#ChartsandGraphsnewsingle

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Charts and Graphs Impresses With "Assume The Position" There’s something delightfully awkward about an album that both scolds you and invites you to dance at the same time, like a stoic librarian suddenly asking you to do the moonwalk across a dusty, authoritarian reading room. That’s precisely where Charts and Graphs’ new release, “Assume the Position”, sets up camp — somewhere between an impromptu interrogation and a sweaty basement party where someone’s uncle just showed off his best robot dance moves. And yet, despite the chaos and provocations, it all makes sense in a way that feels more lived-in than rehearsed, like they’re making complex statements but also want you to shimmy while receiving them. https://open.spotify.com/album/30BuLQCWq8YmYJtr8yfvSQ?si=Lc0JtwewS6K7IyRBRXhcZQ Now, if you’ve heard Charts and Graphs before, maybe you're expecting a kitchen sink of angular guitars and jagged rhythms — the soundtrack for pacing anxiously in a parking lot while you're avoiding a call from your boss. Don’t worry. That feeling is still there. But with “Assume the Position”, things have subtly shifted. Dan, Ross, and Gary channel their usual post-punk ethos but crank up the synths, like Devo’s less-obnoxious cousin hanging out at a Bonfire Night after hearing some slightly eerie Kraftwerk tracks. The result is a sound that’s jagged but also smoother and, with Dan's vocals taking on a more melodic quality, oddly melancholy at times — as if the listener were starting to figure out something profound, only to get distracted by the beat. It all begins with "Memo," a song that sounds as though the frontline of a protest march is suddenly handed a synthesizer. With its critique of modern power systems, digital soullessness, and the infantilizing haze of 21st-century surveillance tech, it somehow feels both deeply rebellious and self-reflective—two ideas that often swim together but rarely manage to hold hands. The song asks more questions than it answers, but isn’t that usually the direction rebellion points toward? It’s simultaneously 1980 and 2080, a sonic anti-anthem for people who've got 42 browser tabs open. [caption id="attachment_57906" align="alignnone" width="825"] Charts and Graphs Impresses With "Assume The Position"[/caption] Oddly enough, "Janeen" steps in like a drunken confession from someone who swears they meant to send a text but never quite finished typing it. There's a longing, sure, but also a strange dissonance in the vocals — almost as though the fixation on specific names ("Janine," "Jenny") is really just a messy metaphor for being overwhelmed by too many choices. The repetition hypnotizes, dragging the listener down into a well of indecision — a spot where yearning meets confusion. It’s half-love letter, half-cry for help set to a click. Then things really heat up with "Pressure Pressure." Cue the impending doom. Ross's bassline hovers, like a storm cloud ready to burst over the most existential office meeting you’ve ever had. There's an urgency to every word, every push from Gary's drums. Pressure doesn’t just pull here — it slams you into furniture, then politely offers tissues afterward. The repetition, the dry energy, it all mounts up into this claustrophobic sigh that makes you question every deadline you’ve ever been given. And maybe, just maybe, that tension in your throat isn't just from the song. [caption id="attachment_57905" align="alignnone" width="799"] Charts and Graphs Impresses With "Assume The Position"[/caption] But it’s not all self-reflective crisis management set to jerky dance grooves. "Physical Specimen" exists in its own cynical, neon-lit plane, as if it’s been spray-painted on the side of a Maserati parked in the backlot of a dilapidated club. There’s a sneering quality here, a critique of materialism that’s less hippie-chiding, more torch-lit parkour escape from a shopping mall. It’s a rebellion against everything shiny, pitched at a frequency that feels half punk-rock, half backhanded compliment to consumerist culture.

And then there’s the quiet rebellion in "Who Watches the Watchmen." It has all the restless, uncertain fidget of someone planning their escape but unwilling to let go of whatever keeps them tethered. There’s frustration here, a boiling, frothing frustration at authority, circumstance—almost as if Dan's vocals are a gut-wrenching spiral of indecision. You can hear the tension pulling at his throat, but it’s Gary's drums that punctuate the overwhelming chaos of "talking overload" — the feeling we all get in the presence of too many leaders and not enough sense. The song ends where it began, stuck between an intent to flee and the resignation of staying put: the Purgatory of Discontent. [caption id="attachment_57904" align="alignnone" width="786"] Charts and Graphs Impresses With "Assume The Position"[/caption] By the end, “Assume the Position” leaves you stranded in the middle of a dance floor, drenched in cynicism and accidentally dancing with your head full of societal critiques. The beauty of this album is that Charts and Graphs don't shove revelation down your throat. Instead, they hand it to you wrapped in a glitchy bassline and tell you, "Here, sort this out." Armed with Dan’s voice zigzagging between accusatory and defeated, Ross’s basslines acting like snarky side notes, and Gary’s percussive outbursts reinforcing it all, it’s hard to leave the album's tension behind even when the last beat drops. Follow Charts and Graphs on Instagram.