Car Seat Headrest made My Back Is Killing Me Baby as a private record, and it plays like one — a set of songs about loneliness, fear, and the small humiliations of daily life, delivered in a cracked, unguarded voice. It is not a polished pop album. It is a confession, and the best tracks here earn their place because they refuse to smooth over anything. The record runs eleven tracks and 46 minutes, and it is best heard in order, letting the tension build between the quiet numbers and the bursts of noise that break through.
The Drum Opens the Record
the drum starts the album with a slow, uneasy crawl, all low strings and a voice that sounds like it is being pulled apart by its own words. It sets the tone immediately — this is music that wants to unsettle you, not comfort you. happy news for sadness follows with a brighter melody, but the lyrics keep circling back to dread, and the contrast between the tune and the content makes it one of the record’s sharpest moments.
Stoop Kid Through Surf Jerk
stoop kid is a character study in miniature, a portrait of a lonely kid who watches others from the sidelines. It is specific and exact, the kind of song that shows Car Seat Headrest’s gift for finding the strange in the ordinary. surf jerk is the shortest track here, a burst of energy that feels almost playful after the heaviness of what comes before it, though it does not linger long enough to leave much of an impression.
Something Soon and No Passion
something soon slows things down again, a gentle, aching ballad that carries real weight in its simplicity. It is one of the record’s most affecting moments. no passion follows and leans into the title — a restless, uneasy track that never quite finds its footing, more interesting for its frustration than its resolution.
Strangers and Lawns
strangers is a long, winding song that builds slowly toward a climax, full of images that feel half-remembered and half-invented. It is ambitious and often brilliant, though it stretches past its welcome in its middle stretch. lawns closes the middle section with a quieter, more reflective mood, a brief pause before the record’s final push.
A Pleasant Sort of Terror Through Open-Mouthed Boy
a pleasant sort of terror is a short, sharp jolt of noise, a reminder that the record is not entirely comfortable. I CAN TALK WITH MY EYES SHUT is the centerpiece — a seven-minute epic that moves through a series of scenes and voices, building from quiet to a full, chaotic release. It is the track where the record’s ambition pays off most fully, a song that earns its length through constant motion rather than repetition. open-mouthed boy ends the album on a note of quiet resignation, a soft, sad coda that brings the record back to its starting point of isolation.
The Verdict
My Back Is Killing Me Baby is a record of extremes — quiet, tender moments sit beside bursts of noise, and the contrast between the two is what gives the album its power. The weaker tracks — surf jerk, no passion — exist mainly to separate the stronger ones, and the album would be better served by cutting them rather than padding the running time. But the strong tracks — the drum, happy news for sadness, something soon, I CAN TALK WITH MY EYES SHUT — are truly excellent, some of the most honest and exact writing Car Seat Headrest has committed to tape.
“I CAN TALK WITH MY EYES SHUT”
This is a record that rewards patience and punishes skimming. It asks you to sit with discomfort, and it delivers real payoff for doing so. It is not a perfect album, but it is a sincere one, and sincerity counts for a great deal when the music is this good.
- the drum3:53
- happy news for sadness4:57
- stoop kid4:28
- surf jerk2:32
- something soon4:22
- no passion2:56
- strangers5:52
- a pleasant sort of terror3:04
- lawns3:46
- I CAN TALK WITH MY EYES SHUT7:36
- open-mouthed boy2:59
