Joyce Manor shares pop, punk and heartbreak in new album

By Marissa Spencer

The first time I heard Chase Knobbe’s guitar wail in “Constant Headache,” I knew I would be spending my part-time hostess paycheck on Joyce Manor concert tickets the second that deposit hit my bank account. The Southern California-based pop-punk group has since become a constant in almost all of my Spotify playlists. 

After a COVID-19 pandemic-induced hiatus from recording, the trio has recently released their seventh studio album, “I Used To Go To This Bar,” from Brett Gurewitz of Bad Religion’s record label, Epitaph Records. Manor recorded the nine-song record at Dave’s Room Recording Studio, formerly Mama Jo’s in Northern Hollywood, known for housing artists such as Bob Dylan, Marilyn Manson and Meghan Trainor. 

While the group is most known for their contribution to the emo revival scene, “I Used to Go to This Bar” drives itself into the world of pop punk, joining the ranks of Blink-182, Neck Deep and others alike. The record blends the slight hardcore elements of their first self-titled album, with melodic indie acoustic guitar, making it increasingly more diverse as the band heads for more mainstream audiences. Personally, upon release, this had me a bit bummed, knowing yet another American punk group was becoming more commercialized. However, the record speaks for itself and steers frontman Barry Johnson into the spotlight he deserves. 

The first released song, “All My Friends Are So Depressed,” was taken to radio and eventually made its way onto Billboard’s Alternative Airplay Chart upon release. The song details heartbreak, depression, songwriting and the mechanisms used to cope in dark times. While I enjoyed this tune, I did not find it very Manor-esque. 

When the album’s first track, “I Know Where Mark Chen Lives” was released I remembered exactly why I had fallen in love with these California legends in the first place. 

“I Know Where Mark Chen Lives” was on repeat in my car for days. The isolated vocals toward the end of the song, where the chorus repeats itself, “Train coming down the track and it almost gave me a heart attack,” had me yearning for future evenings spent at the Stone Pony Summer Stage, screaming my heart out at a concert along the boardwalk. Luckily for fans, the group is set to open for Hot Mulligan in Asbury Park this June. 

“Falling Into It,” the album’s second song, blends technical synth elements with a lighter guitar melody before it peaks towards the end with their usual punk flair. The fourth track, “Well, Whatever It Was,” reminds me of early 2000s pop punk fused with a bit of a “Sugar Ray” like influence, again perfect for the warmer months ahead. 

The title track is bright in tone, despite its melancholic lyrics, where Johnson reminisces on his days at what can be assumed to be a dive bar where he regularly hung out amidst a younger heartbreak of his. He opens up about the common downfalls in young love and how the halt that it brings hits you disastrously hard. It is the type of heartbreak you experience young, when it is impossible to believe you will find the counterpart likely to suit you far better in the future. Spoiler alert: you will, and so did Johnson celebrating his four year marriage anniversary with his wife, Allie, later this year. 

The record’s sixth song, proceeding after the title track, is similar in theme; Johnson’s lyricism plucks you from your heartbroken state and provides you with the hope of finding someone new in your post-dysfunctional and single world. “But I’m through feeling blue, and it’s all because of you, and all that you put me through,” Knobbe’s guitar line in “After All You Put Me Through” backs up these words seamlessly, providing an uplifting background to the frontman’s lyrical woes. 

By the time you have made it to the seventh track, “The Opossum,” Johnson’s lyrics indicate his freedom from his aforementioned lover’s clutch: “I’ve fallen farther from your heart, your song of despair won’t even tear me apart.” “The Oppossum” opens with some good old-fashioned thrashing from drum kit legend Joey Waronker, who has performed with Oasis on their most recent 2025 stadium tour, BECK and R.E.M., further solidifying the group’s keen ear for alternative sound. 

The second-to-last track, “Well, Don’t It seem Like You’ve Been Here Before,” is a personal favorite of mine, opening up with Johnson’s layered vocals, which has always been a guilty pleasure of mine. If I love your sound already, of course I want to hear from a pre-recorded secondary slice of your soul. Plus, when I sing along in the car, I can pretend we are screeching out the jam together. A simple tactic I have always adored, one that makes fans feel as though they are a part of the crowd. 

Finally, the record concludes with “Grey Guitar,” which takes home the silver trophy for my second-favorite song on the album. The song details the passing of a friend and the grief imposed by such circumstances. The listener is taken on a constant journey of remembrance and past trauma observed through the lens of Johnson’s libretto. 

Through tangible yet striking vignettes of heartbreak, loss, friendship and nostalgia, Joyce Manor lyrically advances itself further than ever before, inviting the audience into their world, leading into their hearts, earning a four out of five star rating from this long-time fan. “I Used To Go To This Bar” propels this American punk trio into the realm of mainstream acclaim with its popular music influences, vast instrumental arrangements and intimate portrayals of love and loss. I sincerely hope we, as an audience, are granted another glimpse into Johnson’s world for future albums to come. 

Marissa Spencer is a senior journalism and musical theater major