Incredible: Paramore. “Pool”. After Laughter. Fueled By Ramen, 2017.

Paramore’s 2017 release After Laughter strayed far from their pop punk roots, and Pool is the ultimate exemplification of the band’s sonic wanderings – like the body of water the song takes its name from, its twinkling synthesizers, waterlogged guitars, and full-bodied drum grooves wash over you like waves.

The intro builds in little layers: first, a line of twinkling, messy, meandering notes, reminiscent of a cascading brook; next, layered over this phrase, a clearer, simpler line with more melodic weight, which is then followed by a steady, scattered drum groove and a guitar jabbing in through a layer of delay; after the melodic line resolves, the bassline enters the mix, grounding the disparate instrumentation, the guitar switches gears from interjection to a steady wave of noise for an encore of the melodic line, and the verse begins.

Williams’ vocals are exquisite, winding up and down the scale with fluid ease, weaving a contrast with the closed, simpler melodies in the instrumentation. The sparkling synths and watery guitars dance around her voice, coloring it in, and although the instrumentation changes tack when the pre-chorus begins, it maintains a continuity that pulls you along with it into the chorus. Listening to the chorus – it’s like arriving at school thinking it’s a half day and discovering that school is canceled for the rest of the week. It’s like opening a candy bar and finding out that, due to a freak error on the production line, your candy bar contains $5,000 in hard cash instead of 17 grams of nougat. It’s as delightful an improvement on something that was already great as you’re likely to get. Retaining the steady sonic flow established in previous sections while changing the rhythms is no mean feat, but Pool pulls it off with style, with another layer of breathy vocals and a tastefully phrased guitar line that’s almost hidden underneath all the space Williams’ voice takes up.

The next verse and the bridge keep things fresh, changing up the quiet little melodies in the background while perfectly complementing Williams’ careening vocals. The song’s momentum stays strong, similar to a wave- its energy rises and falls, masterfully choreographed. Pool is a triumph of intelligent pop songwriting: it’s lush, perfectly saturated, and leaves you dusted with a quiet satisfaction once its runtime ends.

Unbearable: Paramore. “Now”. Paramore. Fueled By Ramen, 2013.

Paramore’s self-titled album had them caught between genres, pulled in disparate sonic directions: sometimes, as in the case of songs like Anklebiters, this indecisive sound worked magic – but on other, less fortunate tracks, such as the lackluster Now, all that was produced was a messy, incomplete hodgepodge.

The song opens with its chorus, which is never a good sign – that’s the songwriting equivalent of telling everyone the exact details of how Dumbledore dies in chapter one. It’s just unnecessary and disappointing, which is a good summary of Now as a whole. After the chorus comes the verse, which is unpleasantly saturated with a wave of distorted guitar and lyrics that are, in comparison to the rest of Paramore’s repertoire, fatiguing incoherent. The chorus comes back; it’s one line, sung four (4) times – the words themselves are a cry for promises of a glorious future to manifest here and now, and in my humble opinion would have retained their impact if they weren’t sung four times in each chorus. It doesn’t get much better from there: the chorus just keeps coming back, over and over, delivering nothing of musical import or satisfaction but expecting you to spring to your feet and cheer, nonetheless. It’s self-indulgent, like a certain electronics manufacturer that rhymes with ‘bapple’, and it thoroughly fails in getting you to stomp your feet, which is arguably the intended ethos of most Paramore songs.

Now disappoints more with every passing moment, with its little charm being matched by the battery of an iPhone. Its textures lack finesse, its lyrics alternate between aimless meandering and tiring repetition, and it leaves you dusted with nothing but a patina of frustration once it has run its course.