The widespread growth of North Carolina’s music scene can pretty much be attributed to one headstrong act from Chapel Hill: Superchunk. 

Superchunk helped spearhead the indie rock movement in the Triangle and founded Merge Records, one of the most successful independent labels ever. 

Though the band has been around for almost 25 years, I Hate Music, the band’s 10th full-length album, contains the same brash aesthetics as Superchunk’s early work. However, I Hate Music finds the band in bold new territory. Though Superchunk’s sound remains largely unchanged, the group’s subject matter has become far more mature and somber. 

Longtime bassist Laura Ballance won’t be touring with the band for the first time in its long history due to a hearing issue known as hyperacusis. Basically, Ballance’s 24 years of unabashed rocking out have caught up with her, leaving her with permanent ear damage. 

On top of Ballance’s health complications, the band lost a dear friend, David Doernberg, to cancer. 

In response, the rambunctious middle-aged rockers have taken to their instruments once again to approach the forced realization of mortality. 

“I hate music, what is it worth/it can’t bring anyone back to this earth” vocalist Mac McCaughan belts out in “Me & You & Jackie Mittoo.” 

The lyric that gives the album its name conveys the frustration and desperation that is found within I Hate Music. Despite the fact these musicians have spent the better part of their lives on making music and touring the world, they’re faced with the startling fact that regardless of how important their music is, it ultimately can’t change anything. 

I Hate Music contains what most fans loved about Superchunk’s early work in addition to the kind of depth and maturity that comes with growing older. Death abounds on the record as tracks like “Overflows” and “What Can We Do” attempt to trudge through the wake of a recent loss, while tracks like “Staying Home” and “Out of the Sun” ring out with cries of being alone and “away from everyone.”

The band’s robust rhythm section pounds out a powerful beat that perfectly complements McCaughan’s yelping vocals to create tightly wound indie-rock anthems. 

While a few tracks feel like Superchunk is just pumping the brakes a bit, it’s all done with a precision that ultimately adds to the heightened intensities on the album. Tracks like “Breaking Down,” toward the end of the album, may not be flying at a breakneck speed, but they make tracks like “FOH” more invigorating.

One of the most captivating aspects of the entire album, though, is how the entire thing can appear so upbeat and vivacious on its surface, but once you delve into these lyrics, you’re faced with a bitter sting that reminds you of how fragile life can truly be. I Hate Music conveys many of the emotions that one goes through when grieving; it’s like a musical mood swing that dabbles in both peaks and valleys.

For a group that has so consistently stuck to its guns, I Hate Music finds this iconic North Carolina band delving into bravely humanistic territory. The band that once churned out punk rock anthems now pulls out one-minute odes to staying in and brisk tracks tinged with the stinging reminders of our eventual passing. 

Despite the album’s frustrated refrains, Superchunk clearly doesn’t “hate music.” The band rather embraces music’s therapeutic effects. I Hate Music provides listeners a chance to tune out their woes and tune in to the familiar sounds of four people pouring their hearts out the only way they know how—with uncontainable intensity and a knack for hard-hitting lyricism.