Pool Kids – Pool Kids // POOL | Split Review
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Skeletal Lightning
On the heels of the dizzying success of their 2022 self-titled release, Pool Kids’ newest project is a collaboration with…themselves. The Pool Kids // POOL split sees the Floridians playing off their own extremes, with three decidedly hardcore tracks under the alter ego “POOL,” which serve as foil to side one’s signature twinkly emo sounds. Has this ever been done before? Has a band issued a split with a different iteration of themselves as the second band? Amidst a music industry fraught with stale money grabs, THIS is the kind of fun, fresh thing we need here in the dismal, dreary Year of our Lord 2023.
The EP starts with the only truly new Pool Kids track, “No Stranger.” Maybe I just have Cocteau Twins on the brain, but the singing here seems like it’s shrouded just a layer or two more than it has been in the band’s past work, delivered in a dreamy haze by vocalist Christine Goodwyne. The song’s urgency builds to a shoegazey bridge, brought back down to earth by the final bass and guitar notes ping-ponging gently off each other. What captured my heart in this song is the pop urgency of the melodies—it’s a subtle but compelling departure from the meandering American-Football-esque constructions of their previous album. However, the sounds of emo and pop-punk roots persist in the layered instruments and Goodwyne’s lyrical phrasing. Is this my new favorite Pool Kids song? Feels crazy to say, but maybe!
The second track is an alternate, slowed-down version of “Talk Too Much,” one of Pool Kids’ 2022 bangers. This reimagined version capitalizes on deliberate softness, paring back the original’s chugging guitars and turning down the dial on the vocals. It’s not necessarily quiet, though; atmospheric keys wrap Goodwyne’s voice in droning layers. The drums in the last portion of the song take me straight to Death Cab For Cutie’s “Grapevine Fires,” perhaps suggesting a throughline of indie pop that tethers some of the band’s songwriting to other disparate influences.
The twinkly guitars make a brief comeback in the third track, a pseudo-acoustic version of the 2022 album single “Arm’s Length.” Andy Anaya’s electric guitar pops in with riffs on the first couple of verses, reminding us who we’re listening to (Pool Kids), and then cedes to a melee of acoustic guitars, sparse drum machines, and even an accordion (I think??!?!). The restrained quality of Goodwyne’s voice gives the song’s lyrics a new dimension: the minimum wage complaint of verse two sounds more despairing than frustrated, for instance. And, of course, the relatable first verse—
I'm in a group chat
With twenty-one goddamn people
I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not
My phone crashes thirty-seven times a day
Where these lyrics once came across as tongue-in-cheek, it’s astonishing how goddamn lonely they suddenly sound when cast in a soft, twilight glow at this new tempo. It’s a gently haunting end to the Pool Kids side of the split.
Then, the twinkles fade, and the mosh pit opens. Yes, it’s a little bit of whiplash, but what did you want, the same old predictable EP that’s half singles you’ve already heard? Get off your ass and RAGE! (This pep talk is as much for myself as it is for the reader, as I am old and somewhat sleepy.)
Without warning, the first POOL track begins with crashing hardcore guitars that lead into a beautifully thrash-worthy breakdown, complete with brutal shrieks and pounding double bass drums–the whole nine yards. At only a minute and 19 seconds, “Cleansing” is a brief and brutal whirlwind, and the funny thing is that it absolutely makes sense in the context of Pool Kids’ technical precision. Guitars? Check. Drums? Check. See, not so different from a Pool Kids song!
For a bit of a history lesson, the mission statement for POOL was first laid out in an emojipasta April Fools tweet back in 2019:
The band put a corresponding two-song single on Bandcamp and even a batch of 7” flexi discs, with the proceeds going to marine research on red tide. Hilariously, Paramore’s Hayley Williams happened to shout out Pool Kids—a career-boosting milestone—that same day, meaning many new fans’ confusing first encounter with Pool Kids was actually the April Fools’ tweet. The band cleared the air the next day with a Twitter thread and promised more POOL shenanigans in the future since it was clearly such a hit.
Making good on their April 1 promise to wreak annihilation, the fiery “Inside A Wall” opens with a breakneck tempo, only to slow down to a heavy chug halfway through. Again, POOL keep it short, with the song clocking in at a slim 1:28. It’s absolutely insane how deftly these guys are picking up an entirely different genre for a couple of songs.
The final track, “Death Sentence,” feels like the guttural icing on the cake of POOL’s side of the split. Multiple tempo changes wrangle the song into three acts, a quick, yet face-melting saga. Fuck, this would be fun live, wouldn’t it?
When Pool Kids’ self-titled album knocked it out of the park last year, their meteoric success had a lot of people—including the band themselves—curious about what was next. How would they manage to keep such a trademark twinkly emo sound fresh? Philosophically, the answer lies within this split. Chop up the formula: subtly, gracefully, wildly, imaginatively.
In a recent interview, guitarist Andy Anaya beamed confidence at what lay in store in the near future: “We’re just really excited about what’s coming up for us.” The conversation progressed to what the next step looks like: “‘Now, we just want to create something that endures,’ says Andy, with Christine adding, ‘I guess we’re shooting for longevity.’”
I can’t see into the future, so I can’t speak to Pool Kids’ longevity yet. But if we’re talking industry impact, if we’re talking ingenuity, if we’re talking icon behavior (three things that lend themselves to longevity), this split reaffirms that Pool Kids are knocking it out of the park.
Katie Wojciechowski is a music writer and karaoke superstar in Austin, Texas. She is from there, but between 2010 and now, also lived in Lubbock, TX, Portland, OR, and a camper. Her life is a movie in which her bearded dragon Pancake is the star. You can check out her Substack here. She’s writing a book about growing up alongside her favorite band, Paramore.
