Bully — SUGAREGG

Part 1. Where I talk about Bully’s third album, SUGAREGG: a good album that I like.

Bully is a (once three-piece, but now) solo project of American singer-guitarist Alicia Bognanno’s. The music on the outfit’s third album, its first as a solo act, covers a lot of ground across the alternative spectrum: from grunge to high-intensity alt-rock, from punkish to garage rock.

Both sonically and lyrically, the album is fairly straightforward: SUGAREGG continues the rich tradition of solipsistic punk-inspired grungy garage rock shout-alongs pioneered by Nirvana, the OGs not only of grunge, but also of the subgenre of the emotional shout-along. 

Plenty has since been added to this tradition, and I’m sure there is plenty more left to add. In fact, after decades of addition in the post-grunge alt-rock world of the nineties, and the post-2000s indie world, what was once a niche has become a well-populated subgenre of rock music: mental-health rock. Loud lo-fi about overcoming one’s personal struggles, and how these struggles, when juxtaposed with the state of modern consumerist/capitalist/fill-in-political-ideology-of-choice society, represent a rot at said society's very core; a rot that needs expunging, much like one’s personal demons. Just like fast fashion, once a niche in the apparel industry, evolved to become an industry of its own due to Zara’s success, loud mental-health rock too has gone from being a niche innovation to becoming an industry of its own.

Now before you think this is going to be a drive-by pooping, let me clarify that it absolutely isn’t. I love the idea of an artist pursuing an explanation of life, specifically when it’s their own life they’re trying to explain. When expressed authentically, like in SUGAREGG, there is power in the journey of self-discovery. For context, Alicia Bognanno was diagnosed with Bipolar II before the making of SUGAREGG, and a lot of the album deals with her experiences of the condition and the aftermath of the diagnosis.

There’s catharsis in realising that even if your brain chemistry sometimes gets in the way of a better life, you deserve a good life. There is particular catharsis to shouting this realisation over crunchy power chords, like in Like Fire: “I felt so high / could’ve took my life, couldn’t tell you why” or Stuck in Your Head: “I wanna be in touch / feel a little less disconnected / without the crutch.” There are instances like this littered throughout the album, so by the time you reach the album closer, What I Wanted, with its refrain of “I don’t know what I wanted”, you really relate with Bognanno, you feel her pain.

I’m all for it, which is why I’m even spending any time at all talking about this album. It’s because I like it.

Part 2. Where I wonder why creative people make things at all.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about creating things that fall within a particular artistic tradition, and that aim to add to a canon. The question I’ve found myself grappling with is the same self-doubt that most creative people grapple with: does another corner on the internet need to go to talking about the intersection between the arts and tech? In a world with Zara and Forever 21 and H&M, and now after the fast fashion revolution, Bloomingdales and GAP and every other apparel company, does the world really need another fast fashion company? In a world with Nirvana and Courtney Barnett and Jawbreaker and Savages and Meat Wave, does the world really need SUGAREGG by Bully?

I know it isn’t fair to be comparing these. After all, we know these things to be true:

·      Oscar Wilde once said, ‘all art is useless’.

·      Art is made because its maker needs to make it.

·      Art is published because the artist longs for community.

·      It follows that art is made and shared due to an innate need of the artist to relate to others the way they see the world.

So let me get concrete with what I’ve really been considering. Does the world need another person in the internet talking about the arts and tech? I feel like it could use several; particularly me. If pressed on why I think so, I can speak to my personal experiences being unique but relatable. The key is the buzzwords I use to define myself has a large union set, but an intersection set that contains not too many people, maybe only one: tech guy, Indian of the southern variety, member of the Indian diaspora, musician of both the composing and performing kinds, published writer, a man with a deeply personal interest in societies not taking a bigoted view on mixing between people of different races, religions, creeds and cultures, nerd of both the music and broader consumable culture variety, anxiety haver, et cetera, et cetera. Fact is, the longer the list, the stronger the case that I have something to say that matters. When I tell you my story, no matter how self-absorbed it sounds to me, and it does, it elevates the creative act from yet another dude talking about his love for tech and the arts online to this particular person talking about tech and the arts online. But does the world need it? After all, I’m not a bona fide tastemaker of any sort. And it isn’t really what I want to be. I don’t want to be the guy anybody turns to to get permission for liking something. I find that sort of stuff obscene.

Part 3. Where I connect the dots.

So I turned to this question as a proxy: does the world need SUGAREGG? Well I certainly think so. I’ve greatly benefitted from hearing it. To say it’s changed my life would be a stretch, but it certainly felt good hearing someone have those cathartic moments on the record. I certainly felt a little lighter for having heard someone deal with their struggles and seemingly emerge on the other side. It made me feel less alone.

And isn’t that the real meaning of community? When I say a creative type puts out what they make because they feel the need for a sense of community, isn’t that also why we listen to music, why we hear others tell us their stories. Just as a creator craves community, so does an audience. That’s art’s utility. That’s why the world needs SUPEREGG, even if it has had plenty of loud emotional guitar-based music in the past. Because the album tells a deeply personal story in an incredibly relatable and cathartic way, which I’d argue is the job of a lot of music, particularly in this genre. It’s a good album. And just because of how you feel after you’re done listening to it, I recommend a listen.

Standout tracks: Every Tradition, Where To Start, You, Like Fire, What I Wanted.

Get it on Spotify or Bandcamp or any of the other platforms.