Song of the Week: ‘No Hope Kids’

Every Wednesday we publish a Song of the Week in the Morning Report to spice up your week with some local tunes.

When I turned 18, San Diego was in the midst of a blogosphere-induced return to musical relevancy. Buzzy, often DIY and lo-fi bands like Crocodiles, The Soft Pack and Delta Spirit were prompting the Rolling Stone to declare that our hamlet, better known for palm trees and fish tacos than for house shows and power chords, had become a “source of seedy, dangerous noise.”  

As a young musician who wanted nothing more than to make music that could be classified as seedy, dangerous noise, it felt like an era of opportunity. A dirtbag musical renaissance that hearkened back to the much hyped “It’s Gonna Blow!!!” period a decade earlier, only this time the GarageBand-produced music sounded even sloppier and more shoddily recorded. Even that aspect felt like a localized mirror of punk’s emergence and reliance on three-chord song structures as a response to the shredderdom of earlier musical generations.  

Though there were certainly bands that captured my imagination more (see the still criminally underappreciated The Sess) few projects captured my teenage angst and aimlessness quite as much as Wavves, the brainchild of songwriter Nathan Williams. Wavves’ music, but especially its earlier releases, fully encapsulated the sort of bitter, half-stoned nihilism that pervaded the late-aughts San Diego scene I was beginning to dive into. The unpredictable antics of his early years, which included getting in a fight with his drummer on stage with a belly full of assorted substances, for me, only added to his cred. 

Though Williams’ project has since evolved and matured, those early releases still hold a special place in my heart. 

Wavves, “No Hope Kids”: Though much of Wavves’ early output has to do with being young and hopeless, there are perhaps no songs as direct as “No Hope Kids.” The track is a wash of sunburnt guitar, blown-out vocals and a no-frills drum line, that felt almost like an anthem for dirtbag kids like me. It was a soundtrack to a summer of house shows, alleyway cigarettes and light beer. 

Like with most of Williams’ music, the lyrics aren’t particularly deep or poetic, but in exclusively one and two-syllable words, they expressed the essence of a youth that felt both empty and like it was slipping away. All these years later, it feels silly to admit how much songs like these meant to me. But then I put on a pair of headphones, crank up the volume and stop caring. 

Like what you hear? Check out Wavves at Soma on Saturday, February 17. 

Do you have a “Song of the Week” suggestion? Shoot us an email and a sentence or two about why you’ve been bumping this song lately. Friendly reminder: All songs should be by local artists!