Pacing - PL*NET F*TNESS (2025) Hi-Res

Those struggling with anxiety or depression will find that Pacing, the project of San Jose-based songwriter Katie McTigue, makes embarrassingly relatable music. Often, it can feel like a soundtrack to accompany the running chatter in your brain. Even if you’re not anxious, you’ll find plenty to enjoy on Pacing’s latest LP’s PL*NET F*TNESS, due to its chaotic sonic nature, broader themes and quirky, upbeat sense of humor. At 12 songs in less than 30 minutes, this follow-up to Pacing’s strong 2023 full-length album debut, Real poetry is always about plants and birds and trees and the animals and milk and honey breathing in the pink but real life is behind a screen, will not disappoint, despite McTigue’s attempts to prove the contrary in her opening track.

Yes, Pacing’s album begins with a song titled “disclaimer:.” It’s tongue-in-cheek — mostly. As with most Pacing songs, McTigue line-walks her lyrics on a tightrope between two chasms — cute little jokes and cold, hard truth. Here, she tells us she has nothing to say, she’s just messing around, she doesn’t know what she’s doing, and she can’t sing well right now because she’s sick. All this plays against a punky, upbeat acoustic guitar before being undercut by loud, burbling gurgles and feedback the moment McTigue starts to get real.

Shifts and contrasts make up a common thread in PL*NET F*TNESS. Often, they’re utilized to express a change in emotion and thought patterns. In “Uno!” McTigue expresses how she feels after being the first one out during the titular card game and she’s able to leave the room. Transforming from a jaunty acoustic pop song to a slow, depressing droner, it makes the listener question why the backing music feels like a downer, especially when she just sang that she “just won the lottery” by being ousted from the interminable game. But the music reflects a deeper pain, as the song’s origin comes from McTigue and her family waiting around and killing time together before her dad passed away.

This isn’t the only time we hear McTigue address this loss. The title track digs into the mundane things you must deal with when someone in your life passes. Here, against a punk rock electric guitar and an upbeat, jangling acoustic, McTigue sings a catchy melody while her lyrics express the struggles to cancel her father’s services, especially his gym membership: “And Planet Fitness makes you cancel your membership in person even if you’re dead/ And I think that’s bullshit for obvious reasons/ But I also think it’s kind of fitting.” As she struggles to read his handwritten passwords while also being afraid to look in a nearby box on his desk, McTigue uses her unique experience to explore a universal sentiment from an unusual angle.

Sometimes, the theme isn’t as blindingly obvious, as in “Nothing! (I wanna do).” Though the song, as McTigue categorizes it in the music video, can be a “depression banger,” it also deals with loss. In the song, McTigue expresses how hard it is to find something she wants to do, while singing in an upbeat, happy fashion. In this way, we recognize how it feels to lose someone while feeling outside pressure to show that we’re OK and go on with our lives. One unexpected heavy blow occurs at the end of the song, when McTigue reveals: “Everything new is bad/ And everything old is boring/ Everything used to hurt/ But now it feels like nothing.” Here, McTigue illustrates how grief shifts from an all-consuming hurt to a numbing veil over everything you touch.

That’s not to say that the album deals solely with loss or is a huge downer in general. Instead, it’s as humorous as it is relatable. McTigue’s turns of phrase and unique vocal delivery are apt to make you chuckle, even after several listens. There are several standout examples, like “parking ticket song” (“And every time I think I’m getting it together/ It turns out I just tricked myself/ I’m really good at it/ That’s how I leave the house”) or “Love Island,” which features Star 99 (“Tomorrow I will wake up and sit through 14 meetings/ And by the time I get home, my brain is barely beating/ And my heart is barely thinking and my blood is barely bleeding.”)

All these elements make Pacing’s “official” second album (she’s put out a couple EPs that are only about eight minutes shorter than her long players) a phenomenal release. It’s funny, sad and surprising. What more do you need? Cancel your Planet Fitness membership and join Club Pacing.