To paraphrase Benny Feldman, making music with a comedic slant feels akin to abstract art – in the sense that, upon observing it, the average person might observe that they could likely do it themselves. In both cases, it’s about striking a balance between subversion and subtlety. The songs have to be as catchy and engaging as “serious” music. But the jokes also have to land in order to earn their classification. Anyone could do it, sure, but it’s another thing entirely to do it well.
Throughout the 2020s, few have made abstract art as catchy and funny as Los Angeles trio Cheekface. Podium—which arrived on July 31—is the band’s sixth album overall and fifth of the decade. They’ve been prolific and consistent, angling a sound indebted to college rock and 80s new wave in a manner that feels refreshing rather than recycled.
Their lyrics, delivered in frontman Greg Katz’s droll deadpan, offer endlessly quotable, pertinent and hilarious commentary on our crumbling empire. Given the wealth of sociopolitical material they’ve had to work with over the last five years, it’s no wonder they’ve been so prolific. Perhaps the best way to sum up Cheekface is that they’re funny-strange as much as they’re funny-ha-ha, and Podium contains some of the strongest examples of that balance..
The 13-track effort marks the furthest expansion of the trio sonically, with musical ambitions stretching well beyond the punchline. A flurry of bongos and a groovy bassline turn “I Don’t Work Here” into a dance-punk disco inferno. Meanwhile, the addition of sizzling horns and Motown rhythms on “Peanut Butter Prawns” make the track feel like what would happen if The Jam’s “A Town Called Malice” was discovered by doomscrollers.
Even the tracks that largely strip back to the power-trio format the band originally thrived on have enough variations to feel like a progression. “MFT,” for one, features a surprise lead-vocal turn from secret-weapon bassist Amanda Tannen in its second verse. “No Fly Zone,” meanwhile, slows the pace for an unexpectedly emotional payoff that somehow manages to sneak in a wailing sax solo.
That’s not even mentioning the brilliance of the cowbell-driven “Black Site,” whose opening stanza lands three different jokes at once—a pun, a Killers reference and a Pavement homage—and nails all of them. “I’ve got soul, but I’m not Korea/Korea, Korea, Korea, Korea,” Katz and Tannen shout. You’ve got to join in.
Katz, of course, remains one of the great satirists working today, not just within music, either. His idiosyncratic approach to lyricism ranges from the broadly political to specifically personal, always delivered with a grin and a knowing nod. He understands the severity of ICE’s tyrannical reign over American streets and the rise of neo-Nazis. But on “Discrete,” he refuses to give them any credence. “What if I like being manhandled by goons/With a receding hairline/And a protruding gut/Just like mine?” He fires off.
On “Rent is Down,” he parallels the ongoing cost-of-living crisis with one of the few efficient upsides: you can live rent-free in his head. It’s easy to despair in times like these. But you’ll find more from looking toward the jester than fixing your gaze on those sitting on the thrones above.
To nitpick a little, Podium is the band’s longest album to date at 40 minutes. While that’s not particularly long in the grand scheme of things, it does drag its sneakers slightly when compared to the band’s previous half-hours of power like 2022’s Too Much to Ask or its 2024 follow-up It’s Sorted. The dancey fever dream of “There is a God” also feels like it deserves a much better chorus than its title between synth bleats, especially considering its verses are top-tier storytelling.
All the same, Podium deserves its spot. Even as the world continues to leave us world-weary, it’s comforting to know that Katz and co. will be ready with a whole list full of new insults within the next 12 to 18 months. Vote Cheekface this coming election.
CONE score: 78/100