Only Matt Pryor can make the line “If the bastard ever shows his face again, he’ll get his” come across as beautifully non-confrontational. It’s been nearly four years since the beloved frontman released musical poetry in the form of a full length. His first solo effort, Confidence Man, was fully equipped with heart-wrenching sentimentality and dynamic simplicity – something that Pryor seems to emit when he has control over every aspect of the writing and recording process. May Day, his second solo production, continues in this vein of acoustic dynamism and emotional light heartedness. 

Bastards and lies are the paints that make up May Day’scanvas. Pryor seems to be singing from a place of empty hopefulness, but complements this with bouncy acoustic rhythms and peppy Casio riffs. The opening few tracks vary in cadence and energy levels, yet the mixed feeling of optimistic cynicism remains constant. “The Lies are Keeping Me Here” and “Where Do We Go From Here” veil Pryor’s cynical side with rambley, head bopping melodies.

The long-awaited sadness sets in with “Like a Professional.” Maybe the emo-nature of it all comes from the electric piano’s tremolo. Or maybe from the fact that the rhythm guitar sounds like it’s being picked with a dull thumbnail. Or it could be the way Pryor’s voice drops off gracefully at the end of each phrase. As if it’s leaping from a lonely bridge. Whatever its origin, the less-than-three-minute moment of slowed sadness ends all too quickly.

Upbeat harmonica leads and tambourine-esque percussion revives energy for the listener in the next couple of tracks. Despite the downer nature of the lyrics – “You came home repenting // Look at the wretched state you’re in // As if I could fall in love with you again” – Pryor makes the song sound as if it is laughing. Whether it’s the ukulele, simple finger-picking, or that slight grin one can hear in Pryor’s voice, May Day is able to bring both a smile and downturned eyes to the listener’s face.

Lyrically, the album does not waver in its sentiment. However, it is only on second, third, or seventh listen that one is able to catch the subtle ironies of Pryor’s poetry. This may be due to the smoothness of each song – a milky blend of instrumentation, vocals, poetry, and production. The album becomes an emo-folk labyrinth that only a dedicated listener can escape. The meaning of Pryor’s lyrics becomes entangled with the up-then-down-and-up-again nature of the instrumentation. During one listen, “You Won’t Get Any Blood From Me” may incite one emotion, but on another listen, the same track will translate completely differently.

For the most part, May Day takes the reader on a rollercoaster journey. However, the album ends in the same place it begins. “What My Tired Eyes Would View” brings the listener back to what “Don’t Let the Bastards Get You Down” instigated – a simple and honest highlight reel, flickering images of one man’s stories about love, deceit, and hope. 

★★★★.5/★★★★★

*This review was composed by Cydney Hedgpeth