‘Super Pedestrian’ Review: Walk Don’t Run!

NYC-born and Nashville-based indie-rocker Annie DiRusso released her debut-album “Super Pedestrian” last Friday. Full of whimsy, longing, vulnerability, and just enough self-awareness, her lyrics are deeply personal yet resonate with the struggle between being in control and surrendering to life. The album is an evolution of her usual guitar-heavy rock instrumentals, experimenting with incorporating different genres while still maintaining a cohesive sound across the record. DiRusso’s confidence shines throughout the project, and it’s evident the album has been a product of her growth personally and as an artist.

Set in a rest-stop in Colorado, the compelling opening track “Ovid” sets the stage for “Super Pedestrian,” thematically and sonically. The drums that come in at the end of the first line bring a spark of energy to the verse before softening for the first chorus. As DiRusso sings, “Always looking for something to change my life / Never looking for something to change my mind,” the guitars are foregrounded, building a tension that mirrors the difficulty of dealing with change in the lyrics. The track’s outro layers DiRusso’s wailing vocals on top of big, pop-punk drum beats, leaving the craving for a resolution to be satisfied elsewhere.

“Back In Town” takes a turn into pop, featuring a pretty simple chorus and catchy melody. The verses are where DiRusso’s songwriting shines, detailing the hazards of doing so much for someone who does so little for you. From changing flights to loaning out books that won’t even be read, she couples personal details with the universality of longing to tell the story of unhealthy obsession.

In “Leo,” a quick, two-minute song about her older brother, DiRusso successfully experiments with production elements to create a light, fun track full of energy. It’s an essential breath of fresh air before some of the more emotionally charged songs that follow. From her layered background vocals and screeching guitar instrumentals to the wobbly synths and snippets of what sounds like a home-movie recording, coupled with the repeating chorus of “My brother’s gonna be alright,” “Leo” is playful and full of texture.

DiRusso returns with a pop-punk, angry edge in “Hungry,” a standout from the album as a whole. Using the metaphor of a bear attack to discuss a past abusive relationship, she highlights the damage done through lyrics like “I watched you flash your teeth / When a bear gets hungry / Doesn’t care who it eats” in the chorus, and “Bite into me / You cry when I bleed” in the second verse. The rewind at the start contextualizes the song as a reliving of the past, yet as the track progresses the electric guitar riffs and driving, hearty drums grow in volume, illustrating ongoing growth. The incomplete outro, “Just knowing what you did / It makes me not want kids / It makes me,” is a small but significant detail beautifully emphasizing the dynamic, continuous nature of healing from the pain of the past.

“I Am The Deer” explores the paralyzing nature of self-sabotage, knowing you’re actively hurting yourself yet not doing anything to stop it. With grunge-y instrumentals and lyrics situated in a sticky, Southern, summer car crash with the sun setting in the background, the song is a gritty embodiment of the onerous yet necessary task of looking inward in order to move forward. “Wearing Pants Again,” featuring Ruston Kelly, is a softer, folk-leaning approach to the same self-destructive tendencies, proving DiRusso’s vocals can hold their own without booming drums and powerful riffs.

“Derek Jeter” is another breather where DiRusso has fun and experiments. Featuring her father’s commentary on the former New York Yankees player, discordant chants of “Derek Jeter,” heavy drums, and clapping in the background, the track is loud and chaotic, yet sonically a great fit for the album.

DiRusso’s stellar songwriting makes a comeback in “Good Ass Movie,” where she’s not afraid to have some bite to her lyrics, matching the gasp-like bark that follows the end of her second verse. She berates her ex, singing “One day you’ll write a good ass movie / Cause you tell good ass stories / When you’re lying to me” in the chorus, and “Well, you know what I think’s cheap? / Saying you’re a writer and not writing anything” in the second verse. The spoken-word bridge evokes nostalgia by name-dropping 2000s comedies and effectively builds to DiRusso’s admittance that “I just love a good ass movie” with the gradual inclusion of crashing cymbals and her background vocals.

“It’s Good To Be Hot In The Summer” is the biggest departure from the album’s sound, with the first two verses featuring only DiRusso’s soft vocals and the slow strumming of a guitar. She resolves to succumb to unpredictability, or at least try to, as she sings “I’ll just let it be what it is.” The elongated notes in the bridge build up a sense of catharsis and the wave finally crashes over as DiRusso sings “No, I can’t run away this time” before the instrumentals drop out completely for the final lines of the outro. “It’s Good To Be Hot In The Summer” provides a realistic resolution to the struggles DiRusso explores, rounding out the album nicely though perhaps on a more melancholy note than expected.

Though “Super Pedestrian” is her first full-length album, DiRusso knows her perspective and owns it. Her ventures into pop, punk, and folk add depth while conserving the core of her sound as an artist, making for an engaging, cohesive record and rousing a curiosity for where DiRusso will walk next.

—Staff writer Anna Moiseieva can be reached at anna.moiseieva@thecrimson.com.