Michael Cera Palin summon newfound spunk on We Could Be Brave

The first emo revival was dying down right as these upstarts arrived on Atlanta's overlooked DIY scene in 2015. After a pair of promising EPs, the trio took a premature hiatus, only to return during a global pandemic. But now, finally, a decade after they started, Michael Cera Palin are back, this time with their debut album. And while there is still some growing pains, it was well worth the wait. We Could Be Brave shows not only how far this band, but the entire genre, have come.

Michael Cera Palin haven't forgotten their roots in Midwest emo. We Could Be Brave opens with a familiar twinkle, but those wistful arpeggios are the closest this album comes to the night sky above the American Football house. Constantly touring has done more than just put some hairs on the band's chinny-chin-chin. As the metaphorical walls close in around lead singer Elliot Braban, "Feast or Famine" shifts full throttle into a riff that's scruffier than a new neckbeard.

While more rugged and adventurous, Michael Cera Palin underwent a slow, painstaking maturation process. Writing for We Could Be Brave started three years ago, back when original drummer Jon Buncic was still in the band. They recorded the album themselves in 2023, before Chad Miller took over behind the kit, leaving all of last year for mixing and mastering. Such careful deliberation can squeeze the lifeblood out of an album. Lead single "Wisteria" keeps its broken heart too close to the chest, blooming into pop-punk that's pretty paint-by-the-numbers.

But perhaps I'm the one who's overthinking. We Could Be Brave doesn't sound like a labor of love but friends who are busy jamming in the garage. Bassist Jon Williams happily carries the melody. The drums never stop scampering in the pocket, even tossing out the occasional flurry of double bass. Michael Cera Palin aren't sweating too much over what sticks, and as a result, pretty much everything does. "Despite" scrapes and crawls through rolling brain fog, but the band never lose sight of what excites a crowded Polish club on Tuesday nights. "Despite unraveling / I'm so tightly wound", Braban shouts atop a chorus that explodes like a water balloon fight.

But Michael Cera Palin's newfound songwriting courage isn't just for shits and giggles. "Crypto" yields nothing but sludgy disdain for morally bankrupt tech bros. The swarming dance-punk of "Murder Hornets Furnosa" stings pearl-clutching bureaucrats with the album's biggest zinger. "If you are what you eat / then I'm more man than you'll ever be". As an emo vocalist, Braban checks all the boxes. They scream not so much out of frustration but utter exhaustion, arriving at an epiphany with shrugged-off sighs. Heck, even the talk-singing is impassioned.

While admittedly poor and aching, it's Braban's pen that best bears the genre's signature. There's not a single throwaway line on We Could Be Brave. Each one is crammed with clever quips and knotty worldplay, which makes it harder to unpack the underlying meaning. Sometimes, I wish they'd just come out and hit me where it hurts. Broken into two distinct-yet-disjointed parts, "10:38 / Doe" pieces together the rush of regret and gratitude that lingers after you've watched someone die. "Held your hand from your bedside / Find comfort in surrounding you with the loves of your life".

In the end, We Could Be Brave stands as a test of Michael Cera Palin's endurance. The album continues to venture off in different directions, but the band aren't in need of steadying their stylistic footing. Instead, they're simply looking for a way to survive. By the album's second track, they've already reached their wit's end. "Always seem to find more fuel than drive".

2025 is three months old and our timelines are already filled with reasons to stay in bed. Call it what you want, but I don't think anything has spoken to this generation's collective burnout better than emo's fifth wave. For a band that was largely inactive while their peers were thriving, Michael Cera Palin hold a surprising amount of influence, even though their biggest song was a bitching cover of Sheryl Crow. After We Could Be Brave, that's no longer the case. It's far from perfect; the band have trouble navigating its turbulent middle passages. Still, just as they're ready to give up, the album's 12-minute title track finds a reason to keep going. "Would it be so off course / To live because you will it?" Braban yells as they charge into a gang-chanted coda that falls like confetti at the finish line.

The world might not be so beautiful right now, but in the brave and timely hands of Michael Cera Palin, emo has never been in a better place.