Rich People

Exhausted and mentally drained, I refused to miss the Rich People show. Around 4 P.M., I returned from Brooklyn where I saw The Front Bottoms after getting there at 9 A.M. and waiting in line for hours (but that’s another story). Rich People was (and still is) one of my favorite bands and I knew what I was getting myself into when I planned to see them at 7 P.M. and The Front Bottoms at 12 P.M. It’s practically my job to stress myself out.

I could write about how great the openers were and how much I enjoyed them, but when I say I was exhausted and mentally drained, I am not kidding. My head pounded, my bones ached, and my eyes drooped. This is no article glamorizing my experience—I am going to be completely honest with you when I say I was dead.

Thankfully, my friend spontaneously joined me so I wasn’t alone in my suffering. She was fascinated by the whole scene, as I was when I attended my first show at the Amityville Music Hall. At Rich People that night, you could tell the room was filled with lots of supportive friends, many of whom made it known by shouting encouraging words at the performer.

The first time I saw Rich People was back in June at the Creative Corner. They also had a myriad of performers before them that time as well, so many that by the time they went on they only had time for a few songs. “We’re just gonna keep playing until they shut the power off on us,” said Rob Rich, the lead vocalist and guitarist (he didn’t. But it’s fine; no hard feelings).

As soon as Rich People hit the stage, I, the most worn out human being to remain conscious, revived with a passionate energy. It wasn’t the kind where I wanted to jump into the crowd and fervently bang my head to the beat (though I’m sure I will feel that way the next time I see them), but I slouched against the wall and admired the band’s visible devotion as they put everything into their performance and I was mesmerized by the result.

“Dream Envy” is a song that took me longer than it should have for me to appreciate, but watching Rich People play that catchy intro a second time (and it felt as refreshing as the first) inflicted me with a new nostalgia for moments I’ve never even experienced. The song touches on a couple of issues, including the temptation to relapse and the inability to follow through with your ambitions. “I’m standing up but stuck in place,” paints the quintessential metaphorical picture of paralysis that most people undergo when feeling held back. And we can’t help but wonder… what is holding us back? Which is followed by the possibly connected “honestly I just envy the freedoms that I lost” depicting the way an ex-addict may want to return to bad habits because fewer restrictions will prevent them from doing whatever they want to do. It’s all really internal conflict—a product of not knowing what’s truly better for you.

“Back Step,” a song that was unreleased at the time, enticed me with its bouncy rhythm and the intimacy of the lyrics. Since then, the song has been put out and I’ve found myself listening to it on repeat for hours. Like most of their repertoire, the crescendo captures my interest more than anything—the composed verses telling a story, and then the instantaneous burst of emotion exhibited through louder instrumentals and more aggressive vocals. Along with this more underlying aspect, the words drew me in with their personal nature—all the “me”’s and “you”’s forming a scattered theme involving misunderstanding, love, and aloofness. A lyric that caught my attention immediately was “we were downstairs and I was up in my head.” I, personally, adore short and sweet lines that prove that a lot can be said in just a few words. I’m sure this line resonates with anyone who has ever felt alone/isolated when with another person because of all the thoughts swarming their head. Rich People sort of have a thing with short and sweet lines that hook the listener in; “Obscure” was the first song I listened to by Rich People, and not only was I intrigued by the bombarding loudness of the first few seconds, but the first line as well: “I kissed one of my best friends tonight.” Experiencing it for a second time live rejuvenated my appreciation—I’ve listened to that song on so many car rides, so many nights at home, so many strolls through the hallway at school. I can’t hear it without being filled with wistfulness for when I first fell in love with Rich People’s sound.

“Vacation” stands out to me as another highlight of Jacob’s Ladder. Another noteworthy crescendo builds it up, with a reiterated motif of naivety expressing “don’t be sad for me; I’m not the one that got let down.” The song is full of surprises—random breaks in the rhythm, the belting of “they never loved you like I do”, background vocals mixing with lead vocals to contribute to a chanting effect—formulating a nearly five minute mess of emotions. There’s nothing better to immerse yourself in when you’re feeling like an emotional mess yourself; it’s kind of comforting. “Post-Virgin” is also chaotic in its own way with several different unexpected climaxes matched by unsettling lyrics ranging from “and I keep trying my best to disappear” to “and I remember next morning nights and and all the shame and front lawn fights”. The repetition of “and” slickly portrays the constant accumulation of more dangerous situations, more risks being taken, and probably more mistakes being made. The entire song is an ode to a shameful past and the tragedy of moving past it—“there’s no more drugs and I’m alone.”

Rich People’s target audience probably isn’t teenage girls who have never struggled with substance abuse or addiction in general, but here I am. I lose myself in songs in which Rob mourns his old use of heroin and his previous lethal lifestyle, and somehow I feel consoled. Although the prominent themes tend to revolve around mature subjects, there’s an overall relatable factor to it—the inner conflicts, the loneliness that comes when abandoning an old habit that used to remedy your problems, the uncertainty of which path will lead you to where you belong, among a million more crises we all endure. So, don’t let anything stop you from listening to this band. Chances are you’ll derive the same inspiration from it as I do.