PIMMER DELIVER AN EMOTIONAL GUT-PUNCH WITH LOUD, LOFI CHARM ON I WISH I COULD CARE
With I Wish I Could Care, Pimmer doesn’t just put out another indie-punk album—they deliver a raw, raucous, emotionally-charged ride that feels like it was made for late nights, loud speakers, and letting go. Packed with gritty guitars, punchy hooks, and lyrics that hit where it hurts, this record wears its heart on its sleeve while keeping its foot on the gas.
From nostalgia-drenched anthems to Springsteen-style slow burns, the album balances chaos and craft in a way that’s both deeply personal and totally explosive. Whether you’re moshing in your room or staring out the window wondering what went wrong, there’s a song here for every kind of heartbreak and high. Let’s dive in, track by track:
“Things We Did For Fun” launches I Wish I Could Care with a burst of kinetic energy and undeniable charm. It’s an opening track that doesn’t ease you in—it grabs you by the collar and throws you straight into the storm. The vibe leans heavy on indie rock grit with just the right amount of punk edge to keep things raw, restless, and alive. From the jump, the track is firing on all cylinders. Guitars blaze with a gritty urgency, the rhythm section pounds forward with reckless momentum, and the layered vocals—both emotionally charged and melodically sharp—cut through the noise with striking clarity. There’s a heartfelt, nostalgic chaos to it all, like racing through a city at night with no destination, just feelings. It’s the kind of song that doesn’t just open an album—it kicks the doors wide open and declares that I Wish I Could Care is going to be something worth sticking around for. If this is how the ride begins, we’re all in.
“Garage Band Glory” taps straight into the veins of nostalgia, and it hits hard. It instantly conjures up the kind of night you spent packed shoulder-to-shoulder in a sweaty garage with your hometown heroes—before the Spotify streams, before the merch tables—just raw, unfiltered music for the sake of playing. There’s something undeniably magnetic about the track’s energy. The guitars are punchy, the drums crash with youthful urgency, and the whole thing carries this unshakable undercurrent of warmth and memory. It’s got that rough-around-the-edges charm that feels personal, like you’re reliving a moment that only ever existed between you and your best friends. At times, the song drifts into melodic territory that surprisingly echoes the Goo Goo Dolls, blending grit with vulnerability in a way that’s both refreshing and emotionally grounding. It’s catchy without trying too hard, nostalgic without feeling stuck in the past—and it leaves you with that ache for one more chorus, one more song, one more night like the ones you used to live for. Honestly, our only complaint? It ends too soon. We could’ve lived in this one for a few more verses, a longer bridge, maybe an extended outro with just the vocals and a fading guitar line. “Garage Band Glory” is a reminder of why we fell in love with music in the first place—and we’ll be replaying it until the neighbors start complaining.
“The Doomsday Clock” lands at track three on I Wish I Could Care and also holds the title of lead single—and honestly, it’s easy to see why. From the moment it kicks in, the song commands your attention with a driving arrangement that’s both tightly wound and explosively energetic. It’s the kind of track that makes you want to shout the lyrics back at the stage with a fist in the air. Sonically, it's a total gut punch—in the best way possible. The guitars are crisp and urgent, the rhythm section barrels forward with reckless precision, and the vocals ride that line between angst and anthemic. There’s a rawness here that feels undeniably honest. Hailing from Boston, the band wears their roots proudly on their sleeves. You can hear that gritty, blue-collar punk spirit baked into every chord. There’s a punchy, melodic aggression that feels reminiscent of early Alkaline Trio, with just the right dose of darkness and hooks to make it addictive. And let’s be clear—that comparison is nothing but high praise. “The Doomsday Clock” isn’t just a great single—it’s a mission statement. Urgent, emotional, and meant to be played loud.
“Like A New Penny” slides in at track four and feels like a natural continuation of the momentum from the previous song—but with a noticeably more refined edge. There’s a sleekness to this one that gives it its own identity, even as it carries that same raw energy. The guitar work is a standout here—intricately layered and thoughtfully arranged, it weaves through the track with a kind of calculated chaos that demands attention. Every riff feels deliberate, every tone locked in just right. And the vocals? Straight-up addictive. There’s a cool confidence in the delivery that pairs perfectly with the track’s sharper production. It hits that sweet spot between grit and melody, and honestly, we could listen to a full album with just this vocal tone. It’s got us hitting replay and craving more.
“Aboard My Private Plane” changes the pace with a smoky, Springsteen-style vibe that hits different—and hits hard. It’s gritty, soulful, and full of swagger. The back-and-forth vocals are a standout, adding a conversational edge that pulls you right into the story. Drums are sharp and driving, while the bass gives the track a warm, enveloping groove that ties it all together. It’s a curveball for the album—but a damn good one. Well done, boys.
“The One” is another high-octane banger from the Beantown boys, charging in with guitars blazing and no intention of slowing down. The riffs are front and center—fast, fierce, and driving the track with a relentless energy that refuses to quit. Once again, those Alkaline Trio vibes creep in—dark melodic undertones with a punk bite, and we’re not mad about it. Lyrically, it’s a fiery anthem about being “the only”—a recurring theme that gives the track a bold, defiant edge. The chorus is infectious, practically made to be screamed in sweaty venues. That said, some of the lyrics get a little lost in the mix here—but honestly, the raw emotion still comes through loud and clear. All in all, “The One” hits hard, hits fast, and sticks with you. Another win for the tracklist.
“How Bout It” comes in hot as track seven, blending punchy indie rock with a gritty punk edge that feels like a full-blown rallying cry. It’s got that “get up and do something” energy—like a sonic slap to the face in the best way. The arrangement is tight and dynamic, with enough twists to keep it from ever feeling predictable. Right around the halfway mark, a piano line sneaks in and totally shifts the mood—adding an unexpected layer of emotion and depth that elevates the whole track. It’s moments like this that make the album shine. “How Bout It” isn’t just catchy—it’s purposeful, powerful, and built to stand out.
“Stevedores For Mars” aims to keep the momentum going, delivering another dose of high-energy emotion—but this one doesn’t quite land with the same impact. While it carries that same frenetic energy and sonic texture as earlier tracks, it starts to feel a bit repetitive in the context of the album. That said, there’s a slow section midway through that really shines—offering a much-needed breath and showcasing the band’s ability to shift dynamics with intention. It’s a reminder of their musicianship and range, even if the rest of the track treads familiar ground. It’s by no means a bad song—just one that might’ve hit harder as a standalone or B-side. Still, the execution is solid, and fans of the band’s core sound will likely still find something to love.
“The New Generation” storms in as the penultimate track on I Wish I Could Care, led by blaring drums that demand your full attention from the first second. This one’s a full-on percussion clinic—a showcase of just how powerful and dynamic great drumming can be. That’s not to say the rest of the band isn’t pulling their weight—far from it. The vocals are gritty and passionate, the guitars tear through the mix with urgency, and the bass holds it all down with tight, punchy low-end. But make no mistake—the drums are the driving force, setting a relentless pace that elevates the whole track. It’s energetic, intense, and an undeniable highlight for anyone who loves rhythm front and center.
The album closes out on a high note with “Cosmonauts and Ice Cream Men,” a track that has all the right ingredients for a fun, feel-good rock anthem—starting with a cowbell front and center, as all great closing tracks should. The song's title alone sparks curiosity (and a sudden craving for ice cream under the stars), and the music lives up to the whimsy. The guitars bring a twangy, almost country-like charm, adding a playful edge that sets it apart from the rest of the record. Vocally, there's a raspier, warmer tone here that feels comforting—like a worn-in denim jacket at the end of a long night out. It’s loose, catchy, and wrapped in just the right amount of weird—an unexpectedly perfect way to wrap up the ride. A solid closer to a well-crafted album, “Cosmonauts and Ice Cream Men” leaves you smiling and maybe even hitting repeat.
At the end of the day, I Wish I Could Care just hits. Pimmer didn’t set out to reinvent the wheel, but what they did do is pour everything they’ve got into a set of songs that feel honest, loud, and real. There’s grit, there’s heart, and there’s a whole lot of moments that’ll stick with you.
It’s the kind of album you throw on during a late-night drive or when you’re feeling too much and not enough at the same time. Imperfect in the best ways, it never tries too hard—and that’s what makes it work. If this is what Pimmer sounds like right now, we’re all in for whatever comes next.