With, If You Can’t Be Right, Be Loud., Mickelson delivers an electrifying, sharp-tongued, and deeply resonant collection of songs that slice through the chaos of modern life with wit, heart, and a post-punk snarl. Across ten albums, the acclaimed singer-songwriter and producer has fine-tuned his ability to weave together the rugged storytelling of Americana with the frenetic urgency of post-punk, and this latest effort is nothing short of a masterclass in balance—between humor and heartbreak, chaos and clarity, melody and mayhem.
The album’s title track, Amplify, sets the tone immediately, with jagged guitar riffs and a rhythm section that pulses with a sense of controlled anarchy. “I wrote the song two years ago about the polarizing division in the U.S.,” Mickelson explains. “At the time, I could never have imagined we’d still be here, with Trump re-emerging as a political force.” There’s a palpable frustration in his voice, but rather than wallowing in despair, Mickelson wields his pen like a scalpel, dissecting the absurdities of the modern political landscape with razor-sharp lyricism.
Glowstick takes a more intimate turn, exploring the weight of depression with unflinching honesty. The song’s slow build and haunting harmonies create an atmospheric depth that lingers long after the final note fades. Likewise, Two Flat Tires shifts the focus to addiction, with a raw and unvarnished perspective that’s both empathetic and brutally real.
But it’s not all doom and gloom. Mickelson’s knack for infusing humour into his songwriting shines on Small Town Scandal, a wry, rollicking tale of neighbourhood drama that plays out like a Coen Brothers film in song form. Blue Is The Warmest Color delivers tongue-in-cheek commentary on privilege, laced witha sly, sardonic wit that recalls the best of Elvis Costello.
A standout moment on the album comes in the form of two collaborations with XTC’s legendary bassist, Colin Moulding. Only Grey Matter Boiling In My Head and Blue Is The Warmest Color both benefit from Moulding’s signature melodic sensibilities, adding a layer of complexity that elevates the album’s already rich sonic palette. “It was an honour to work with Colin,” Mickelson says. “His contributions added a whole new depth to the music.”
Sonically, If You Can’t Be Right, Be Loud. is a testament to Mickelson’s DIY ethos. Entirely self-produced, engineered, and largely performed by the man himself, the album feels both expansive and intimate, a reflection of an artist in complete command of his craft. The influences are apparent—hints of Bowie’s chameleon-like adaptability, The Plimsouls’ rhythmic agility, and Steve Earle’s storytelling prowess—but Mickelson distils them into something entirely his own.
With this album, Mickelson solidifies his place as one of the most compelling voices in modern music, adept at blending pointed social commentary with deeply personal songwriting. If you’re looking for an album that challenges, entertains, and ultimately resonates long after the last track ends, If You Can’t Be Right, Be Loud., is essential listening.
