Lab Rat, the brainchild of Australian solo artist Dylan James, drops “Rolling Loud” onto our auditory plates, and it’s… a lot. Like finding a half-eaten burrito in a washing machine – unexpected, a little messy, and you’re not quite sure how you feel about it. It’s alt-rock grunge rap, the musical equivalent of a Frankenstein’s monster stitched together with ripped denim and existential angst.
The single slams into you with the subtlety of a dropped anvil. It thumps and howls. “Rolling Loud” is supposedly about celebrating life to the fullest, embracing the chaos. The lyrics are clear, Dylan has made no attempt to create an air of mystic, he is telling it to us straight.
But wait! There’s also a strong and darker theme here. This celebration comes across like someone trying to convince themselves they’re having fun at a party they secretly hate. It’s the “drunk leading the blind,” as the song perfectly puts it – a swirling vortex of self-destructive behavior, fueled by, well, who knows what? Probably whatever’s on special at the metaphorical liquor store of the soul.
It conjures, oddly, the feeling of watching a 19th-century factory worker stumble home after a 16-hour shift, only instead of coal dust, he’s covered in glitter and regret.
It seems we have some controlled and well executed confusion on our hands here.
The track makes no apology. Its purpose achieved? I don’t think so.
Musically, it’s the sonic representation of that feeling when you walk into a room and forget why you’re there. Except the room is on fire. And there’s a clown juggling chainsaws. A strangely familiar beat, not disimilar to a heart murmur.
So, is “Rolling Loud” a celebration or a cry for help? Perhaps, like Schrödinger’s cat, it’s both at the same time. Does life even make sense? Does this single? Ponder that while listening, repeat, optional.
