Sunny War, born Sydney Lyndella Ward, defies genre in her latest album Armageddon in a Summer Dress. The mixture of genres, such as punk, folk, and pop, makes the album feel like a rich experience where you get to taste different things in one place. The Nashville singer-songwriter brings with her a five-piece band, but you don’t feel distracted by this. It’s like listening to one unified sound that is being done by one person. 

The album begins suddenly as if it steals your breath away. One Way Train, the first song, starts immediately with no introductory music to prepare you for the lyrics. You find yourself diving deep into the world that is Armageddon in a Summer Dress. Just like War defies genre, she also defies logic in the first song. Despite the heaviness of the lyrics, which explore the current status we find ourselves in where the world is filled with fascists and not enough money to survive, you find yourself swaying to the upbeat music. It feels like a club song in the best way possible. It feels like a defying song. Something you will shout as you march against everything wrong with our world. 

Again, War continues defying logic as the next song is the same when it comes to how the music contradicts the heaviness of the lyrics. Bad Times makes you stare at the fact that poverty is beginning to prevail. You face the truth of “I’ve got no money, so I’ve got no power.” And just like you might feel close to the song’s lyrics, you find yourself wanting to say loudly “Bad times, stay away.” How many times does one find themselves wishing for bad times to stay away? Probably a lot more than the ones said by War, but they’ll do. 

War finally takes some kind of mercy on you in Rise, which feels like a lullaby you wish someone would sing for you at the end of a bad day. But War’s pessimism, which is understandable in our times, still seeps into the song in a way when she sings “Bad days go and they come / But the good do too, my friend.” We still have to rise because what do we have left if we give up? The sun keeps rising, and War reminds you that you, too, can be like the sun. 

A different road appears in front of you as you listen to Ghosts. It’s a road filled with eerie music and longing for someone who is long gone. The song becomes more meaningful when you realize that War wrote it after having hallucinations in her late father’s 100-year-old house because of a gas leak, but the lyrics make you feel like she truly saw ghosts. The music and the electric guitar at the end carry you to the end of the song. For a minute, if you close your eyes, you can believe in ghosts too.

The highlight of the album, to me at least, is Walking Contradiction ft. Steve Ignorant of Crass. It is a lyrical masterclass where you can’t find anything to judge. War and Ignorant’s combined voices can start a revolution if you listen to the song for the right amount of time. It’s a reflection of everything wrong with America and how “the genocide” is funded by Americans’ taxes. I found myself holding my breath when I heard “Your humanity does not outweigh your will to survive” because of how true it is. Walking Contradiction is the kind of song you wish everyone knew about. Just like War and Ignorant’s voices are weaved together, so are the rest of the album’s songs. You can’t help but start making connections in hopes of following War’s vision or coming close to it. So when you hear in this song “We sell labor, we sell hours, sell our power, sell our souls,” you immediately think of  “I’ve got no money, so I’ve got no power” in Bad Times.

Walking Contradiction remains with you even as the next song, Cry Baby, starts. It couldn’t come at a better place. War sings about hope amidst pain, and you have pain inside of you after listening to Walking Contradiction. “But you did it once before / I know you’ll do it once more,” War says and you think that this can be adapted to everything the world is going through, including America. History books tell you that nothing lasts forever, and that pain ends one day, and so does War. 

In keeping with pain, No One Call Me Baby reminds us of how lonely we can feel. It perfectly captures the essence of loneliness, and you find yourself feeling some kind of loneliness even if you are surrounded by people. “No one calls me baby anymore / I hold my own hand,” War says, but you still feel like she is holding your hand and guiding you through the rest of the album. 

Scornful Heart ft. Tré Burt comes next and you feel its relation to the entire album. The voices fading away at the end are just like this album, both stay with you after the end. The echoes remain with you, just like you still feel War’s hand clasping yours.

The heaviness of the album keeps going on in Gone Again ft. John Doe which the album gets its title from. If No One Call Me Baby captures the essence of loneliness, then Gone Again captures the essence of regret. You can almost imagine an old lady regretting her marriage and having kids, and for a moment, you are reminded of your own regrets. 

“In your old age as you prepare for death
Regret will haunt you ’til there′s no you left
It′s bittersweet, but at least it’s the end
You catch your breath and then it′s gone again”

Till this point in the album, War managed to handle carefully different emotions such as loneliness and regret. She is weaving a tapestry where there are different colors, but they somehow create something very much complete. 

Lay Your Body has its own heavy themes to show off. The longing for someone is a universal feeling, and War seems to know it too well. She asks “Won’t you come back?” and you find yourself thinking of all the times you asked the exact same question. The music feels soft, like pleading with someone to come back, but you can’t show the extremism of your emotions so you don’t scare them away. In a way, I was pleading with War to never end Armageddon in a Summer Dress.

The final song, Debbie Downer, also has upbeat music, and it feels like the perfect end to this journey. 

“You’re a negative Nancy
A Debbie Downer
You’re perpetually antsy
An infinite frowner
This life’s too short
And you’re too crude
Please don’t distort
Hijack my mood”

“Please don’t distort / hijack my mood,” is the feeling you have left at the end of Armageddon in a Summer Dress. The ending of this song feels definite, like a goodbye to the album. In a way, Debbie Downer ends as suddenly as the album started. You remain holding your breath as all the feelings created by Armageddon in a Summer Dress remain with you.

Now, you have ghosts of your own.