The band share an album full of grief, loss and reflection.

The Story So Far’s discography is no stranger to difficult emotions, but their new album I Want to Disappear does something different: it faces those emotions head on, something that fans like myself may need, without even knowing it.

Undoubtedly, the new album carries that classic The Story So Far sound of melodic aggression; Cannon’s petulant voice, matched with volatile lyrics and infectious fast-paced chords that, if the lyrics weren’t enough, are definitely enough to get you riled up. But while Proper Dose showed the band’s exploration into Britpop (with that iconic Liam Gallagher look fusing into Parker Cannon’s style), I Want to Disappear sees the band’s return to their classic sound, with their experiments taking a backseat, though it’s influence can still be heard. 

What else can be heard is Cannon’s emotional release on the songs – something which the band is no stranger to. Yet these emotions are much more raw, and more complicated. It’s refreshing to hear, but the melodies do pair with this. We hear a variation on the sound the band is famous for, especially in songs like White Shores and Keep You Around, which continue the band’s heavy drums but at a little bit of a slower pace. It’s something that long-time fans might not welcome, but is absolutely worth giving a chance, especially when delving deeper into where those complicated, raw emotions stem from. 

In an interview about the then-upcoming album, Parker Cannon talks frankly about recent losses and grief that can be seen flowing throughout the album. The songs feel a bit more personal, particularly in the title track I Want To Disappear (and what would a pop-punk album be without a heart wrenching acoustic song, anyway?). It’s these deeper, more personal lyrics that are what will make fans connect with this album, especially for me. 

Loss for me, much like this album, has been a significant part of my life; and much like Cannon, something that takes me quite a while to come to terms with. But Cannon’s pivotal grief, the loss of his father, is freshly poured into this album. Cannon’s father had a substantial influence on the band: he discusses in recent interviews how his father would listen to demos from the band to give honest feedback, and the album is a true testament to his father’s legacy, both for the band and in Cannon’s personal life . As someone who lost a father figure — my grandad — ten years ago this year, so many of the album’s lyrics brought up emotions that felt like it happened yesterday.

“How will I get through this? / Shield myself in the colour of your likeness / How am I still new to this? / Cover myself in the shade where I spread your ashes”

It’s an album that pulls you in with the incredible guitar riffs and crashing drums, then keeps you listening with it’s lyrics, as if your own grief, whatever it may be, is rushing into the forefront of your thoughts. It washes over you, and by the time you reach the end, you feel as though you’ve experienced some kind of release. It’s almost therapeutic, as making the album must have been for Cannon. 

Listening to it, it’s impossible to not weave my own grief into the songs. The loss of my grandad was painful in ways only these songs could really capture, as he had a significant part in raising me whilst I spent my childhood living with him, my nan and my mum, and — in the absence of my own father — became a father-figure whose influence still affects me today. 

Another pillar of the band’s grief through this album is the departure of their founding bassist, and that loss of someone still very much alive is what adds even more intricacy to the emotions throughout this album. Even though the band do not comment on this in interviews, you can hear it in so many of the songs. It speaks of those emotions in volume, and there are so many lyrics that voiced the emotions I couldn’t quite vocalize when I myself experienced the same thing, having lost many friends throughout my life. Loss is something we have all experienced in some capacity, and the message that seems to flow throughout this album is that vocalisation of the messy, complicated emotions that come with loss: the anger at those you lose, and at yourself too. The overwhelming pain of grief and the inability to cope it, the hurt at the words left unsaid, and the longing for the chance to say them again, to return to those moments that come into your mind when you least expect it:

“It’s racing around inside my head / All of the things I could have said”

But, finally, with the closing of the album with it’s title track, it brings the acceptance.

“And anywhere you are, it’s never that far from here / And all the things you are, you’ll feel them loud and clear / We’re gonna grow apart and that’s just how it is”

You accept that it’s happened, that you’re okay, and at the end there truly is Nothing To Say. 

I Want To Disappear is out now via Pure Noise Records. Order a physical copy of the album here.

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