Don’t Call It a Gimmick

Brooklyn’s Jobber pairs muscular riffs and sugary hooks with songwriting inspired by the world of professional wrestling.

BY NICK HARLEY

Does your 9-to-5 ever make you feel like a jobber?

In the world of professional wrestling, a jobber is someone who frequently and deliberately loses matches to help push another performer’s popularity. Usually, the anonymous jobber isn’t just meant to lose but to get absolutely squashed by the bigger name. Being a jobber in the hard-hitting world of professional wrestling isn’t all that glamorous, but really, does it sound worse than being a jobber in a normal office setting, where the physical beatings are replaced with spiritual and emotional ones?

The parallels of being a bottomof-the-card wrestler and an underappreciated gig worker sparked something in Kate Meizner, a Brooklyn-based songwriter who has toured as a guitarist with Snail Mail and played in bands such as The Glow, Potty Mouth, and Hellrazor.

“I had a lot of really crappy jobs,” Meizner tells Den of Geek. “Even the jobs that are supposed to be good, I still saw a lot of the same bullshit, like people not paying you for your labor. Wage theft. Unfair treatment in the office, especially women and people of color getting treated like garbage. Contract workers being exploited by whoever they’re contracting with, without any health insurance. All these things I picked up, just being in the workforce for so long.”

With these experiences on her mind, Meizner started her new band Jobber, featuring former Ovlov and Speedy Ortiz drummer Mike Falcone, guitarist Michael Julius, and bassist Maggie Toth. The band’s sound pulls from the greatest aspects of ’90s alternative, from sugary, synth-fueled hooks reminiscent of The Rentals, to muscular, heavy riffs akin to bands like Hum and Helmet. Conceptually, Jobber uses professional wrestling as a jumping-off point, addressing topics like labor issues and finding parallels between the worlds of touring musicians and sports entertainers.

BURIED: When a wrestler continuously loses and therefore loses their appeal.

“Wrestlers started speaking openly about the havoc that the lifestyle was wreaking on their physical and mental health and describing being overnight in a car for six hours, eating Wendy’s every night,” Meizner explains. “I saw the exact same

The wrestling business is full of unique terminology and jargon. To help decipher some of Jobber’s lyrics, here’s a look at some key phrases.

BABYFACE (OR FACE): The good guy or hero. The one fans are behind.

HEAT: When a wrestler generates boos or a strong, negative reaction from the crowd. Can also describe when two wrestlers or promoters have real-life issues.

Heel

The bad guy or villain. The antagonist that is generating “heat.” situation I was in. I was like, ‘Holy moly, this is really similar.’”

Meizner had a passing interest in wrestling as a kid, mostly because it was something her parents forbade her from watching. She was reintroduced as an adult when a bandmate from a past project was working as a music supervisor for World Wrestling Entertainment.

KAYFABE: The portrayal of staged events within the wrestling industry as genuine. Breaking kayfabe means acknowledging that an event or persona is not real.

“It just hooked me,” Meizner says. “I’m really drawn to any form of entertainment that is campy and involves a spectacle, but there’s also a lot to unpack about it.”

Finding the similarities between her life as a musician and a professional wrestler—including the potential of performing for an empty venue or even an openly hostile crowd—isn’t the only thing that drew Meizner to exploring wrestling as a metaphor. Meizner earnestly believes that professional wrestling can be a sort of funhouse mirror reflection of life.

TWEENER: Wrestler who is neither a face nor a heel.

TURN: When a wrestler switches from heel to babyface or from babyface to heel.

SHOOT: When a wrestler goes off-script, either by saying something unscripted or performing a legitimate fighting move.

“[Wrestling] taps into a lot of the common emotions and motivations that people experience on a day-today basis,” Meizner says. “So it’s really easy to connect to emotionally for me, and I feel like a lot of the things, even in the storylines, can be relatable.”

Song titles like “Entrance Theme,” “Heel Turn,” and “Hell in a Cell,” also the title of their 2022 EP, play into the wrestling association hard, but while the lyrics may use some jargon familiar to fans of the squared circle, anyone can relate to themes about exploitation, personal accountability, and frustration. And anyone worried that Jobber will burn through the concept too quickly can rest easy.

“I’ve already written most of our follow-up full-length,” Meizner confirms. “I’m starting to explore other topics still tied into the wrestling realm, but more related to the interpersonal motivations and storylines and sort of extrapolating those into real-life situations. There’s a lot of ground to cover.”

Even the wrestling agnostic can appreciate a rich metaphor, but die hard wrestling fans should know this isn’t a cheap gimmick. Hardcore legend Mick Foley himself kicks off Hell in a Cell with a signature promo against the band, as fine a cred signifier as any.

While Meizner and Jobber are coming to SXSW as scrappy underdogs still working full-time jobs, it’s clear from one listen of Hell in a Cell that this is a band with heavyweight aspirations, with the wit and tunes to knock out any doubters.

Work

Something that is scripted to happen. The opposite of a shoot.

WORKED SHOOT: Something that is scripted to give the appearance that it is actually “real.” Blending the lines of fact and fiction and exposing the inner workings.