Songs From Northern Torrance is Joyce Manor At Their Weirdest
California’s beloved Joyce Manor revisit old material, and it’s proof they’re one of the best bands in emo and pop punk

If you didn’t know that emo-punk rockers Joyce Manor are from Torrance—or, more specifically, Northern Torrance—you do now. And if you didn’t know anything else about them at all, this record will tell you everything you need to know.
Songs From Northern Torrance is the Californian four-piece’s chance at reviving old material. The band recently pulled their gritty compilation album Collection from streaming apps, upsetting punks everywhere. It contained fan favorites like the explosive “5 Beer Plan” and the eccentric “Chumped.” Joyce Manor have never been the type of band to ignore past albums, so there had to be an explanation for this. And the explanation turned this loss into a celebration: The dudes have remastered stuff from Collection, along with unreleased gems recorded between 2008 and 2010, to create Songs From Northern Torrance.
Joyce Manor’s retreat to their stripped-down punk roots on Songs From Northern Torrance after the gradual cleaning-up of their emo-pop-punk with latest records Million Dollars To Kill Me and Cody is a genius and refreshing move. The first track, “House Warning Party,” is a classic amongst the fanbase. It’s the obscure song that the annoying die-hard fan will yell at the band to perform during a set. Is it that good? No. It’s just weird. It’s peak Joyce Manor weirdness. Only they can get away with the lyrics “Yeah, your dad / he was a cop and punched me right in the head / You said ‘Fuck you, Dad! I hate you!’ and that’s just what you meant.” It’s an enigmatic love song you can imagine hearing at a skatepark. Even with all its bitterness and frustration, this song has, at its core, warm adolescent affection that hits hard because of its contrast with all the sloppy angst: “It’s true that I still love you / For how long I could never tell.”
It’s this fragmented storytelling that pushes Joyce Manor ahead. There’s charm in the vague sense of Midwest tradition: “But my grandma was a waitress / My mom was a waitress / And I am a waitress too,” which then gets twisted into the punk: “But your dad was a cop / I bet his dad was a cop / Yeah but you’re no cop you see.” Even though songwriter Barry Johnson is writing from a perspective far removed from his own, he yells convincingly and fervently, becoming a character of his own making.