Pacing – PL*NET F*TNESS | Album Review
/
Asian Man Records
In her essay “The Flesh, It Makes You Crazy,” critic and philosopher Becca Rothfeld compares the body horror in David Cronenberg films to falling in love with her husband, writing that “the apartness of this person and this person alone is transmuted into injury. Desire is one cataclysm that renders us alien in our bodies.” Rothfeld is specifically referring to her sexual desire for her husband, but that desire to merge extends beyond the realm of fleshly pleasures. Every time I have fallen in love with someone, romantically or platonically, I’ve wanted to know everything – to be brought into the folds of my beloved's mind. On her second official LP, PL*NET F*TNESS, San Jose anti-folk artist Pacing has collected a series of songs about straining against the boundaries of bureaucracy, iPad screens, and death in search of the kind of connection that feels like a merging of spirits and bodies.
Pacing is the project of Katie McTigue, who, after a series of singles and a mixtape, released her debut album in 2023, the impeccably titled real poetry is always about plants and birds and trees and the animals and milk and honey breathing in the pink but real life is behind a screen. real poetry is an album full of songs about an anxious mind trying to survive. The gorgeous “The Attic / Ghostbusters” sees her fantasizing about turning into a ghost so she can’t take up any space. When she does try to take up space on “Live / Laugh / Love,” she demonstrates the feeble bravado of anxious artistic folks crumbling with the perfect line “If you don’t want to be my friend / I don’t blame you that’s probably smart / but if you don’t like this song / why don’t you just rip out my heart.”
PL*NET F*TNESS continues those anxious threads with its lead single and title track, where we find McTigue cleaning up her father’s affairs after he’s passed, specifically struggling with turning his phone back on “‘cause I don’t really wanna talk to anyone who knows you better than I do.” McTigue sings with such haunted desire from the perspective of company policy that requires in-person membership cancellation, but it also sounds like her struggle to let go. “Pl*net F*tness,” the song, is the perfect distillation of what makes Pacing such a compelling project; as McTigue mixes bright, upbeat instrumentals with her expressive voice, singing laments over her inability to call her doctor or face the clerk at the gym.
“Pl*net F*tness” is just one example on this record that demonstrates why McTigue is one of our best chroniclers of modern disconnection. That schism is obvious when she sings “Sometimes the best part of my day is being in the car” on the jangly new wave “Nothing! (I wanna do).” Backed by fellow San Jose rockers Star 99 on “Love Island,” McTigue derides the banality of interpersonal office relationships, singing, “everyone is talking past each other / and not saying anything,” and that throughout the day, “I never talk to anybody who I wanna talk to.” It is all the sucky shit we have to deal with every day that makes it worthwhile when you do get to talk to your best friend and slip into that easy flow about your favorite shows or sex dreams and insecurities, as highlighted on “Things we bought tickets for.” When my best friend was in New York for work and we got to see each other in person for the first time in two years, it was such a relief to slip back into that patter we had established when we met in freshman year of high school because it meant we still loved each other despite the distance.
How McTigue incisively illuminates interpersonal innate understanding through minute interactions is one of her greatest strengths. Despite hearing the Jeff Rosenstock-esque “parking ticket song” already on this years songs mini album, the line about McTigue and her husband laughing together after she freezes up over a forgotten parking ticket is one of the most euphoric moments on PL*NET F*TNESS. McTigue paints a picture of the non-judgmental intimacy we all want out of love with this anecdote, an example that love isn’t in the big gestures, but in showing your fleshy underbelly and trusting it will be held gently. The other line that gives me a similar feeling is on the fingerpicked first half of “True Crime / birthday song,” when McTigue sings “I never think about these things / like did I lock the door / when you're there / because I know you did.” The sense of ease and peace these lines evoke is the same as I felt when a friend recently told me that when they’re around me they feel comfortable, confident, and at ease. As an anxious woman, uncomfortable everywhere, it was the best compliment I had ever received because that is how I feel around them.
The other thing about McTigue is that she is a decidedly funny songwriter. Take, for example, “Mastering Positional Chess,” where McTigue sings about a parasocial relationship with a chess YouTuber and her declaration that “I’m very reasonable.” McTigue is full of quippy one-liners from “you say you need space / well I hate space / I think it’s a waste of / tax dollars” on the opener to her proclamation that, “I’m on Strike! / Mentally!” on “Love Island.” It is also inherently amusing to repurpose Mr. Rogers’ lyrics from a song about kids not needing to worry about getting sucked down the drain of their tubs and set them against a disquieting instrumental, interpreting them as about a cult leader. “Never Go Down” could have come across as a silly bit, but it is my favorite track on the record because it is a gorgeous statement of belief in someone (even if they are a cult leader), that I could imagine on mixtapes between young lovers.
On PL*NET F*TNESS, Pacing presents a vision of intimate relationships as a panacea for societal malaise and personal anxiety. When there is nothing you wanna do, Pacing is here with some suggestions.
Lillian Weber is a fake librarian in NYC. She writes about gender, music, and other inane thoughts on her Substack, all my selves aligned. You can follow her on Instagram @lillianmweber.
