Japandroids Return for One Final Ride
Photo by Dan Monick
It seems fitting that a band whose entire ethos is about squeezing every little last drop out of life has announced their return, with a caveat that their latest album will also be their final one.
Japandroids, the dude-rock duo out of Vancouver composed of singer/guitarist Brian King and drummer David Prowse, have never been the most gifted lyricists or technically adroit musicians. But their music has always been deeply resonant and emotive because every song feels like the ultimate do-or-die moment—their entire catalog is made from the same tendons and sinews as “Born to Run” and “Bastards of Young.”
They sing raucously about hanging with your friends and drinking and falling in love with girls who have wet hair (and they do so without mining tropes of toxic masculinity), but always with that ominous specter of time in the backdrop.
They know all too well that life is short, and youth is fleeting—an acknowledgement that adds melancholy to their tales while also heightening every emotion imaginable. The Japandroids don’t party like there is no tomorrow—they party knowing full well that tomorrow will come, and you will be old when it does. But you’re young tonight, so don’t hold back.
All the urgency and precious appreciation will take on a new level now, with last week’s announcement that the band’s fourth studio album, “Fate and Alcohol,” (the most Japandroids-y album title ever) will also be their last.
That news, which came after some six years of inactivity, was paired with the release of their latest single, "Chicago," a track that could not be a more fitting send-off for the band. A slow-burning masterpiece, the song captures all the Japandroids hallmarks—it’s an ode to drinking too much, staying up too late and acknowledging that this behavior can’t last forever. It’s probably their finest song since “Celebration Rock” came out in 2012.
The band hasn’t released any tour dates yet, but surely that news is coming soon. The Japandroids' experience can’t be fully realized unless it’s in a live setting. Once those farewell shows happen, there will certainly be plenty of tears in beers. But those won’t come in service of sadness—they’ll be in recognition of all that’s happened.