Archie Powell & The Exports makes the decline sound so fun.
They make failure feel like the best that entertainment can get.
It's nothing like getting a kiss from an old lady in a nursing home, but more like a kick in the pants by an upbeat wino who's always got some port to share.
There's little to be overjoyed about in his stories. They are all setups. They're going to have horrible falls. They will spill themselves all over the sidewalk below their windows.
These songs are glorious attempts to glorify the hapless efforts of those who always believe there's a garbage-y smell coming from somewhere.
These are tales of the disenchanted, by young men who are struggling to pay the rent and for that reason alone, everything feels pretty fucked. It's a crowded rat race and the only thing keeping most of us going is the readily available free wifi, if you can just find the sweet spots.
Powell even sings about the irksome feeling that comes with a sense that things might be moving in the right direction, when he offers, "You say that you're onto something but it's likely that you're screwed because the tunes aren't enough and there's only so much you can do." It's where it always leads, toward that frustrating oblivion.