On their second album, this year’s Young Enough, Brooklyn power-pop band Charly Bliss documented the simultaneous pain and ecstasy of growing into a better version of yourself. Buoyed by soaring guitar riffs and glittery pop choruses, the album was a self-critical and self-affirming coming-of-age meditation. The songs on their new EP, Supermoon, were recorded at the same time, before the band settled on a final track list. These outtakes provide insight into the ethos behind Young Enough, filling out a mood board of anxiety and romantic alienation. As a study in the process of writing and editing a record, Supermoon is interesting. But on its own, it doesn’t have the same impact.
Similar yet slightly grungier than Young Enough, the songs on Supermoon are dense and sweet like a tub of frosting. The chorus of “Slingshot” hits with the heart-swelling force of a Third Eye Blind anthem and the guitars on “Supermoon” chug like a heartbeat. There’s never a moment that reaches the unbridled euphoria of Young Enough’s “Capacity” or “Blown to Bits,” though. These songs feel unravelled, less determined to deliver neatly packaged hooks.
The greatest departure is in Supermoon’s lyrics. Slivers of bodies, relationships, and emotions—uncrossed legs, twisted arms, festering resentments, declarations of love that sound like threats—shine bright. But you have to squint to see the constellations they form, the bigger picture they’re building towards. “Feed” creates a chorus out of the line, “I would feed the whole world if I could.” It’s a hard sentiment to argue with, the kind that tells us almost nothing about the person saying it. Sandwiched between imagery of expired milk and melted trophies, it’s hard to know exactly what we’re supposed to feel. “Supermoon” and “Slingshot” are similarly opaque, evoking emotional chaos without establishing origins or intentions. It’s understandable that these songs didn’t make the cut for Young Enough, where every track encapsulated the joy of overcoming trauma and practicing self love.
There are still moments when Charly Bliss’ songwriting strikes with full vulnerability and force. On Supermoon highlight “Heaven,” the lyrics are simpler, often only a few syllables per line. Over gauzy, distorted guitar, lead singer Eva Hendricks relays dreamy romantic contentment, culminating in a triumphant declaration of hope: “I’m gonna buy a house and fill it/With daughters and daughters and daughters.” The bright guitar lines of “Threat” coyly conceal the aggravation of a comfortable but unfulfilling romantic relationship. Heartbreaking lines like, “I’d rather be dead than have it be true/That no one can ever love me more than you” are hidden in plain sight.
Creative writing instructors sometimes encourage students to develop a better understanding of their characters by describing the contents of their trash cans. But this kind of exercise is usually one step in a creative process, not the end product itself. By presenting their outtakes, Charly Bliss offer superfans the chance to better appreciate Young Enough by hearing what songs it isn’t. New listeners may wish to start somewhere else: Though fun and propulsive, the songs on Supermoon don’t match the time-stopping, soul-affirming exhilaration that make Charly Bliss’ best music so special.
