Originally written by Chris Redar
Well, this certainly came out of nowhere. Jar’d Loose is allegedly from Chicago, and this is also allegedly the band’s second album. I refuse to accept either of these things as fact, however; there’s no way a band this jarringly (pun intended) heavy while having such an ungodly amount of fun could slip underneath my watchful nose for this long. I just…I refuse. It’s not true. Jar’d Loose must not exist.
Turns 13 has everything a modern weird-rock conspiracy theorist would be looking for in an Area 51-type album. Swing and groove for days? Check. Hooks designed to reel in the most elusive of great whites? Check. Enough moss to make a southern-fried sludge enthusiast tight in the jeans? Double check. And I haven’t even mentioned the bratty punk vibe permeating throughout the album. It’s like Jar’d Loose gave so many fucks about fucking shit up that they forgot to give a fuck about you, the listener. It’s perfect.
“The Light Took Us (Black Metal For Pussies)” plays like what I imagine Steve Albini thought In Utero was going to end up as. Every snare hit from Phil Hardman (I hope that’s his real name) sounds like a gunshot accompanying Eddie Gobbo’s obnoxious sneer, itself a combination of Mama Cass choking to death and Axl Rose having an aneurysm. “Summer of Lung” lets the bass very slowly work your last nerve with its one note, many bars tomfoolery. It probably won’t lock in the first time. That’s okay. It’s not for you to enjoy, only to hear. That’s kind of the story of this album; you’re allowed to have fun, and it’s likely that you’re going to, but it’s Jar’d Loose’s party.
There’s a specific moment during “Carrion Guy” that Turns 13 shifts direction and eases up on the in-your-faceness and lets the boogie come out. Follow-up track “Full Body Cast” might as well be in the front row at a monster truck rally, wasted and talking shit to the drivers for not going high enough. It’s just a non-stop display of swingin’ swagger, complete with the titular line being repeated somewhere in the neighborhood of a thousand times during the outro. Don’t like it? Fuck you. Now go wreck that piece of shit into some buses. “Turning 13” achieves the same effect, but it instead lets the sustain do the talking before “The Yarn Store” takes things home in the same fashion things came in- loud, fast, and done in a couple of minutes.
This is a gem if there ever was one for lazy consumers such as myself. Turns 13 is obnoxiously loud, abrasive, potentially irritating, and wholly true to what Jar’d Loose set out to do. Don’t be too surprised when this ends up on my year-end list; unless my memory gets erased by the government between here and December, this one will be getting some serious rotations.
