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You Won't

Beat of the Bay
Beat of the Bay
By Andrew R. Chow, Crimson Staff Writer

The opening song of a concert set is a statement. It sets the tone for the rest of the night and often serves to fire up the audience and make them excited they came. At the Boston Calling music festival in September, for example, Vampire Weekend started off with the stomper "Diane Young," and Kendrick Lamar busted right into his verse on the hip-hop anthem "Fuckin’ Problems." The two were bold, unexpected choices that threw the crowd into a frenzy.

You Won’t, on the other hand, waltzed onstage and promptly launched into a rather forlorn rendition of the antiquated Massachusetts state anthem. The crowd, taken aback, first laughed, then listened attentively. In front of a crowd anxious for DJs and rappers, the Boston folk duo didn’t relinquished this attention for the rest of the set.

It’s pretty clear that You Won’t do not do things like other bands. Most bands have several musicians who each stick to one instrument; You Won’t are a duo, and one of the members plays seven or eight instruments alone. These traits go beyond gimmickry, though; they’re showmen who write textured pop with influences spanning across American history.

At the very heart of You Won’t is a bromance that has been developing for years. Josh Arnoudse and Raky Sastri went to the same high school in the suburbs of Boston, and both dabbled in several different art forms. The two met while doing theater together; after high school, they switched mediums to film—"we made bizarre, experimental narrative films," Arnoudse remembers—before moving finally to music.

The duo’s theatrical background is obvious at their Boston Calling set. Arnoudse, the frontman, howls into the microphone and engages gleefully with the crowd. Sastri, the multi-instrumentalist, glides around the stage, wielding his many instruments like a series of props. It’s lively and personal, and much more than the empty showmanship displayed by one or two of the acts that would perform later that day.

Sastri plays drums, bass, harmonica, harmonium, melodica, synthesizer, and that’s just the beginning. For the band’s upcoming full-length album, he’s been recording on hammer dulcimer and the singing saw. "Every now and then I’m like, ‘Raky, get that thing out of the closet hat we haven’t used in three years! I have an idea!’" Arnoudse says. The various instruments challenge the pair to expand their songwriting tendencies and push their sound.

The band’s experimentation goes beyond instrumentation: You Won’t pulls influences from a wide range of music sources spanning centuries. "We find recordings of these random people from the Appalachians, singing in their kitchen," Arnoudse tells me earnestly. "There’s one recording that’s all sea shanties. And Raky got really into shape note singing—this dark form of religious group singing that was born in the 19th century."

There are a lot of bands nowadays hitching a ride with an Americana revivalist movement that’s heading right down the mainstream: men and women in felt vests and farmer’s hats, playing banjos, singing huge harmonies. You Won’t is not one of those bands. "That’s a movement we don’t identify with," Arnoudse says decisively. "I always feel weird when people call us a folk band—we’re a little poppier and weirder."

It’s a strikingly accurate description. To get the band’s basic sound, start with the folk-pop on the radio nowadays, strip back the pretense, and add narrative and humor. "Three-Car Garage," the first song on the band’s first album, "Skeptic Goodbye," is at first glance a three-chord ditty built on happy guitar strumming. Take a closer listen, though, and it’s an answer to the Clash’s "Lost in the Supermarket"—a protest of the false suburban ideal of the "three-car garage and swimming pool." It’s vintage protest music: blatantly anti-commercial, poetic, catchy, and deliberate without being preachy.

There’s a clear modern pop influence on the song, and Arnoudse admits to listening to the Top 40 for the hooks. But no matter how simple the songs are, Arnoudse’s lyrics always carry weight. "Sometimes it’s great to have a silly song, but it’s pretty impossible for me to write a throwaway song lyric," he admits. "I’ve tried!"

So while the other bands at Boston Calling provoked sweat, screaming, and dancing, You Won’t was perfectly happy to leave a memorable impression on the concertgoers that showed up early. They’ll be playing at TT the Bears on November 1—go see them if you want to see a band that doesn’t play by the rules.

—Staff writer Andrew R. Chow can be reached at Andrew.chow@thecrimson.

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