by Shea Roney (@uglyhug_)
Is there such a thing as a perfect love song? With a theme so synonymous with music itself it’s hard to imagine the possibility there isn’t. Back in 2021 Chicago’s own Bnny, the project fronted by Jessica Viscius, released her debut record, Everything in which she personified the quantities of tragedy. Now returning with her sophomore album, One Million Love Songs, Viscius is now boldly taking on another one of the most complicated components of being human; love. Recorded in Asheville at Drop of Sun Studios with production help from Alex Farrar (Wednesday, Indigo De Souza) One Million Love Songs finds Bnny in confident forward motion as she learns to embrace everything that love throws at her.
As a collective, One Million Love Songs does feel brighter and lighter than past Bnny releases, that be it, capturing the most nostalgic feelings, rewarded conditions and romanticized scenes that love can offer. The standout track, “Good Stuff” holds a heavy satin synth that plays with the warmth of those pinnacle 80s post-punk/shoegaze songs (“Just Like Honey”). “I’m hanging on to the good stuff,” Viscius sings with the reflection of a heart that’s been broken one too many times while also building harmonies ridden of any of that debt. “Changes” hits the giddy bullet points, “New memories/New feelings/New hope and new reasons;” the sauntering ballad longs for fresh starts as Viscius sings, “so happy I could scream,” in which she does so articulately, “wahoooo.”
As all butterflies eventually fly away, there is tension in the raw and unadulterated pleas and false prophets that love can so easily become. “Sweet” is a dry, soft rocker that is laddled with scolding self deprivation, as Viscius sings, “I’m so sweet/don’t you wanna get to know me,” as a question loaded with sarcasm and self loathing. Songs like “Screaming, Dreaming” and “Something Blue” are ecstatic as they teeter between brash punk spirit and its melodic cathartic counterparts; the type of emotional entrapment that makes you want to rip your hair out, eager for any kind of solution.
Something that makes One Million Love Songs feel so charming and endless in Bnny’s delivery is allowing love be what it must; an unbounded, unfiltered hearsay that fills everyone's lives differently. Songs like “Nothing Lasts” and “Crazy, Baby” acknowledge love’s most flighty tendencies; a gutsy message that goes against the very sanctity of true love. “A million love songs/of our past/write one quick ‘cause/nothing lasts,” she sings with as much nihilism as genuine caution on the distorted, “Crazy, Baby”. Songs like “Missing” and “Rainbow" build out from neglect and carry the past as a continuous companion in Viscius’ life. “When I’m with you / I almost forget / that he’s missing,” is a gut wrenching line that ends the album’s opener, “Missing,” accompanied by an infatuated chord progression that flirts with its own confliction.
The question isn’t so much ‘what is the perfect love song?’, anymore, but rather, ‘can there ever be a perfect love song?’ Viscius’ growth as a musician and arranger since Everything is undeniable, weaving in and out of styles, dynamics and provocatives that create a vast and deeply introspective record. That being said, One Million Love Songs plays into that skilled variation to try to offer the most honest and deliberated answer; love can never be just one thing. It’s not black or white; friend or foe, one song, but a multitude of different facets, feelings, play-by-plays, dreams, conflicts, palm readings, butterflies, snort filled laughs, breaks, gut intuitions, pure joy and absolute fucking misery. Bnny’s new album not only demonstrates this in both tenacity and empathy, but makes clear, though there may never be one perfect way to describe love in its fullest, she sure got close.