B-Side Guys

The contradiction lives in the title itself—seeking chemicals to feel less cynical while being painfully aware that chemicals might be the problem. Manic Wave navigates this pharmaceutical paradox with the kind of brutal honesty that makes “Less Cynical” feel like eavesdropping on someone’s therapy breakthrough in real time.

Atlanta’s indie-electronic scene has produced its share of introspective acts, but Manic Wave’s approach to mental health feels refreshingly unvarnished. The track opens with mundane details—crown apple and coke, coat checks, waiting for callbacks—before spiraling into the kind of pharmaceutical confession booth that Twenty-One Pilots pioneered but rarely executed with this level of specificity. When the narrator mentions “pills I need to take or I’m in trouble,” it’s delivered with matter-of-fact resignation rather than dramatic flair.

The electronic textures shimmer underneath traditional indie rock instrumentation, creating sonic layers that mirror the song’s emotional complexity. Drum machines pulse alongside live percussion, while synthesizers weave through guitar work that recalls Modest Mouse’s angular melodic sense. The production never feels cluttered despite juggling multiple genre influences—each element serves the song’s central tension between numbness and clarity.

Lyrically, the track mines dark humor from pharmaceutical culture without trivializing mental health struggles. The line “all my ex’s are on S.R.I.s” functions as both punchline and genuine observation about generational patterns. Manic Wave understands that recovery rarely follows clean narrative arcs, instead presenting therapy as messy work that yields incremental progress rather than sudden enlightenment.

The bridge section shifts into genuine hope without abandoning the song’s established cynicism. “It’s time for me to be happy” repeats like a mantra someone is still trying to believe, authentic in its tentative optimism. The repetition suggests affirmation exercises, the kind of cognitive behavioral techniques that feel awkward until they don’t.

By track’s end, the question remains unanswered—those chemicals that might cure cynicism never materialize. Instead, Manic Wave offers something more valuable: the recognition that asking the right questions might matter more than finding easy solutions.