By all accounts, God Save the Gun, Militarie Gun’s sophomore album, has a lot going on—both on the surface and beneath it. It marks a bold leap forward for the Los Angeles based band, conceptually and artistically, pulling in new sounds, raw reflections on self-destruction, and some nineties ethos. At face value, it’s a concept album about hitting rock bottom and the arc of that crashing, burning, rebuilding, and repeating. It’s a window into Ian Shelton’s psyche following their debut Life Under the Gun, as Militarie Gun navigates their rise and the sobering realization that success can blur the line between observer and subject. It’s a vulnerable portrait of Shelton at his lowest, wrestling with addiction, depression, and the urge to slip back into self-destructive habits. Sonically, the album also feels like an ode to the bands and genres that carried him through those times.
“Pt. II” kicks things off with a distorted spoken word piece of Shelton responding to how he’s been. Judging by his bruised, defeated face on the album’s cover, it’s not good. It is “B.A.D,” to be exact, as it drops straight into lead single “B.A.D.I.D.E.A,” an arena-sized power-punk anthem Shelton originally wrote for Doja Cat, when she expressed interest in making a hardcore punk album two years ago. That might sound odd, but Militarie Gun has been hovering at the edge of pop culture for a while. Post Malone is a fan, and there is a viral video of him singing along with Shelton to “Do It Faster” backstage. The band also contributed an instrumental track for Malone’s character in the WWE 2K24 video game. God Save the Gun was produced by Riley MacIntyre (Adele, LCD Soundsystem, Arlo Parks), a collaborator whose pop pedigree seeps into the record’s undeniable hooks and polished sense of melody. But despite that, nothing on this record feels like a forced grab at stardom. It is simply a progression of Militarie Gun’s sound with layers of synth and vocal experimentation added in.
The “B.A.D” thread runs through the first half of the record, with tension building on tracks like the self-deprecating “Throw Me Away,” where Shelton admits, “I wouldn’t wish me on anyone.” The arc of self-actualization begins with the synth-driven standout “God Owes Me Money,” a song wrestling with the idea that if life dealt you a shitty hand, surely you are owed something better down the line. But of course, nothing is owed. It’s a truth that you have to make peace with. The mirror eventually reflects the damage of alcohol abuse onto Shelton, something he grew up around and now finds himself indulging. That shift gives way to songs of reflection and ruin, where self-evaluation quickly turns to self-destruction, like “Maybe I’ll Burn My Life Down,” which has a chorus that honestly sounds like a hardcore sneeze scream. “AH ACHOO ACHOO!” I have no clue what he is actually yelling, but it is catchy and in a similar fashion to Shelton’s signature “Ooh! Ooh!” grunt.
Ultimately, the journey crescendos with “I Won’t Murder Your Friend,” where Shelton is at his most vulnerable. It’s a song about suicide, but not from the usual perspective of someone in despair and on the edge. Instead, Shelton reflects on the impact a death has on everyone else and the selfishness of it all. Inspired by a David Choe audio clip about Anthony Bourdain’s death, “I Won’t Murder Your Friend” is heavy on paper, but Shelton delivers it with such drive and melody you can’t help but feel lifted up. His recent chat on Jeremy Bolm’s First Ever Podcast offered a window into the sounds rattling around his head: Antenna, Modest Mouse, and other off-kilter indie touchstones, and those influences echo throughout the record. With Isaac Brock himself showing up for a rare guest spot on “Isaac’s Song,” Militarie Gun prove they can wear their influences loud and still sound unmistakably like themselves.
Militarie Gun rose up around the same time as a new wave of groups bringing hardcore energy into the mainstream, and while many peers have gotten lost in the sauce on their follow-ups, overproducing and experimenting just for the sake of it, like TURNSTILE earlier this year, God Save the Gun strikes the balance perfectly. The band experiments plenty without ever feeling overstuffed; everything new adds to their core sound instead of drowning it out. The pop-hardcore energy first teased on Life Under the Gun is ever-present, but it’s evolved into something sharper and more refined—a version of the band that feels fully realized. It’s a record that turns struggle into something anthemic, the kind of rock album that demands to be felt as much as it is heard.
