Hopefully, the ‘blurb is legible. These Texans knew how to bring the party! One-part angular post-hardcore from the humid reaches of DC (By way of Fugazi and Jawbox), and a whole-lotta balls-to-the-wallses rock swagger.
Definitely worth the six-hour wait in the dank streets of Chicago (Not to mention braving the cold).
Murky, and angular post-hardcore from the bowels of Louisville, KY. The d-beat/hardcore edge lingers, but is not the predominant force that it has been on their prior outings. Melodicism, with the blackened-edge of metal lingering on the fringe. I love this, and everything else Mr. Patterson has been a part of.
Pat Kindlon playing metalcore and more? Talk about Christmas Day, mid-May!
Of all the Gainesville goodies, in the whooooooooooole wiiiiiiiiiiiide woooooorld – you’re my favourite. If they’ve written better songs than ‘Better Sense’ or ‘Just Don’t Say You’ve Lost It’, I haven’t heard’em (Unless you’re talking about ‘Where We Belong’ or ‘Bitter End’).
For a record that’s inspired, nearly, twenty years of mainstream music – this LP has remained (surprisingly) obscure to the unwashed masses. If you like you’re post-hardcore (and woman/mans) THICK – then feel free to dig in.
Justice League Core, and a thrilling display of 90’s hardcore tempered by Jason Farrell’s uncanny knack for catchy (yet unorthodox) riff candy. Why the heck is it that everything these gents create is, for the most part, overlooked by people? Criminally underrated! All of them!
I think nostalgia flavoured the bulk of this review, but after the ‘rose-tinted glassery’ of the reunion show nestled firmly behind my person, I realised this is not a record I’d be returning to. Sure, the trademark ‘Hot Water Music’ elements are present, and seemingly intact – but it just seems a little too ‘by the numbers’. Opening pulse-pounding rager laden with shout-along chorus? Check! The ‘forlorn-third’ regarding the band feeling out of touch with the world? Chizzeck! Bah! I’ll just stop there. This collection of songs, while moderately enjoyable and even ‘catchy’ at times will never serve as anything but a roadblock/impediment to their prior work in a live setting. If someone can look me in the eye and say (With a straight face) that they’d rather hear ‘Boy, You’re Gonna Hurt Someone’ live than ‘Better Sense’ then I’ll put a cork in it (Barring the band, of course). Still love these guys – and always will.
Favourites: ‘Drag My Body’, ‘Safety’, ‘The Traps’
Not-so-hot: ‘State of Grace’, ‘Pledge Worn Thin’
It’s a gamble,
Jeff
“Life all comes down to a few moments. This is one of them. ” – Charlie Sheen
“Life” , like the landscape of Earth, can be painted in a myriad of ways; but it is, invariably, defined in polar extremes. The peak of Mount Godwin-Austen juxtaposed along the pressure-laden depths of the Marianas Trench (highs and lows) – these “fixtures” (Or features similar to them) are ones we draw upon when traipsing about the kaleidescopic “view” of recollection – whilst (often) overlooking the vast expanse “around” and “in-between” them. Auditory art flows through time and memory in a similar manner – the highest highs and pain-inducing lows. As a “point in case”, I can’t recall the number of mediocre bands I’ve sat through in an effort to find new and stimulating experiences – but you can be sure my powers of recall can draw the faintest detail of my first Pilfers show, or whenever a band “delivered the goods”. Fortunately, this night proved towards the later end of the aforementioned performance-wheel (an admixture of the colour-wheel and the food pyramid – with twice the caloric-content – and “spazz-factor”) and we’ll delve into an experience that echos the opening “statement” – a rare and precious moment etched in time.
Skirting the northern end of DePaul University, Chicago’s Lincoln Hall (host venue of this wonderous event) is a nice cleanly venue replete with warm inviting colours (of an earthen hue), a spacious – yet intimate atmosphere, full kitchen/bar combination, and a sexy modern aesthetic. Did I mention the cleanliness of the Hall yet? If not, it bears repeating – this place is HANDS DOWN the cleanest venue I’ve been to in Chicago. Criminy! Even the restrooms are well above reproach! Its hard to imagine a place rented out by FBI “hit men” soaked in the “blood of Dillinger” could be so spotless? Hi-ho! The show beckons! Onward and upward! First on the docket was Chicago’s own Team Band. They played a raucous set of rock-laden punk that reminded me of an amalgamation of the art-rock “frame” of Kudzu Wish , a faint trace of Naked Raygun harmony, mingled with the irreverent punk-vibe of the Angry Samoans. The bands performance was energetic, despite the general lackluster response of the audience (Cursed weekday shows!) these gents rocked the walls and then some. Numbers of particular note were: “Steal Your Song”, “Not In Love”, and “Subliminal”. “Steal Your Song”s sardonic cast brought back memories of horrid scene politicking and high school bands peddling their wares in sunny North Carolina many “eons” ago. Delicious commentary that is both humourous and universal in context to musical gatherings world-wide. Good times!
All Eyes West stepped in to a fairly packed venue and collided with the indifferent patrons of Lincoln Hall like the unrelenting tide of Virginia Beach. Their “brand” of post-hardcore hearkens back to the glory days of the early nineties when juggernauts like Jawbox, Seaweed, Kerosene 454, and Quicksand still roamed about. Everything you could possibly ask for, and more! Raspy vocals, bouncy bass lines, “stop-and-go” change-ups, dissonant octave wailing, and solid percussion. For my name-dropping brethren/sisteren, I’d liken them to a scrumptious blend of: “For Your Own Special Sweetheart” era Jawbox, early Foo Fighters, and “Richmond Hotel” era River City High (Mostly the vocal delivery. Justin Miller is almost a dead-ringer for James Menefree – at his raging prime). Perhaps a few of the softer moments of “Came By To Kill Me” tossed in – for good measure and all? They were a fairly energetic bunch as well, fun to watch – and I hope the masses steer clear of Mr. Dean’s “back-kick”. Getchyoo-yous-uh-huhs! The lighting, sound, and the general feel of the evening awash in warm/cool cascade of sonic-lashing and invigorating motion. There is nothing better than “riding blind” through “unfamiliar ground”, incorporating the experience into your being, and savoring it as a whole. I’ll be sure to acquire a copy of their new full-length when the time comes – even if Miller bears an auspicious resemblance to the Phoenix Suns , Steve Nash. With bated breath, my friends. Bated breath.
It may be close to impossible for a feeble being (as I) to put into words my feelings and expectations going in to this show. haha What a horrendous way to introduce one of the greatest bands going in the modern age! It should be painfully obvious to anyone “in the know” that I’m utterly enamoured with any project associated with one Walter Schreifels (The title of the blog itself comes from a Quicksand song for crying-shame!). How do you prepare to meet people whose sonic craft work shaped the very fabric of your formative years? Childhood memories of nosing through band leaflets/lyric sheet covers of the various hardcore, post-hardcore, jazz-avant-garde improv, and rock bands these men performed in. At the risk of gushing like a “blushing fan-boy”: these men formed the virtual “who’s-who” list of cutting-edge music/art movements in the 90’s and beyond. As a random aside: it remains a mystery to me, as to why the projects of these fellows never garnered the attention they should have. In a “just” world, they’d live as rock-monarchs/aristocracy.
They took the stage in a simple manner, to little fan-fare, and an audience of (mostly) grizzled beings in their late-twenties and beyond. Firstly, with “whip-cord” lean Cache Tolman, wielding his trusty translucent Dan Armstrong bass. Second, Ian Love – with an effects board that seemed to make him see tiny in comparison. In the “tertiary” front, Sammy Siegler – percussionist extraordinaire. Lastly, Mr. Walt (in the flesh) – red-hued Gibson SG and all. After a brief introduction and thanking the audience, they kicked into “Wring It Out”, the second single from their Pedals LP. Having streamed it, in its entirety, the same day, I was a tad disappointed with it – but it came to life with the full “stereo-effect” of blaring stage-sound. Goodness, every song they played was fairly spot-on, with minor improvisation here and there. The new material didn’t seem to draw much of a response from the crowd, barring a few heads “bobbing” in approval to the rhythm (Chicago is a harsh mistress). When the “gang” broke into mainstay, “Everything Has Its Point”, the energy of the audience picked up considerably, which seemed to be the case for all material presented off their first full-length. However, they seemed a bit off when performing said number. Things weren’t necessarily “gelling” in a cohesive fashion with it, and that could’ve had something to do with the monitor and PA sound being fairly skewed in the “vocals-to-guitar” quotient (As in barely audible vocals). Walter was fairly talkative between songs, and cracked a few jokes about Charlie Sheen’s antics and famous quotes (“Winning! Duh!”). Loved the joke about “discovering Charlie Sheen” that very night and something about being unaware of his general being as of late (“Last time I checked in with Sheen was with Platoon. Its been awhile.”) The rest of the “crew” was fairly silent, but this was yet the tip of the quirky humour permeating about the evening air.
They seemed to “hit their stride” again with crowd-pleaser, “High Acetate”. Hearing the swell of Ian’s effects-soaked guitar, in full, was mesmerising. Every snaring-smash, cymbal crash, plucked bass string, and gain-laden note was perfect and more. Its really something watching these gentlemen render this sound in a live setting. Magic, even. Other stand-outs, pre-closing, were: “Shot After Shot”, “Travel By Telephone”, and “Small Doses”. Their performance of “Travel By Telephone” absolutely raged live. Perhaps, it had something to do with the “band-huddle”? After doing the “closer” from their latest full-length, Walter joked around about “playing ska music” and proceeded to run-through a mock-ska rendition of “High Acetate”. In case you’re wondering – it was just as absurdly ludicrous and humorous as it sounds. My “late-nineties alter-ego” would’ve eaten something like that up (Ska-period and all). Is it possible, in a sonic sense, to produce anything more “gut-wrenchingly hilarious” than a third-wave Rival Schools? hahaha Seeing the Sammy “bob-and-weave” while keeping a “two-and-four” on the bass, with Walt (in tow) belting out the classic ska mainstays of “mouth-clicking” alongside an unhealthy serving of “Pick-it-ups!” Absolutely golden.
The set wound-down with a slow-groove version of “World Invitational” and the instrumental “Hooligans For Life”. Then a random, impromptu “jam-session” of sorts, where they played through a bunch of material that I wasn’t familiar with. After meandering through a number of songs, they settled on covering Dylan’s “Hey Joe!”. Nothing wrong with a bit of “tribute” to the greats, right? Then things got “ugly” (In a good way, of course) when Mr. Siegler drew a wry grin on his person, and proceeded to pound-out the familiar, syncopated “two-and-four” on the bass and high-hats on the upbeat – thus “mutating” the beloved Dylan classic into a third-wave ska “frankenbeast”. Folly! Hi-ho! After “getting their jollies going” with the jam-session, they promised to “throw down” with Worlds Fastest Car staple (Modified for use in the modern age with the Rival Schools brigade) “Used For Glue”. As is consistent with the rest of the night – they delivered on said promise. In a big way! With that, they exited the way they came in – but the audience wasn’t ready to let their heroes “head for home” just yet. After a bit of coaxing action, they returned to the stage and blasted us with The Smiths “How Soon Is Now?” presented after the manner of a beloved band that shall remain nameless. It met with roaring approval/applause, and they departed – leaving us to ponder upon the things we’d witnessed with our bodily senses. It, likely, took a moment to collect myself from the awe and spectacle that was the “Rival Schools” experience. A peculiar man, rumoured to have “cheetah-blood” coursing through his veins, once stated that “Life comes down to a few moments…”, I assure you – this was CERTAINLY one of the FEW.
Set-list:
01. Wring It Out
02. 69 Guns
03. Everything Has Its Point
04. High Acetate
05. Choose Your Adventure
06. Racing To Red Lights
07. Shot After Shot (Sofia Loren)
08. Undercovers On
09. Small Doses
10. Favourite Star
11. Good Things
12. Travel By Telephone
13. The Ghost Is Out There
14. High Acetate (Ska-style)
15. World Invitational
16. Hooligans For Life
17. The Switch
18. Hey Joe! (Improv. Then ruthlessly rent via “ska” fashion)
19. Used For Glue
Encore: “How Soon Is Now?” (Smiths cover a la’ Quicksand)
Remember the awkward portion of your adolescence when you finally discovered the finer points of the “fairer-sex”, (Or “sXe”) and made the oft painful transition of shifting the general focus of your life to that of finding ways to impress them and draw position attention to yourself? Remember the sweaty-palms, hours of purile phone conversations, and the the first kiss (headbutt)? The romantacised memories of history’s byways with an undercurrent of inadequecies and a general apprehension of the unknown – all whilst prodded on with the excitement of what possibilities lay ahead. Like our “first love” music and our subjective tastes are bound to “evolve” over time, and the divergent path often opens a few new doors while hammering a few nails in sundry articles of the past. The music of Revelation Records was a vital part of my life during the crucible of adolescent development and as such, is inseparably connected with many of my experiences and the first foray into the world of hardcore music. Revelation started in the late 80’s helmed by Jordan Cooper and hardcore legend Ray Cappo (Of Youth of Today fame), and presented a viable recording medium for the “youth-crew” giants of east coast hardcore of said period of time. However, the label went through various transistory periods and refused to be typecast as a mere “hardcore label” – as evidenced by the post-hardcore and metalcore push in the mid-nineties and onward. Just to drive the point home: how many other labels can boast of housing the hardcore giants like Gorilla Biscuits and Youth of Today, to post-hardcore giants like Texas Is The Reason and On The Might of Princes, all the way down to the crazed jazz-improv of Iceburn Collective? Perhaps Dischord could, but in a specialised world, you’d be hard pressed to find a label as eclectic and quirky as yellow Rev. As you can tell, I’m a huge fan – so at the risk of gushing in typical “fan-boy” fashion – I’ll attempt to address a few of my favourite releases from the aforementioned label. (For the record: Classics like Gorilla Biscuits “Start Today” and Youth of Today’s discography go without saying! I’ll spend the bulk of my treatise discussing a few favourites of the “underdog” variety)
Shades Apart – Seeing Things
A power-pop band on Rev!? Ha! Its enough to make a “tried-and-true” hardcore kid fold his arms and scowl. These Jersey gents are perhaps are definitely on the upper-echelon of underrated nineties pop-inspired bands. They gained a bit of noteriety for being the “the band that covered Tainted Love” in the early 90’s on the “Save It” full-length. That little wedge of plastic, however, doesn’t hold a candle to the caustic yet wonderfully catchy drive of “Seeing Things” though. Who says pop-rock can’t have a bit of grit, a few deftly placed discordant riffs and not be enough to appease the masses?
On The Might of Princes – Sirens
This one might leave a few scratching their heads, but I firmly believe this record deserves to be here as much as the next classic Rev release. They struck me as a more accessible version of Yaphet Kotto (Which is not to imply that Yaphet Kotto isn’t accessible, or mind-numbingly awesome) that you could use to get your little brother off his Geoff Rickley worship. The dual guitar squeal around 1:48 on “My Hands: Landmines. Landfills” always reminds me of why I love this record so much. Its a tad less screamy than their prior releases, but is definitely the most fleshed-out of all their material.
Bold – “Looking Back” EP
This EP amply proves that Bold was at their best when they infused clean, melodic metal leads , and lyrical content that strayed from the archetypical “youth-crew” mold. Don’t get me wrong: the content (From a lyrical stand-point) still leaves much to be desired, but the Capone leads more than make up for this discrepancy. If you place your ear next to the vinyl ,as it spins, you can almost hear Aram Arslanian of Betrayed testing his skills alongside Mr. Capone. Hi ho! Ladies and gentlemen! We have a walk-off!
Into Another – Ignaraurus
Prog-Metal perfection! I bet the hardcore scenesters nearly wet themselves when their hardcore-hero Richie Birkenhead started up this unit and entered stage-left with a flowing silk shirt and wicked 80’s style “mane”. Goodness, I would’ve given my left arm to see that in action. The vocals might kill it for some, but the intricate instrumental work is bound make a body drop their jaw – even a good decade or so after the fact.
Ignite – Past Our Means A keynote in the time old adage of “not judging a book by its cover”. Ignite fans tend to have a preference for “Call On My Brothers”, but I think this one is short, sweet, and doesn’t overstay its welcome. Plus, having posi-core ragers like “Holding On” and “Embrace” tend to dissuade one from stating that any other Ignite record holds a candle to “Past Our Means”. Seriously, name one Ignite song that ragers harder then “Holding On”? Top it all off with lyrics that not only address what they’re concerned about, but offer a solution in a non-preachy fashion…all belted out with Zoli’s impassioned, operaesque voice. Its a win-win scenario, my friend…no matter how you slice it.
In My Eyes – Nothing To Hide Sweet Pete may have been a self-righteous, Bostonian “edge” snob, but he definitely knew how to nail the “sweet-spot” in the melodic-hardcore department. Youth-crew revivalist fare that invoked some of the best “pile-ons” and “finger-points” of the 90s. As great as “The Difference Between” was, this one was the full-package deal for me. They’d inspire the pseudo youth-crew movement around 2004 with the likes of Champion and The First Step. The Faith cover was pretty decent too.
Texas Is The Reason – s/t EP
Post-hardcore in a literal and sonic sense. Arenas and company were quite the formidable post-pseudo-“emo” quartet during the mid-nineties, and its no small wonder their contract with Capitol never panned out. One can only wonder if the sonic landscape of the nineties would’ve played out differently if these chaps got on the mainstream circuit. Garrett Klahn definitely has one of the most distinguishable voices of that era (Raspy, yet melodic and oddly soothing) – and the general blueprint they left behind has inspired a myriad of bands. This EP, undoubtedly, houses my favourite works by these Yorker yaps – and unlike its LP brother, is “in and out” without overstaying its welcome. I’m still baffled as to to their fixation with the JFK assassination? Does anybody know why it still keeps Chris Daly up at night?
Nerve Agents – Day of The White Owl
They’re definitely not the most revolutionary band around – but the amalgamation of Ray Cappo-esque vocals with Misfits macabre fashion in a punkcore blender worked wonders back in 2000. Dante had these crazy off-kilter basslines that’d just work into your skull, and Eric’s raging vocals always stir up the urge to annihilate all in your path. It was a tough call between the EP and this slab, but this full-length edged it out by a hair.
Damnation AD – Kingdom of Lost Souls
Argueably my favourite metalcore release on Rev. For all the bleak atonal sounds, hopeless lyrics, and machine-gun rattle drumming, its surprising that this one was a “grower” record for my general taste. There isn’t a lot of variation in Mike’s “singing”, but you can tell he’s sincere and that he lets it all out on the table when he performs. Its like digging through the painful and repressed memories of a tortured being, only sans Jennifer Lopez’s incessant nagging and lame VR machines (Sorry, I had to make a Cell reference). Hearing the pain in his voice as he screams out “I’m reaching out for your hand. I can’t fight it alone” in “Climbing and Climbing” still gives me chills.
Inside Out – “No Spiritual Surrender” EP
The major “selling-point” of this band seems to be the infamous front-man who went on to “bigger things” in the years to follow. However, I’d like to take a moment to celebrate Mr. Vic DiCara’s and his geeter-genius (Even if his religious preference is part of the reason why these gents called it quits so long ago). The opening riff of “Undertone” and subsequent change-up still causes the hair on my arm to stand. Goodness, they just don’t make songs like that anymore! Mr. de la Rocha’s preachy commentary and lyrics grate a bit, but everything else is solid GOLD. As a random aside; history speaks of a time when Ebullition Records sought to do a full-length with these guys before Revelation came around. When I heard the live bootleg of “Turn and Face”, a large part of me (Next to my subconcious and my “laundry sense”) wished the aforementioned LP would’ve been released on Ebby (No offense Rev!). Rage Against, who?
Shapes Not Too Selective 