The Second One’s Always Better - Mickey Nomimono
By Libby Driscoll
Uh oh, Mickey’s on the whiskey again - hold on to your seats…
The Second One’s Always Better - Mickey Nomimono
Now very much a household name in Sheffield, Nomimono releases his anticipated debut album, The Second One’s Always Better. Packaged in irony, the album title itself nods to themes of self-assuredness and self doubt - both of which are undeniably prevalent within the LP.
Most associate coming of age with your mid to late teens, but I feel over the past couple of decades, the younger generations have been hit with a second coming in their twenties. One much less romanticised, and with far more drugs, existential panic and sheer disdain for the environments we find ourselves in. TSOAB resonates with this idea entirely, slandering the forced 9-5 lifestyle and the knock-on effects this has on mental health and escapism.
Sprinkled with tongue-in-cheek singles DHL, Mr. Relatable, Hot and Cold and How Does it Taste, the existing fan favourites crop up between the newer, deeper depths of Nomimono.
A full kit and dominating synths crown Nomimono a nihilistic, narcissistic, half-sadistic optimist in Layabout whilst At The Washi In Disguise observes the mundanity of life and telling little white lies. Holding a certain nostalgia to post-teen/uni life, the distorted synth textures and tight drum pads reference the ‘DJ sets’ of house parties featuring ‘90s and 00s garage.
The narrative switches slightly from self-deprecation to social commentary, mocking the individualism of Gen Z DJs and the authenticity of their cargos in 21. Nomimono expresses the quickly muted optimism when a house party doesn't hit like it used to, and you find yourself tired of walking sideways and not knowing what the time is.
Mulch is a personal highlight of the album for me - the dragging, gruelling verse beneath Nomimonos gravelling rant about universal credit forms whilst being a trendsetter borders on the uncanny valley of ego. The two personalities of Nomimono battle it out in the track’s composition - the mysteriously dark, dreaded atmosphere easily doubles up as a slick backing track to an unapologetic, cool demeanour.
Plunging down into the despair of Drugs of the Doctor, the choral gates of heaven open the track before vivid, rippling synths contradict the narrative. The track mocks the attitude towards mental health I’m sure many of us have experienced from health professionals when seeking help. In a world where they can pop you on diazepam to have you skipping back to work on Monday, it really has become the disordered norm to wake-up, diazepam, coffee, repeat.
TSOAB feels like the sobering clarity of a 3am come-down in a stranger’s kitchen. The album unapologetically lays bare the reality of a creative tirelessly battling life under capitalism, trying to escape the grim reality, but now the escapism is just another shift to clock into. I mentioned earlier that the LP nods to both self-assuredness and self doubt which is something I love about Nomimono. If you’ve ever had the privilege to see a live show, you know the man is a rock star through and through, and you know he knows this too. However, behind the dance-heavy, industrial post-punk, the lyricism cuts deeper than the facade. The battle between self-assuredness and rattling panic is something that any decent creative must face, and when mixed with the mania of drink, drugs, depression and anxiety can create something heartbreakingly incredible.
TSOAB is a surprisingly personal debut from the egocentric layabout, which I truly believe will kickstart his career further afield from northern England. Shrouded in frustration, doubt and painful optimism packaged in a slick and addictive sound, the LP is an unapologetic, authentic extension of Nomimono.