Permanent Damage by Joesef | Album Review
Joesef's debut album pulls back the bandages covering the scars of heartbreak to let them breathe.
I had heard a bubbling of Joesef’s debut album Permanent Damage. The Scottish indie artist began his career through his bedroom productions. A chance encounter with his now manager Lyle Scougall set him on the trajectory to where he is today. His debut release dives deep into the scars left behind by his prior long-term relationship. He tells GQ that the songs on this album were an effort to wrap his head around the low place he was left in the aftermath:
“We were together for four years and it was an intense experience. My music is trying to make sense of it. It fucked me up a lot… I can listen to the album now, but some tracks I still struggle with.” — Joesef via GQ (2023)
Joesef begins the project with the title track “Permanent Damage.” This sets the tone for the album to come as the sultry strings and piano bring out a sense of drama. Both of these pair nicely with Joesef’s soulful vocals. We are set at the end of a particularly taxing relationship, “You should hear it/ The quiet sound of knowing there is nothing left to say/ All the feeling/ That takes me back to somewhere I don’t want to be again.” All of this leaves a dull ache surrounding the scars left behind by the fallout of their love. He does well to begin our journey with the sentiments of this piece.
The pangs of heartbreak ring louder on “It’s Been a Little Heavy Lately.” We switch gears into a more modern synth-pop soulful blend. The way the music gently swirls together in this muted color scene brings out his sense of loss. Joesef provided the following on Genius surrounding the song’s notion of falling for the wrong person:
“I wrote ‘It’s Been A Little Heavy Lately’ about how I tend to make bad decisions when I’m down, and to be more specific it was giving into the advances of someone I’d been with previously, while they were in a new relationship. I wanted the song to feel like a bad trip, there’s a lot of different textures; the tempos are higher, and the drums are slightly swung. It also features a sample from the film Totally Fucked Up by Gregg Araki: the stories he tells, and how he portrays them visually inspire me every day, and fit the context of the song so well, I had to write to him for the sample clearance and he said yes which was fucking mind-blowing to me, he’s a hero of mine.”
You can hear the longing he has over this man whose in a relationship with a woman. This psychedelic aura that envelopes Joesef adds to the delirium he’s in wanting his lover back regardless of the pain he causes his new partner.
We continue this slow-burning mellow pop vibe with “East End Coast.” The song blooms with silvery-like essence as the chorus comes in. Both the silken guitars and moody beat bring to mind being lost in thought as the lit cityscape passes your car window. Joesef provides some insight into the emotional state he was in surrounding this relationship:
“I’d moved to London and felt so isolated without my family and friends. I’d met this person and I was trying to capture the idea of this tempestuous relationship that was so up in the air and unpredictable, but at least we had each other. It felt like the world was ending around us, and I felt so disconnected from my hometown. The song is a homage to that relationship and this emotional, invisible tether that I have with my hometown. That’s my mum’s voice at the end of the recording, she sent me a voicemail after I’d called her up crying and she just said, ‘Remember that I love you and you can always come home.’”
Joesef paints a rather dejected existence between him and his partner. You get a vivid image of just how deep into their vices they are “Comfortably overdosed/ Kiss me as the casket’s closed/ You soak into my winter coat/ The summer’s never been this cold.” You get a real feeling of how lost and dangerous the two are together.
The emotional pull of longing only tightens on “Just Come Home with Me Tonight.” The prominent synth work provides of soft glow to the piece. Paired with the mellow guitar, it gives a real hypnotic sensation. He exudes the burning desire that still tears at him when he sees his ex-lover at a party, “Pieces of my soul/ Are burning in my throat/ He’s lighting up your phone/ You’re here, but you’re already gone.” His desperate yet hapless need to rekindle this flame brings out such sadness in this piece.
“Borderline” tones down the tempo a bit. Quite a bit of the instrumentation is sent to the background, which makes you feel like you’re being slowly dragged along as the choir of Joesef’s vocals pulls focus. I appreciate how this adds weight to the pain and trauma around his ex’s treatment of him. The history of this mentally abusive relationship still haunts his mind even as he enters another healthier one. He dives deeper into the scars this left behind in the annotations to the song on Genius:
“’Borderline’ was the last song that I wrote for the album. The situation in that song is that met somebody new and they were so unconditionally loving, like I’d never experienced before, and just didn’t know how to take it. I realised I’d been indefinitely affected by this relationship that had come before, this idea of permanent damage and being changed forever. It was like lightbulb moment of thinking, ‘Fucking hell, I’ve been so fucked up by this person that I cannot even handle anything that’s good for me.’”
“Didn’t Know How (to Love You)” has some of the most defiant hurt to it. This track fully takes me back to the funky soul sound of the late 70s. The bass gives us the groove while the vocals coat the piece in a velvety purple. His overall sense of apathy towards his actions, “But I won’t apologise ’Cause I’m not sorry/ Why should I be?/ I fucked your friend, but, honey, you know you left me/ You said I’m heartless/ I’m just trying to start shit/ You should’ve never trust a man who’s brokenhearted,” oozes with a caustic taste of bitterness. The history between him and his partner is the only thing keeping him in this relationship while he lashes out at his partner’s distance towards him. Sonically, his is one of my favorites.
“Apt 22” continues some of the milkier sounds that run through the earlier half of the record. The strings give the song some real luxurious textures that call back a little to disco-era soul music. Under the sorrow of Joesef’s broken heart, the sound runs like watercolor. He is completely lost in the memory of the love he once had, “Sometimes, I still wake up thinking you’re by my side/ It’s like how it was before/ Underneath the weight of everything, I’m so tired/ It’s harder at night ’cause I can still feel you by my side.” The gravity that the strings give to his emotions makes the song feel that much more lachrymose.
“Shower” has the most sensuality to its feeling of loss. While I like the sexuality he brings forward here, I think the pulsing alt-R&B/pop sound feels rather dull compared to the rest of the songs on this project. Joesef is haunted by the memory of the intimacy he once shared with his lover, “Both of us got in the shower/ You said that that was our thing/ Sitting down, soaked for an hour/ I’m underneath holding your weight/ I wish we could stay there forever/ Now I’m standing in here alone/ Trying my best to forget you/ Are you doing the same on your own?” It’s an interesting view of heartbreak that he decides to tap into. I think if you like some of the sultry sounds of Nick Jonas’s solo work you’ll like this track (it gives me similar vibes).
“Joe” sinks us deeper into the wells of emotional turmoil. We bring back the momentum as the drums carry us forward alongside the cottony textures of the guitars, synths, and Joesef’s vocals. Here, we focus more on internal self-hatred that has pushed him to the edge, “‘Cause this is not a ship that could pass in the night/ It’s a wreck and I’m drowning, been hеre all my life/ I was eighteen and scrеaming and feeling it all/ Now I’m up on the edge of a bridge and I know.” I do think the lighter tone of the music is at odds with the overall downtrodden emotional state that he is in.
“Blue Car” brings to mind the singer-songwriter/R&B sound that Justin Nozuka has cultivated. I love how the song has these hushed moments that force you to listen closely. The creamy mix of acoustic guitar and synths is a dream on the ear under this slightly crackly treatment. Joesef appears to be at some of his lowest points throughout this song, “You spill like soft wax on the carpet, I can’t get you out/ I pour myself into your arms outside the dealer’s house/ Keep whispering to me/ My nose started to bleed/ How many more nights will it take?” There’s a real depth to the pain that he’s pouring forth that makes him feel almost like a ghost drifting through this melancholic soundscape.
We bring back that hazy soul-pop on “Moment.” The beat easily gets you moving as the amorphous synths provide a kaleidoscope of color to the backdrop. I will say this song feels a little familiar to some of the others in the same vein on this record. Joesef returns to an old flame in hopes that the life they once had could continue like nothing had ever happened. Unfortunately, too much anguish had settled in for things to go back to the way they were: “You said/ It’s just out of habit that we fall back into old ways/ There’s no shame/ It’s too late/ The bitterness is killing us, it’s something we just can’t shake.” This leaves him wishing for just one last moment to cherish where things felt like they did in the beginning.
“Last Orders” takes us back to that retro-soul sound that works wonderfully with Joesef’s blue-eyed soul sound. This has a little bit of a late 60s/early 70s vibe to it. I really like the groove that the electric guitar gives to this track. There is quite the sting of resentment that rings through Joesef’s words. His disdain for his ex’s continued longing for him bites at you, “You’re saying right where you are is where you wanted to be/ ‘Last orders’ rings through the bar, but you’re still waiting on me/ Doesn’t matter where you go or who you end up going with/ I know you would risk it all the second that you saw me come in.” Through this comes a sense of empowerment in his newfound freedom from his ex.
We close the record with the silky vintage sound of “All Good.” The strings and piano give a warmth to the song. The effect placed both his vocals and the instrumentation bring a fuzzy quality like that of an old vinyl record playing on an antique stereo. In many ways, this raps up all the turmoil that surrounds the toxicity and anguish that precludes this moment. The chorus, “It’s all good/ I promise you, babe, it’s all good/ Even though nothing’s ever easy, I can promise you, baby,” seeks to give us solace even though we’re alone and wounded. It’s a nice way to heal after the many tumultuous moments on this project.
I was pleasantly surprised by the album. Joesef’s soft, soulful voice can convey the depths of hurt and angst surrounding his past experiences with toxic relationships. The backdrop of creamy indie-pop provides a good neutral palette to paint this story of emotional damage. I do think that some of the songs begin to tread some of the same ground after some time. Also, the upbeat nature of tracks like “Joe” and “Moment” feel at odds with the subject matter they are discussing. I am impressed with the candid nature that Joesef takes throughout the record. I hope that future projects grow his sound more with his songwriting. This is a solid debut. My overall thoughts on Permanent Damage:
Loved it: “It’s Been a Little Heavy Lately”, “East End Coast”, “Didn’t Know How (to Love You)”, “Apt 22”, “Blue Car”, “Last Orders” & “All Good”
Liked it: “Just Come Home with Me Tonight”, “Borderline”, “Joe”, “Moment”
Disliked it: “Shower”
My overall rating: 6.5 out of 10.
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