_{By Michael Luce}

Sego sucks.

At least that’s what everyone said. I thought so too after seeing them live in 2016 with my cousin who told me they sucked. She was older and cooler than me, so I figured her music opinions were just objectively correct. Sego sucks.

Although the band was thrilled to attract haters, they were still surrounded by 2010s internet opinions that threatened to derail their focus. “When we began, I think we got too much attention too fast,” said frontman Spencer Petersen. “It took us a little bit to catch up with what was being expected of us.” Their second album became a critical chance to show what the ‘real’ Sego was.

So, the band stopped bothering with expectations and converted #SEGOSUCKS into a rallying cry for their fanbase. You might think it risky to use hate comments to name your album, but [Sego Might not be Your Speed, Though They’re Having Fun Doing What They’re Doing] is a significantly less compelling title. Sego Sucks was the announcement Sego was officially done giving a fr*ck what anyone thought about them.

And boy does this album not give a fr*ck what you think. Sego Sucks is abrasive, angular, and rusty – just daring you to ask it to care about anything you say. Nothing about this album is squeaky clean, and you’d be hard-pressed to find anyone arguing this album is overproduced. It’s just good-ol indie-alternative: solid music with a fistful of dirt and gravel on the side.

The album’s opener “Neon Me Out” feels like you’ve gotten lost and wandered into a basement jam session until the track splits open into a huge anthemic chorus. The transition evokes a cult classic film title sequence (à la Scott Pilgrim vs the World), and I’m legitimately impressed how the effortless and indifferent verses of this album consistently mesh with sing-along power choruses that would make even Coldplay jealous.

Sego’s signature sincerity draped in a blanket of apathy is on full display during tracks like “Whatever Forever” or “Sucker/Saint,” and the album concludes with the melancholy “Coming Home” as Sego sends you off with a wry smile and sarcastically blown kiss. My personal favorite is “Heart Attack”; the repeated dissonance of the guitar riff builds a crunchy tension that comes crumbling down into a euphoric chorus complete with catchy group chants of “ayayay.” The whole track drips with goofy ironic contentment. It may have hurt my head during the first listen, but the crunch and mess of the track is just so addictive and downright catchy.

The style does wear a bit thin by the end of the album, as the unfortunate truth about nailing a particular sound means everything blends together. Despite several listens, I struggled to remember each song, as even tracks like “Anvil Hands,” which leans into ballad territory, are smothered with the same fuzzed-out vocals and backing textures as everything else. To me, Sego Sucks sounds like a group who found what works and what they want to be but are still growing into bigger and better things. Granted, I have the benefit of hindsight and can hear the evolution in their more recent tracks like the ambitious 17-minute “Life With Pam” or their excellent pre-third album singles.

And so, I repent for my naïve beliefs of yesteryear. Sego isn’t bad; I just didn’t like their music. But as Spencer Petersen told me: “You don’t have to love this. You might not. I hope you do, but it’s OK either way.”

Sego still sucks, but I mean that like a fan now. Make sure to follow Sego on Instagram. You can listen to “Heart Attack” below!