By: Kayleigh Drake 

In May of this year, my band had the absolute pleasure of opening for the immensely talented Birmingham musician Joshua Holt, aka Brotha Josh, at our inimitable local space-themed venue Saturn. It was such a fun night for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which being the fact that Josh and his band covered the quintessential millennial anthem “Electric Feel” by MGMT, which got every 30-something in the room out of their orange high-top seats and on their feet dancing along. 

So I was very excited to learn that Brotha Josh just dropped a brand new full-length album. And, circling back to the millennial-ness of it all, this record is aptly titled The Millennial Malaise. Which is a.) an absolute slay of an album name and b.) a phrase that I think everyone in the aforementioned 30-something age bracket can relate to. 

We millennials are an interesting bunch. Most of us look remarkably good for our age, and we were kids during the 90s, which was arguably one of the best times in history to be a kid. On the flip side, however, we’ve been through some shit collectively. We sat in class watching planes fly into buildings on 9/11. We’ve been the brunt of every joke and blamed for everything under the sun by our generational predecessors and successors. We graduated high school straight into a recession. We signed our lives away via exorbitant student loans, something we were told we “had” to do, only to enter a saturated job market with minimal career opportunities. We spent a large chunk of our prime years navigating a pandemic. And perhaps most guttingly of all, we’ve been priced out of formative adult experiences like buying houses and raising families, to the point where most of us don’t even know what we should be doing at this point in our lives. 

“The Millennial Malaise” takes all of that and spins it into 10 catchy, clever and poignant tracks that perfectly describe what it’s like to be a millennial navigating life during this era of… whatever this is. 

In a recent “Talk Of Alabama” segment on ABC 33/40, Josh gave us some background on the album. 

“I turned 30 last year and I wanted to write songs about, y’know, turning my age and being a millennial,” Josh says of The Millennial Malaise. “I talked to a lot of people [for this album]. There’s a song where I interview some Birmingham locals, and a lot of the folks I know have a lot of angst and anxiety about turning 30, but also a lot of positives about it as well.” 

And as a fellow 30-something who was born smack-dab in the middle of the millennial generation, I couldn’t agree more. Turning 30 is like this huge milestone in a young adult’s life that’s equal parts exciting, daunting and overwhelming. And this album dives right into that. 

Originally hailing from New Orleans, Louisiana, Josh started making music officially in 2017 before moving to Birmingham in 2020. Growing up, his parents played a lot of jazz in their home, as well as lots of pop music like Hall and Oates and The Police. And listening to this album, you can absolutely hear those influences. 

“Any of the music I make is gonna be somewhat funky and groovy,” Josh says. “I’m always trying to make music that makes people move.” 

In the Talk of Alabama segment, Josh describes The Millennial Malaise as a “musical gumbo” of sorts, incorporating various genres together. And that absolutely tracks. The music itself is a delightful fusion of indie rock, pop and soul with a generous drizzle of funk, disco and even some hip-hop. Josh serenades the songs with his velvety-smooth tenor vocals that remind me a lot of Abel Tesfaye. It’s excellent fall listening, punctuated by stop-you-in-your-tracks lyrics that practically everyone under 40 can relate to. 

We start out with “Right Now,” a chill, mid tempo opener that sets the stage perfectly for what’s in store on the album. It starts out with a very YOLO-esque pep talk of, “I got one life tonight. Baby, shots on me, let’s do it right.” As if to say, the world is crazy, but we’re millennials and we know how to make the best of a bad situation so fuck it, let’s party. And then later on in the song, one line in particular struck me like a train: “Trapped all day, stuck in the matrix, swallowing your pills so you just don’t have to take it.” A metaphor for life in general as a card carrying member of Generation Y. 

Next up we have “Cheat Codes,” which is one of the catchiest songs on the whole album. It’s a funky, disco-y pop number that features this infectious guitar lick that floats throughout the intro and interludes. It’ll be stuck in your head for sure. 

Title track “The Millennial Malaise” is a voice memo-like song consisting of an instrumental backdrop with bits of audio recordings from Josh asking his friends the question: How is it to be a millennial? And the resulting dialogue is an absolute goldmine. Just a few of the many highlights: 

• “I’m not gonna lie, it kinda sucks, bro.” 
• “Just despair… all the time. I feel like that sums it up.”
• “People my age, like MY AGE my age, we’re locked in. We right here. The world done been ‘bout to end seven times since we’ve been on it.” 
• “It’s like showing up late to the party, and all the good shit happened already at the party, and now we’re being blamed for the the cops showing up.” 

And perhaps the most punch-you-in-the-gut part is Josh’s closing line of the song: “Honestly my biggest fear is that none of this matters. Like, I have a constant thought that, if I die tomorrow, like would it matter? Obviously my family, my friends, they’d care obviously but what was the point of it all, right? I just made a bunch of songs, made a bunch of stuff, but really who’s listening? What if all that’s really left at the end of all this shit is just the sound?” 

And speaking of “The Sound,” that’s exactly the name of track four, an extremely groovy song that incorporates a vague interpolation of the “stop hey what’s that sound” part of “For What It’s Worth” by Buffalo Springfield. Sound, sound, all around. 

Next up, “Dancing Alone” shares a somewhat similar title to yet another millennial anthem: Dancing On My Own by the Swedish pop queen Robyn. But musically, that’s where the similarities end. This is a downtempo, jazz-infused bop that makes me want to hang out in a dingy dive bar sipping a whiskey drink and inhaling the aroma of a nearby Marlboro. (Which, presumably, is exactly what Josh is doing on the album cover.) That’s followed by “Standing Up Falling Down,” another groovy little track with an incredibly singalong-worthy chorus. 

“The Millennial Interlude” gets into some hip hop/RnB territory. It starts with a melodic refrain of, “Feeling out of place in this world, nothing can hold my body down.” But Josh soon eschews the melodic vox for a more spoken-word rap situation featuring fellow Birmingham hip-hop musician Mel. Crozby. My personal favorite line: “Our lives have been a wreck. And we just vibing out on Al Gore’s internet.” 

Next up is “Blown Away,” a catchy, anthemic rock song that has some heavy My Morning Jacket vibes. Then comes “The Quiet,” another soul-drenched rocker that has Josh delivering some of his most impressive vocals on the entire album: “I sit alone, I sit alone nowww.” And after that, we close things out with “Coming Back,” which incorporates a key change, aka one of my favorite musical elements. 

Overall The Millennial Malaise is an extremely solid album with incredible songwriting that actually talks about real shit. I wouldn’t say it’s groundbreaking stuff musically, but who says music has to smash through sonic molds to be great? The lyrics and the overall hashtag-relatable sentiment of this record is where it really shines. And with it being Halloween season, if you’re looking for something to listen to that’s a different kind of spooky, I can’t recommend this enough. 

Stream it on Bandcamp here, and swing by Seasick Records to grab a copy of it on vinyl. And be sure to catch Brotha Josh at Saturn on Nov. 15 for the official album release show!