut them,” dragging everything the verses have been unsuccessfully trying not to think about into full view. You can gaslight yourself into thinking everything’s fine as much as you want, but the mess will still be there.
Looking away isn’t working. “Not supposed to talk about it, but I can’t get this shit out of my head” pushes against the sort of silence “Disarmed” already warned only causes more harm whilst “Since when did we not mourn the dead?” lands like a question that shouldn’t need to be asked. “Rinse and repeat it” keeps circling at the end as the guitars and drums peter out, leaving the silence for everyone to sit with.
FINAL THOUGHTS:
Across Learning How To Cope, Cartel are surrounded by gaslighters, deadbeats, cowards, systems collapsing in real time and people who would rather turn a blind eye to what’s happening around them. Coping doesn’t arrive as some clean little breakthrough; sometimes it means cutting ties, sometimes it means getting angry and sometimes, it means just standing there disarmed while you admit you haven’t got a clue what actually comes next. The album starts by demanding an intervention and ends stuck inside another rinse and repeat which isn’t exactly comforting. Still, Cartel have come back after thirteen long years away sounding pissed off, wide awake and unwilling to pretend that life isn’t messy. Everything isn’t fine, but maybe finally admitting that out loud is the whole point.
Learning How To Cope is out September 18th
Upcoming Tour Dates w/State Champs:
November 5 - Allentown, PA - Archer Music Hall
November 6 - Buffalo, NY - Riverworks
November 7 - Indianapolis, IN - Deluxe @ Old National Centre
November 8 - St. Louis, MO - The Pageant
November 10 - Dallas, TX - Echo Lounge
November 12 - Phoenix, AZ - The Van Buren
November 13 - Las Vegas, NV - Brooklyn Bowl
November 14 - Riverside, CA - Riverside Municipal Auditorium
November 15 - Sacramento, CA - Ace of Spades
November 17 - Portland, OR - Roseland Theater
November 18 - Seattle, WA - The Showbox
November 20 - Salt Lake City, UT - Rockwell at The Complex
November 21 - Denver, CO - Summit Music Hall
November 23 - Davenport, IA - Capitol Theatre
November 24 - Louisville, KY - Mercury Ballroom
November 25 - Columbus, OH - Newport Music Hall
November 27 - Sayreville, NJ - Starland Ballroom
November 29 - Baltimore, MD - Nevermore Hall
December 1 - Richmond, VA - The National
December 3 - Nashville, TN - Brooklyn Bowl
December 5 - St. Petersburg, FL - Jannus Live
December 6 - Orlando, FL - House of Blues