Review: Matt Skiba - Demos

Appears at http://www.nationalunderground.org/news/must-have-albums/177-matt-skiba-demos

There are few records whose titles perfectly describe their own content, but Demos is surely among them. Recognizing the writing stage at which these fifteen tracks were created is essential to one’s enjoyment of the album, and I use the term “album” very, very loosely. “Album” implies a cohesive body of work, but Demos doesn’t quite qualify. It is an interesting listen, nonetheless, but it cannot be held to the same standard. It is specifically intended for obsessive Alkaline Trio completists, to which we should all aspire, anyway.

Demos was recorded entirely on Skiba’s laptop. It comes as a surprise, then, that it contains so many unusual effects, particularly in the vocal department. Matt’s voice echoes, spins, and drifts, from track to track. Despite the lo-fi production, there is a notable amount of experimentation and variety. As the liner notes make clear, Matt took full advantage of GarageBand. The result is a record that will inevitably confuse those who were awaiting an expansion of his acoustic side, as was displayed on 2002’s split with Kevin Seconds.

The record kicks off with a moody opening track where Skiba revisits the lower vocal range that was prominent on Heavens’ Patent Pending, and it is heard consistently throughout the remaining tracks. This captivating croon, which perfectly suits the dark ambience, clearly contrasts Matt’s recent work with Alkaline Trio. Of course, the lively side of Skiba is presented as well, and listeners should immediately come to the conclusion that several tracks were written with the full band in mind. “S.O.S.” strips the Trio’s sound down to its most basic form, that is, a catchy riff with a familiar chord progression. Those accustomed to the band’s trademark sound will have no problem mentally filling in where the other instruments should enter. “Nausea (Cruel and Unusual),” as well, leaves one curious to hear a complete, final version, while “How the Hell Did We Get Here?” directly borrows from (or, perhaps more likely, became the basis of) an unreleased, live-only Alkaline Trio song.

“Haven’t You?” is arguably the most fully-realized track. Absent of any vocal gimmick, it is a simple acoustic tune with sweet, thoughtful lyrics, a reminder of Skiba’s profound ability to endearingly tug at the heartstrings.

Regardless of the limited audience, which is further decreased by the intentional lack of heavy promotion, one would miss out on several under-the-radar gems by ignoring this release entirely. Almost all of these songs indicate a promising musical characteristic or theme. A melody here, an intro there... these are bits and pieces of potentially incredible songs, though due to the unfinished nature of the recordings, it is up to the listener’s imagination to decide where, throughout its subsequent stages of completion, a song might go.

Rest assured, Demos is merely a taste of the future, and an official, traditional Matt Skiba full-length is on its way. Demos brings to mind the kind of recordings that remain solely within an artist’s personal files, never to see the light of day, or the kind that leak onto the internet without the songwriter’s consent. From a drum machine to brief use of pop-like Autotune, Skiba is all over the map, creatively, but then again, the writing process should never impose limitations. With Demos, Skiba brings us into this process.

Review: Defiance, Ohio - Midwestern Minutes

Appears at http://www.nationalunderground.org/news/must-have-albums/181-defiance-ohio-midwestern-minutes

The members of Defiance, Ohio, as people and as musicians, exude an undeniable charm. Their positivity is infectious. At any given show, it feels as though everyone are close friends. There is an inseparable bond between the audience and performers, which is further enforced by the amount of audience participation and the thin, often indistinguishable line between both sides.

It is unsurprising, then, that “The Reason” expresses this same feeling of camaraderie. Thematically, it shares a similarity with “Response to Griot,” as Ryan sings, “We all expect to be up for the next time you make it to town. We all think you’ll be there the next time we’re around. But some of us aren’t going to make it.” “The Reason” is a bittersweet tribute to the dedicated fans and friends of the band, in remembrance of those who could not be with them on their most recent endeavors.

Midwestern Minutes, the band’s fourth full-length, once again recalls the unifying themes of friendship, togetherness, and traveling. “Cigarettes,” one of the four re-recordings from last year’s Songs for the Icarus Project EP, provides an even briefer (the length of the original track has been cut in half) insight into the demanding but ultimately rewarding life of constant touring, while “Her Majesty’s Midwestern Islands” describes a sketchy cruise. “Hair Pool,” which makes its much-anticipated return in electric form, retains the epic qualities of the acoustic original. The climactic ending, enhanced by a guitar solo and a smile-inducing “woo-hoo!”, might even encourage one to high-five the nearest friend.

Lyrically, Midwestern Minutes offers a good deal of variety. Geoff brings a thoughtful, socially-conscious perspective, contributing two phenomenal tracks. “Dissimilarity Index,” for example, discusses the economic disparity between neighborhoods that are located within the same city. “Flood Waters,” the Will-fronted album opener, portrays an anarchistic utopia of sorts, declaring, “Hold your empty disemboweled gas tanks up high. Turn them into a bong or a still. Looting through the gas stations, tilling up our backyards... That’s my rosy picture of the end times, my friend.”

It doesn’t hurt that the band is comprised of fantastic musicians. Defiance, Ohio’s trademark sound has been refined slightly, but their unique identity remains intact. The strings are used a bit more sparingly, while the piano plays a more dominant role. This is merely a subtle change, and each instrument is used appropriately and with great effect. The upright bass even makes a brief return. Vocally, each song is fronted by one member of the band. The song distribution is about even, although BZ and Sherri’s lead vocals are unfortunately absent.

At twenty-seven minutes, my primary criticism is of the record’s brevity. Five songs have been previously released (albeit different versions), leaving a small amount of new material. “Short but sweet” has been the case of each release since 2006‘s The Great Depression, but with the two-and-a-half year wait between Midwestern Minutes and the previous full-length The Fear, the Fear, the Fear, I expected a bit more. Of course, this isn’t to say that there is anything wrong with the quality of the music itself, but the quantity leaves something to be desired. Then again, I wish that the experience, much like that of their live shows, could last forever. Defiance, Ohio, you truly are loved.

Concerning the Boycott of Arizona

The passage of the new Arizona immigration law has stirred up a lot of controversy, to say the least, and my former home state has been placed in the spotlight like never before. I disagree with the law wholeheartedly. I even wrote about it for one of my reflection papers in Race, Class, and Gender, but I’ll refrain from delving into that issue once again, as there’s not a lot for me to say that hasn’t already been said through heated debates. However, I would like to mention a separate occurrence that stems from these recent events, a widespread sentiment that’s exemplified within the thoughtless statement of “Fuck Arizona.”

“Fuck Arizona,” as I’ve witnessed on message boards and other sites, is nothing but an oversimplified stance. It represents a lack of thoughtful consideration. It is a blanket thrown over one-hundred-thousand square miles of desert that, ironically enough, generalizes an enormous group of people, regardless of whether or not that was the intention.

Many outsiders have called for a boycott. Rage Against the Machine and Rise Against (the name similarity is entirely coincidental) are amongst several artists who have decided to snub their Arizonian fans in response to the immigration law. For future tours, these bands vow to avoid performing within those state lines. Southwestern tours, I suppose, will skip from Southern California straight to New Mexico, and vice versa.

Wait. Since when are local Arizona music fans the source of the problem? In all likelihood, no one who listens to RATM or Rise Against is in support of the new law. What many will construe to be a punishment (and if I were there, it would certainly feel like one, assuming that I’m a bigger fan of the aforementioned bands) will alienate a group that already stands in opposition. Everyone else, that is, all of those who support the legislation, will not even take notice of the bands’ absence.

I realize that this boycott, like any, is intended to restrict the accumulation of state revenue. But where do these bands get off in thinking that they’re so important? I’m sorry, Rise Against, but you are not essential to Arizona’s economy. Skipping Arizona says nothing. What’s the difference if, prior to the law’s passage, the band rarely visited to begin with? I’ve never spent a dollar in Texas. Does this mean that I’ve been boycotting it along? No.

Action is much more commendable than inaction disguised as a form of protest. There are much more productive alternatives, alternatives that don’t treat Arizonians as if they’re all bigoted assholes. Play a benefit. Play for free. Support independently-owned venues, or play a basement. Raise awareness to the issue at hand rather than pretend that the state doesn’t exist.

And unless the wheels of their tour buses are not touching Arizona’s roads on the way from San Diego to Albuquerque, and unless they’re not filling up for gas somewhere along Arizona’s three-hundred mile diameter, then they’re being pretty hypocritical to boot.

Chicago Songwriters

The new Sundowner record, We Chase the Waves, comes out August 10th on Asian Man Records. Coincidentally, Asian Man is also choosing that day to release Matt Skiba’s compilation of demos, all of which he recorded throughout 2009. That record will be titled, creatively, Demos. We Chase the Waves will be the followup to Four One Five Two, which came out in 2007 on Red Scare, while Demos will mark the first appearance of Skiba’s solo material since a split EP in 2002.

I have high hopes for both of these records. Chris McCaughan played an untitled song about a year ago in California, the video of which is, of course, on Youtube. It’s absolutely fantastic, bound to be one of my all-time favorites, so I’m counting on that to appear on We Chase the Waves (or at least on a future Lawrence Arms record, but for now that’s a distant fantasy). And maybe Skiba’s demos will include unreleased acoustic versions, or something of that nature, of songs from This Addiction.

Alkaline Trio has never let me down, so Demos should be no exception. Plus, it’s coming out on Asian Man Records, which, along with This Addiction having been recorded by Matt Allison, makes it seem as though the band is jumping back through time, in a sense. That’s not to say that their music has become stagnant or anything, but it’s certainly nice to see a band that has such a strong reverence for its origins and for the people who set their career in motion. “Return to roots” is often a pretty contrived phrase, and I use it sparingly if not at all, but the trio does it justice in an honest manner.

If Demos contains acoustic versions of songs from This Addiction, and I expect it will, then I’m curious to hear the songs’ progressions. Apparently, the production is minimal, as most of the recordings were created in Matt’s living room, while drunk, or something like that. Coming across additional details is not easy, but that’s unsurprising considering that Matt said in a recent interview: “I want Demos to be kind of a small record. I want it to come out kind of quietly and be something that people will kind of have to seek out.”

Perhaps this is the reason that the record, which has been finished for quite some time now, was delayed until August. If you ask me, pushing it so far back makes absolutely no sense, especially since This Addiction came out in February. Then again, I guess that I’m a traditionalist. I realize that typically, a (predominantly major) label will space apart albums to maximize the exposure of each. DGC/Interscope, for instance, could have easily released the new Blaqk Audio record, but first they’re making sure that they can generate every ounce of hype out of AFI’s Crash Love. Greed sometimes dictates album releases, but since Mike Park of Asian Man could obviously never have such motivations (the label is run out of a garage, after all), then I’m a bit confused as to why it’s taking so long.

Regardless, now that there’s a solid release date, the release itself seems much more tangible now. And to think that my future Asian Man package will also contain the new Sundowner... that makes the prospect even more exciting.

Review: Crime in Stereo - I Was Trying to Describe You to Someone

Appears at http://www.nationalunderground.org/news/must-have-albums/190-crime-in-stereo-i-was-trying-to-describe-you-to-someone

Crime in Stereo has evolved considerably from their Long Island hardcore roots. This progression has yielded a notable amount of experimentation, which was adequately displayed on 2007’s Bridge Nine debut, Is Dead. I Was Trying to Describe You to Someone is a logical extension from that particular sound, though the realization of this comes mostly in retrospect. The unpredictably of Crime in Stereo’s music is immediately noticeable upon first listen. At first glance, the changes appear to be drastic and shocking, though subsequent listens entail an increased familiarity. Once the listener accepts the band’s commitment to creative evolution, however, it is easy to embrace this record for what it is.

The Brand New comparisons have been brought up repeatedly, so I’ll try to refrain from stressing that relation. It must be noted that regardless of their apparent influence (which was seemingly inevitable to begin with), Crime in Stereo has developed and matured according to their own unique ambitions. I Was Trying to Describe You to Someone contains few, if any instances of the straightforward melodic punk from which they built their initial fan base. On the contrary, this album explores new and unfamiliar territory, delving into sonic textures that are anything but simple.

Kristian Hallbert’s vocals evoke a great deal of emotion, though the lyrics aren’t confessional enough for me to fully draw the Conor Oberst comparison. The passion is similar, regardless, but the content itself has become increasingly ambiguous, which is fitting.

Songs such as the phenomenal “Exit Halo” touch on elements of shoegaze. “Exit Halo,” in particular, weaves through several different parts, including an extended bridge that features distorted guitar effects before building up to its climax, on which Hallbert’s vocals are at their most intense. Here, his vocal melodies overlap one another, rendering his screams as indecipherable without the accompaniment of the lyrics booklet, and yet this is probably his strongest performance. The wall of guitars leads to a brief, false ending, followed by the return of the most memorable, triumphant, powerful riff on the entire album.

Even at just under six minutes long, “Exit Halo” exemplifies only a small portion of the album’s creative ambition and diversity. The intro to “Young” features raw vocals over a lone guitar, a singer-songwriter-esque sound that quickly turns around, with a misleading bridge that builds intensity before settling into a mid-tempo, soft singalong. “I Am Everything I Am Not,” the title of which should provide some indication as to the ambiguity of the lyrics, ends with anthemic gang vocals emphasized by a faint, droning guitar somewhere in the distance.

The liner notes of I Was Trying to Describe You to Someone stress, “No synths, keys, drum machines, etc. were used on this recording.” To create such unique textures using traditional instruments is an impressive accomplishment, I must say. The large scale of the production is apparent, but it never relies on heartless, cheesy additions. Yes, the album might alienate traditionalists, but for those who are willing to keep an open mind, they should expect nothing more than the unexpected.

Discard any previous conceptions of hardcore. Crime in Stereo darlingly defies all genres, creating an exceptional album that refuses to be easily categorized (I’ve come to interpret the title as being self-referential in this respect, but that’s just me). After the initial surprise sets in, I Was Trying to Describe You to Someone demands repeated listens, as all revolutionizing albums do. From here, Crime in Stereo’s future direction is anyone’s guess.

Insert Synonym for "Good"

I haven’t written anything for National Underground in several months. I’d really like to. I haven’t received any of the mass e-mails that they send to their writers and editors, and I’m not surprised. I rarely click on the site's bookmark anymore, out of fear of discovering all that's progressed without my contributions. Honestly, I’d like to be able to say that I was too busy with school, but that’s only true to an extent. After all, the time spent on each one of my meandering blog entries could have been attributed to music reviews. Come to think of it, a few of them were, ironically enough.

When it comes down to it, it’s difficult to think of new terminology when describing a particular sound. If I spend enough time, I can do an adequate job. More often than not, however, I’m plagued by writer’s block. It’s pretty discouraging, to say the least, especially since I was hoping to make a career out of using this one, for lack of a better word, talent. I listen to a lot of new music, and I’ve formed thoughtful opinions regarding so much, but sometimes it’s agonizing to translate certain feelings into words.

The lack of proper vocabulary constantly hinders my descriptions. Obviously, it’s not enough to say that something is “good” or “cool.” I need to be able to identify the subtle nuances of a unique sound. But how do I identify a sound that doesn't necessarily tread new ground? Most music is derivative, of course, but that doesn’t always equate to staleness. Dear Landlord, for instance, is a fantastic pop-punk band. The three-part vocal harmonies and (insert description of musical characteristics here) evoke the similar strengths of their obvious influence, Dillinger Four. The similarity here serves more as an homage than a blatant rip off, and it works remarkably well. If a band plays a traditional form of punk without pushing any musical barriers, how do I convey that said band is exceptional without relying on comparisons?

Comparison, by the way, is inevitable. It is a practical tool used to outline a general sound. For new bands and debut releases, it is especially useful. On the other hand, it is often my writing’s greatest downfall.

“Dear Landlord, eh? I’ve never heard of them,” said a Generation Records employee upon my purchase of their 2008 split 7”.

“They’re kind of midwestern pop-punk,” I replied. “A lot like Dillinger Four.”

It was an effective description, but for professional reviews, I feel as though I need a lot more. Where typical music journalist jargon should enter, I fall short. As the blogger bio on this page points out, I love music, but I am incapable of playing it. What, for example, are power chords? I feel like I should know. In fact, it’s embarrassing not do. Thankfully, my Music Appreciation class last semester enlightened me on a lot of terminology, so hopefully that will benefit my writing in the future. Dynamics, texture, time signatures... at least I’ll be able to examine those elements more thoroughly from now on.

And don’t get me wrong. I’m far from giving up. There’s just been a selective type of writer’s block lately that’s been preventing me from sharing my thoughts on that which I’m most passionate about, music. Ironically, I decided to confront this dilemma by, you guessed it, writing this very blog entry.

The latest Crime in Stereo album was pretty unconventional. I think I’ll get to work soon, starting with that. It’s pretty experimental, as they've evolved considerably from a typical Long Island punk/hardcore band.

A lot like Brand New.

For Flannel

Defiance, Ohio announced their latest full-length, Midwestern Minutes, a few weeks ago. Var from No Idea Records posted the details on a message board. There will be eleven songs, including all four from the Songs for the Icarus Project EP. I’m not sure if these are the same versions or new recordings, but I’m hoping for that latter. No Idea also posted an mp3 of “Hair Pool,” the final, electric version of a song that first appeared on If You Make It’s Pink Couch Sessions. As with past Defiance, Ohio releases, the song has already become my new favorite. The same happened with “The List” and “Oh, Susquehanna!,” from 2007’s The Fear, the Fear, the Fear and 2006’s The Great Depression, respectively. Yes, it appears that the band is not only fond of commas, but capable of topping themselves creatively on a consistent basis.

“Hair Pool,” for instance, is simply a masterpiece. At just under four and a half minutes (though the acoustic version is several seconds longer), it encompasses everything that makes the band special, while still pushing new musical boundaries. Will’s sincere songwriting actually leaves me with this sudden desire to live in a small town, in a place absent of the stress that arises from urban geography. Then again, there are numerous Defiance, Ohio songs that evoke the same feelings.

I wonder how they feel when they visit New York City. Honestly, I can’t think of a place that’s more crowded, hectic, and intimidating. I imagine it represents the complete antithesis of their ideals. Skyscrapers, enormous billboards spanning the length of apartment buildings, busses and taxis functioning as moving advertisements... depressing sights indeed. Hell, the city itself is like one revolving product placement. There’s no avoiding it. It consumes the consumers. Maybe that’s why I have yet to see “Oh, Susquehanna!” live. Maybe we don’t deserve it.

Not to imply that I have any kind of special connection to New York City (outside of concerts and a record store, of course). Nope. Driving through that place is like holding your breath. Relentless anxiety stems from severe claustrophobia. For the most part, it’ll stick with me until I cross back over that bridge. I couldn’t imagine having to sleep there at night. How do people drown out the noise of honking horns?

I went to the mall today with my sister and her friend. We don’t usually go with the intent to purchase anything, as the drive itself is mostly just an escape from boredom. Still, the mall increasingly gives me the same feeling as New York. It’s the go-to center of consumerism, where a single flannel shirt costs twenty-five dollars. I’m sorry, but I don’t want any part of that. Not for me, thanks.

I know that I’m far from perfect. I’m wearing Hot Topic skinny jeans, after all. Still, I’d like to seek a new alternative: the thrift store. I’ll admit, the record selection could be improved, but it should be sufficient for other needs. Two-dollar flannel shirts should be flying off the racks soon.

“Fuck this city, and fuck this filthy air. Let’s build a-frames in the woods and just live there. We’ll all eat berries and build fires every night, and forget this mistake we call modern life.”

Temporary Goodbye to Stress

As of two days ago, the semester is officially over. My very last exam was on Thursday morning. I’m pretty sure that I did well on all of them, but I’d still like to have a definitive guarantee. Right now, only two professors have posted the final grade online. I passed Political Theory with an A and Art Appreciation with a C. Neither were much of a surprise. I’m still curious to know how I did on the final test, but I guess I never will. All I can gather is that it went well enough to secure those three credits.

Walking away from the campus that day brought such relief. Until September, I’m free. And what better way to celebrate than to attend a Converge show later that night?

I drove straight from Connecticut to Long Island. My dad returned home from work shortly thereafter, and we headed for New York City at around four. My dad dropped me off at the front of the venue, then went to a nearby restaurant. I would have gone with him, but the time at which doors were supposed to open was minutes away. My friend Kyle and his friend Ernest showed up at close to six. I abandoned my spot in line to hang out with them, and I’m glad I did. It’s impractical for one to assume that he/she can remain in one particular location for the entirety of a hardcore show. That’s just not possible. Not only that, but having no one to talk to makes standing around feel like an endless wait, as I’ve experienced on multiple occasions. No thanks.

Ernest didn’t have a ticket, and the show had sold out. Then Kyle recognized John Pettibone of Himsa, who is now a roadie for Converge. They struck up a conversation, which eventually led to John putting Ernest’s name on the guest list. What a thoughtful gesture. It’s too bad I’m not familiar with any of Himsa’s music, but I’ll definitely look into them. The lead singer shook my hand, after all.

The three of us stood in the back, moving up after the first two opening bands (the latter of which, Lewd Acts, featured the most drunken, out-of-control singing performance I’ve ever seen, as if the singer was a modern day Darby Crash). I was pretty excited to see Touche Amore, a fantastic hardcore band from Los Angeles. Kyle and I purchased their LP at the merch table before the show, which they kindly set aside for us to pick up at the end.

Touche Amore received an enthusiastic response from the crowd, almost as if they were the headliners. The band was really appreciative and modest, sustaining that night’s infectious amount of positive energy.

Setlist

And Now It’s Happening in Mine

Cadence

Broken Records

(New Song #1)

(New Song #2)

History Reshits Itself

Nine

Swimming with Sharks

Adieux

Always Running, Never Looking Back

Honest Sleep

I’ll be honest. At that point, I was terrified of that crowd, constantly expecting the worst. Being trampled, beaten, losing my glasses... all were recurring fears in my thought process. I wasn’t willing to fight my way through such an amazing band’s set, so I stood next to a pillar where I could watch the chaos unfold. I made the right decision.

The intensity of Converge’s live set was relentless. The precise technical skill combined with Jacob’s menacing scream was a powerful force, matching the ferocity of the original recordings. Everyone up front quickly wore themselves out, moving off to the side while others brought themselves into the nonstop mayhem. I was gradually squeezed closer to the stage, at which point I was within close proximity to Jacob. Twice during “Dead Beat,” he pointed the microphone in my face, and I screamed my guts out, “Pick your poison as dead beats do. Leave a wake in the hearts that hurt you.” It was surreal. Kyle, as well, enjoyed his own spotlight, singing the bridge to “Drop Out” onstage alongside Jacob.

Converge played a phenomenal, lengthy set. They truly put their hearts into that performance, displaying the passion and talent that they’ve always expressed on the studio recordings. As Axe to Fall was my favorite record of 2009 (http://www.nationalunderground.org/reviews-mainmenu-71/285-converge-axe-to-fall), this show will end up becoming one of the most memorable nights of 2010.

Setlist

Concubine

Dark Horse

Heartache

Hellbound

Lonewolves

Hanging Moon

No Heroes

Reap What You Sow

Cutter

Distance and Meaning

Dead Beat

Orphaned

Axe to Fall

Wishing Well

Damages

First Light

Eagles Become Vultures

The Broken Vow

Drop Out

Last Light

Chicken Rules

When a show feels like a reunion amongst old friends, then it’s clear that the band who is performing is truly special. For me, Against Me! fills that role. I saw them twice on their latest tour, reaffirming my belief that they are terrific performers, while bringing the realization that they are also a different band.

Warren’s departure was a heartbreaking loss. His ear-to-ear smile brought such a distinct personality to the live show. The classic thumbs-up rivaled Fonzy’s as a memorable trademark. He was the first band member I ever spoke to, and I’ll miss him dearly. He recently opened a Mexican food restaurant in Gainesville. I wish him the best.

George Rebelo of Hot Water Music stepped in as an adequate, unsurprising replacement. He’s an excellent drummer, of course, and I’m sure that I’ll warm up to him eventually, but for now he’s still “the new guy.” His drum fills aren’t as fast as Warren’s, but that’s pretty much my only criticism. That, and he has a smaller beard.

The New Haven show was ultimately disappointing. The “hidden” fifth member was a shock, and he was especially unnecessary as a third guitarist on certain songs. Oh well. Several songs killed the energy, and there was nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe that’s my own fault. After all, there are just over twenty-five post-demo Against Me! songs that I have never seen live. Not to imply that I will ever get sick of something like “Pints of Guinness Make You Strong.” That alone makes the show worth attending, every single time.

Crowd surfers deserve to fall hard, though.

Setlist, 4/28/10

High Pressure Low

Don't Lose Touch

New Wave

White Crosses

Pints of Guinness Make You Strong

I Still Love You Julie

Up the Cuts

Ache With Me

Amputations

I Was a Teenage Anarchist

Miami

Borne on the FM Waves of the Heart

Sink, Florida, Sink

Suffocation

Stop

White People for Peace

Cliche Guevara

Thrash Unreal

Rapid Decompression

Turn Those Clapping Hands into Angry Balled Fists

Baby, I'm an Anarchist!

I used the New Haven show as the basis for my contemporary concert report for Music Appreciation, which was due the next morning. I wrote the majority of it in the library, dropping it off at the professor’s mailbox that same day to avoid any late penalties.

The Long Island show was two days later. I went with my sister and my dad, which was automatically more enjoyable as result. Against Me! is my sister’s favorite band, which makes her cooler than most girls her age.

Against Me! played a near-identical set, but for some reason the energy felt much more positive. They played with a noticeable enthusiasm, which tends to reflect the crowd’s own attitude. They also sounded fantastic, as Tom’s voice was clear and distinct. Although the set was extremely predictable, I decided to make the best out of it, embracing the songs that I otherwise can’t get into. Even though the new material abandons the subject matter to which I used to relate, the band’s passion remains. Tom’s priorities have naturally shifted according to his newfound responsibilities as an adult. To demand that his lyrics reflect my own mindset would be incredibly selfish. I applaud his courage and honesty, and will always respect his creative integrity.

Setlist, 4/30/10

High Pressure Low

Don't Lose Touch

New Wave

White Crosses

Pints of Guinness Make You Strong

I Still Love You Julie

Up the Cuts

We're Breaking Up

Amputations

I Was a Teenage Anarchist

The Ocean

Miami

Sink, Florida, Sink

Suffocation

Stop

White People for Peace

Thrash Unreal

Rapid Decompression

Turn Those Clapping Hands into Angry Balled Fists

Cliche Guevara

Baby, I'm an Anarchist!

Unrelated from Against Me!, Dead to Me, the opening band, was terrific. I spoke to Chicken, the bass player, at the New Haven show. Chicken happens to have played in a band called Western Addiction, who released one of my favorite hardcore records of all time in 2005. I asked him if they would record again, to which he replied, "I hope so! Fingers crossed." I saw him again in Long Island while I was waiting in line. He walked by, so I waved and said hello. He stopped, shook my hand and said, "I've met you before." We then struck up a brief conversation. My dad asked him about the tour and Chicken told of his fondness for New York, and of the thrill of watching Against Me! every night. If it's not apparent by now, yeah, Chicken is the man. Seriously, he was one of the sweetest dudes I've ever met. Everyone should check out Dead to Me's Little Brother EP. It's flawless.

An Incomplete Compilation of My Favorite Records from the Last Decade

The Lawrence Arms - The Greatest Story Ever Told

This album had, bar none, the best use of a dual-vocalist approach I’ve ever heard. The track separation is divided evenly. Chris brings the emotional, melancholic side while Brendan contributes the snotty punk rock for which he is loved. And their voices aren’t even exclusive to their own songs. Not at all. The backing vocals, though a stark contrast in style, hit in all the right places. The genius of the lyrics is another remarkable aspect. The two songwriters are so well-read that the abundance of obscure pop-cultural references necessitates a separate section in the liner notes for cited annotations. To top it all off, The Greatest Story Ever Told is loosely a circus-themed concept record, in which there are several recurring ideas. I wish I could be more specific about the unifying theme, but it’s hard to explain. Put simply, this record needs to be heard.

NOFX - Pump up the Valuum

A NOFX album without the mandatory throwaway track or tracks? There are two, possibly three that exist. This is one of them. Pump up the Valuum (a terrific pun that was unfortunately watered down from its original title, Pump up the Valium, for fear of a lawsuit) was nonstop, edge-of-your-seat punk rock. The humor was there, obviously, but so was the introspective side. Fat Mike is clever, witty, and smart, but he will never embrace his intelligence in an arrogant, pretentious manner. On the contrary, he downplays it altogether. For those who can see past his occasionally juvenile, though endearing antics, there are moments of subtle brilliance. “I’ll trade a hundred days for one inside of you.”

Converge - Jane Doe

Jane Doe is unlike anything else in my music collection. Although it is far from being immediately accessible, it demands repeated listens for that very reason. In my opinion, it is probably the most intense emotional expression put to tape. Jacob Bannon’s screams sound as though they could shatter glass. Bannon and his extremely talented group of musicians were the perfect match for each other. The technicality and precision within their dreary sonic texture created totally unconventional song structures, where time signatures were sometimes impossible to pinpoint. The atmosphere was incredibly, incredibly bleak. Converge redefined hardcore, and Jane Doe is undisputedly their magnum opus.

Glass and Ashes - Aesthetic Arrest

Without hesitation, I can safely declare that both Glass and Ashes full lengths are absolutely astonishing. My iTunes library can attest to this, as there is not a single song on each that didn’t receive my personal “five-star” rating. What’s more remarkable is that in this respect, Glass and Ashes stands alone as being uniquely flawless in every sense of the word. Their 2008 self-titled sophomore record is equally deserving of its place in this list, but I decided to nominate the album that turned me on to the band in the first place. Aesthetic Arrest is gritty, dark, angry, and incredibly passionate. Even with such aggressive vocals, Michael Carter shows his ability to maturely tackle a difficult subject matter with thought and sensitivity.

Boston, Pt. 2

Joe McMahon has a NOFX sweatshirt. It’s the one with the ripped off Bad Religion logo, where instead of a slashed-out cross it’s a slashed-out “FX.” Get it? I feel like I’m not describing it well enough. He also has a Twelve Hour Turn tattoo. I wanted to talk to him about it, but to no avail.

Speaking of which, Gwomper, the bassist of Avail is also the bassist of Smoke or Fire. Both bands are from Richmond, although the latter spent its early years here in Boston. Never mind.

Smoke or Fire played fourteen songs, taking the stage at about eleven-thirty. I was exhausted at that point, but luckily I hadn’t been standing in place all day, which is usually the case for most shows. For this one, however, I didn’t leave my car until nine. The show was eighteen and up, so after checking my ID the person at the door drew an obnoxiously large X on each hand. I made my way to the front of the stage and stood there for a while, while most people hung out at the bar. After losing hope that the show would start at a reasonable time, I eventually sat down in the corner. I texted Soleil, mostly to look preoccupied with something. Everyone around me hung out in groups of two or more. I must have looked pretty lonely.

They opened with “What Separates Us All,” then continued to play a good amount of songs from both full lengths, plus one from their latest seven-inch, which I picked up at the merch table. Joe told us that they had only sold three shirts on the entire tour, so I guess that made me numbers four and five. The guy at the table was nice enough to sell me the second for half-price. The record, Prehistoric Knife Fight, came on blue vinyl. There are two hundred and five copies, all of which are only available on the tour. I know I’m a vinyl nerd, but this makes up for me missing out on the pre-order (Fat Wreck Chords gave out slightly less limited orange vinyl).

“Fire Escapes” made my night, along with “Culture as Given” and “Irish Handcuffs.” “Irish Handcuffs” is such a realistically bittersweet song about growing up and losing touch with old friends. It’s about being connected to past acquaintances only through formal reunions like weddings and funerals, at which every memory is suppressed by a permanent reliance on alcohol. I know that sounds strikingly similar to Alkaline Trio subject matter, but perhaps that’s why I love it. The emotion is sincere, and it translated well in the live setting.

I didn’t get home until two in the morning, but it was well worth it. In fact, I think I did well on the Music Appreciation test I took six hours later.

“Have a shot and wash it down with another drink. To tell the truth, this shit is starting to make me sick. And the years go by.”

Setlist

What Separates Us All

Cops and Drugs

Filter

Delawhere

Melatonin

Culture as Given

Fire Escapes

The Patty Hearst Syndrome

Modesty

Little Bohemia

Goodbye to Boston

Cryin’ Shame

Irish Handcuffs

California’s Burning