Review: Kris Maseri/Photo: Zach Ramsey

Rating: 3 out of 5 stars

Within the past 6 months, Woe, Is Me is a band that has catapulted themselves to the forefront of the scene. Releasing a 3 song Demo and a Ke$ha cover , the band was able to seal a deal with Velocity Records (a Rise Records imprint) before even playing a note on stage. Will their full-length Debut, Number(s), be able to secure them as the next big thing?

Number(s) starts off with a bang; After a brief breakdown/intro, the band kicks into “[&] Delinquents” at full speed. With a mixture of spacey electronics, segmented guitar chugs and more harsh screams, it is easy to discard this band as any other in the Rise Records family. However, it isn’t until the band introduces Tyler Carter (Lead Singer) that the band reaches its full potential. The moments where his R&B flavored voice comes to the forefront is when Woe, Is Me sounds best (See “Hell, or High Water” and “For the Likes of You” ) To put it bluntly, Tyler sounds nearly identical to Emarosa frontman, Jonny Craig, whom is also a guest artist on two tracks of Number(s).

There are a few faltering points about Number(s) though that really irritated me. First off, there is NO WAY this band needs seven members. I understand how they want to convey numerous elements and be well-rounded electronically/vocally but the musical product on record does reciprocate this. Especially considering the fact that half this record is a repeated breakdown. Another issue I had is that drummer, Austin Thornton, uses the same exact drum fill with little or no variation in every track. Another issue I had is the production on the record. Everything feels entirely too programmed; this may of been the feel that the band/producer wanted but it comes off overwhelming at times. I also have a question for the band; Did you really end your record with “You think you know us? Well you don’t know shit.”? Honestly?

All in all, Woe, Is Me’s Number(s) has the potential to be a solid debut release for the band. If the band moves more in the melodic direction displayed on the record and strays from the breakdowns, they can easily become the next headlining act in the scene.

I’m giving Number(s) a 3 out of 5.

However, if you still use Myspace, consider this your Album of the Year.

Written By Kris Maseri

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Review: Brian “Brains” Conner

Rating: 5 out of 5 stars

Chad Sugg, please forgive me for underestimating you. With previous releases, I never gave you a fair shake. I heard a few songs, I wasn’t too impressed, and shelved the CDs. Maybe it was because I just heard the wrong songs, or maybe it was just because you hadn’t written THE GOOD YEARS yet.

From the start, THE GOOD YEARS, Sugg’s latest release under his Backseat Goodbye moniker, is far beyond what I expected. The bastard child of Something Corporate, The Rocket Summer, and even a little…..Rob Thomas. Honestly, I’m not a huge fan of either of the three, but those elements, combined, on this album, give it an undeniable sound. Eleven tracks of cheery pop-folk, on topics ranging from love to faith to life in Tennessee. I’m not sure if it’s what he was aiming for, but any of these eleven songs could easily be a Top 40 radio hit.

Really, there’s nothing wrong with this album. It’s great. It’s a hell of a lot better than the other acoustic pop singer-songwriter crap that’s come out recently (not calling names, but it rhymes with Clever Scout Clever). A few highlights: “Letdown Of The Year” is very reminiscent of The All-American Rejects’ “Gives You Hell” (some of AAR’s best work since their debut). “So Long, You Were Right” and the closer “Good Ghosts” channel onelinedrawing era Jonah Matranga (minus R2-D2).

Probably my favorite element of the album is the clever references to musicians that no doubt influenced Chad’s musical career. The Jimmy Eat World mention on “Hey, You’re Not Alone”, The Cure & Johnny Cash on “1996″, and “Yellow Brick Roads” reference to the Led Zeppelin classic “Stairway To Heaven”.

“I swear one day I’m gonna prove all you bastards wrong…”, a line from “PLEASE.ILLUMINATE.ME”, the next to the last song on the album. You’re damn right Mr. Sugg, you’ve proved me wrong.

Written By Brian “Brains” Conner

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Review: Brian “Brains” Conner

Rating: 5 out of 5 stars

DEVIL’S BRIGADE is finally here. The long-awaited self-titled debut from Berkeley, CA based Devil’s Brigade hits shelves this week on Hellcat Records. Never heard of them? Sound vaguely familiar?

Devil’s Brigade is the side project of Rancid’s Matt Freeman, a project dreamed up a few years back between Rancid tours. Freeman messed around here and there, released a few singles and EPs, before feeling the call to release a proper full length.

With the help of DJ Bonebrake of punk legends X, and fellow Rancid bandmate Tim Armstrong (who helped Matt write some of the early material), Freeman brings us DEVIL’S BRIGADE (the album). Twelve straight forward psychobilly jams. Short, fast, loud. Snarling, raspy vocals, thumping bass. Perfect.

If I had to pick any aspect of the album that is even the least bit disappointing, it would be the overall length. The album is over before you know it. The songs themselves are a little short (but aren’t all good punk songs?). They do run together a little, but they’re all so well crafted, and the music meshes so well with Freeman’s voice (and those of his fellow Rancid chums) that it captivates you. You can’t turn it off, and you put the album on repeat again…and again…and again.

You like psychobilly? You’ll like this album. You like Rancid? You’ll like this album. You like any other good punk? You’ll like this album. You like beer and upright bass and simple drum beats and songs about ladies and vampires? You’ll like this album. It’s that simple, it’s that good.

Written By Brian “Brains” Conner

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Review: Jared Bowers/Photo: Bryan Giardinelli

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

“Atmospheric” can be a difficult term to define when it comes to music, because it’s something that should be heard to be truly understood and experienced in the way that it was intended. On Being Human find themselves in the unequivocally atmospheric sound spectrum with To Light the Coals of Hearts.

My initial response the album was piqued curiosity, as it starts out slowly, but in a vaguely familiar fashion and never really strays too far from the melody and mood it establishes early on. There’s an ease and fluidity to the entire album that’s alternatingly soothing, scene creating, and yes, atmospheric. Vivid imagery, courtesy of vocalist/guitarist Travis Baker, sets the foundation for many of the albums tracks. Forcefully quiet, the band move through songs about space, creation, and a variety of other conceptually challenging science fiction-esque ideals, but make it appealing enough to be accessible to fans of several different styles of music.

This is Prog-Rock in the strictest of terms, using music to emphasize different, lyrically visualized landscapes and ideas. Floating between serene semi-ballads, to muted, fuzzy guitar driven mini-ragers, an underlying feeling of positivity binds the album together as the whole it was likely created as. To Light the Coals of Hearts, while playing at nearly an hour in length, does well to keep itself from wearing out it’s welcome.

The problem with an album like this, if you could consider it a problem, is that unless it’s something you’re willing to play repeatedly for a few days you’re likely to let it move from one ear through the other as there’s not much differentiation between tracks to be gleaned from your initial listen through. You will find, though, that after a couple of listens you find yourself humming along to Baker’s easy voice. It’s the immediately listenable quality of the album that is it’s biggest asset, while also acting as it’s most noticeably detrimental quality. This is a strong effort that falls just short of being something memorably dissonant, missing only some much needed sonic deviance in order to make it stick with you just a little longer.

If you’re a fan of spacious, melodic Prog-Rock, very much in the vein of later Receiving End of Sirens, then this is something that will perk up your ears, with sprinklings of Engine Down, Copeland and The Dear Hunter to hear if you’re listening for it. It may take some time for the band to find their own sonic footing, but the foundation has been firmly set. This is an album that I will certainly keep revisiting, as On Being Human is a band that very much has my attention.

Written By Jared Bowers

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Review: Jared Bowers/Photo: Tim Harmon

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

I find myself torn with this album. Much like the absolutely and frustratingly schizophrenic nature of this particular genre – what is it, anyway? Emo-metal-core? I really don’t know – I’m having a hard time placing what it is about this particular album that I find so enticing, but at the same time, aggravating.

The Word Alive’s Deceiver is, for all intents and purposes, aptly named. My first listen was on my drive home last night, and I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Their name had me thinking one thing (mediocre Pop-Punk/Rock a la All Time Low), what I got was something almost entirely different (we’ll get to that momentarily). Sometimes, not knowing anything about a band can be beneficial when you first hear them. I had no notion of what they looked or sounded like. My first introduction to them was based on pure sonic aesthetic. I wish I could be as pleasantly surprised as I was with this all the time.

This is an almost ridiculously heavy album. I think I might have actually started laughing at just how heavy it actually is. My car, well, it’s old and the speakers aren’t so stellar. They’re good for what they are, but an album like Deceiver does it’s best to bend them to it’s will, if not put them in some sort of choke hold to force them in to submission. The overwhelming, furious quality of the vocals, how they’re layered, heightened, almost comes off as otherworldly, inhuman. Vocalist Tyler “Telle” Smith might have some pipes, but some very creative and astute production brought his Hellish growls in to the realm of the Monstrous. Coupled with the well above par guitar work of Zack Hansen (who also takes care of the clean vocals, which is might be what ultimately brings this album from “great” to “good”) and Tony Pizutti, the result is a chaotic onslaught of riffs and breakdowns o’plenty. There are some interesting electronic flourishes and additions peppered throughout Deceiver’s running time, and thankfully, none of them are terribly obvious, or worse, distracting. In fact, most instances of electronic embellishment are ably handled by keyboardist Dusty Riach. Ranging from operatic, dark metal call-outs to the more of-the-now dance breaks, I was surprised at how well most of it worked. Instead of calling attention to itself, it actually does quite a bit to enhance what is already a technically jarring set of songs. Drummer Justin Salinas and bassist Nick Urlacher hold up their ends of the deal with verve and, especially in Salinas’ case, absolute control.

It was after the opening sequence of growls, screams, and riffs that I could literally feel the disappoint rise. Clean vocals. And not just clean vocals, but the overly emotive, almost too clean vocals that have become a dominating, and in my case, off-putting trend for many of today’s heavier acts. The idea, when executed properly, can be advantageous, and in the case of bands like Poison The Well, notable and absolutely integral to what they do and who they are as a band. For me, the problem lies in he night and day aspects of, not necessarily poorly executed instances of it, but of instances where the difference between the two vocal stylings are so far apart from each other that the noticeable effect is like listening to two different bands at the same time. I understand the appeal of this sort of Jekyll and Hyde persona for a band, because it allows you to play to a broader audience. But I will admit that I was absolutely fooled by how the album started. My only real complaint is that it veers severely off the tracks that it starts out on (the softer tracks really do feel like they’re from another album).

It’s weird to think that this album is so divisive for me, simply from a “I normally don’t like stuff like this,” standpoint. But, the simple fact is, the good outweighs the bad. I was, and am still, impressed by some of the more creative aspects of the album – there’s an unrelentingly chaotic but technically well-versed bent to Deceiver that’s impossible to not appreciate. The heavy vocals might be some of the most doom-impending I’ve heard in a very long time. At the same time, the lyrics, which are about as subtle as the lightness of the album (which is to say, almost non-existent – have I mentioned that this album is heavy?), and the shifting of gnarly, demon-esque vocals to almost-but-not-quite party crashing clean bits have the same effect as watching a terrible actor spouting badly written dialog in the midst of a great movie. It simply pulls you out of it.

There’s a lot to like about this album. It’s a much better release than I was anticipating, and I’m certainly looking forward to what this young band does in the future. This might not be my taste entirely (I know there’s a good portion of you who enjoy this type of identity crisis-ed band, and that’s cool, dudes), but if you’re in the mood for some positively brutal tracks, grab your mesh shorts and your favorite v-neck. And your favorite book of bad poetry. Then get to dancing.

Written By Jared Bowers

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Review: Jared Bowers

Rating: 3.5 out of 5 stars

I keep asking myself why this album feels like it falls flat. I’ve seen the band live twice now, interviewed them, and really enjoyed them on a very personal level. The fact that these particular individuals are making music together should be cause for celebration, as they really are some of the most prominent, unique voices in our scene. But there’s a hollow quality to their debut full-length that is as puzzling as it is disheartening.

By now I’m guessing most everyone is aware of the pedigree behind Terrible Things. Fred Mascherino, of The Color Fred and notoriously, formerly of Taking Back Sunday, leads the way as Andy Jackson, of Death In The Park, formerly of Hot Rod Circuit, and Josh Eppard, formerly of Coheed & Cambria (did you get all that?) combine efforts to make what should be a notable release to cap off a great Summer of music. While there are traces, and several more apparent instances of creativity and originality, the album shows a bizarre tendency to play it safe. The album opens with their first, and several months released single, “Revolution,” and does well to lay everything out early on. Terrible Things are aiming for anthemic Rock with a tinge of the melodic post-Pop-Punk/Rock each individual member has been making some variation of for the past decade. It’s probably wrong to think that they would be willing to take the album in any other direction, but at the same time, it was something I was hoping for.

The dynamic I find most interesting on the album, though, is the one between Mascherino and Jackson. As both have been and continue to be front-men for their respective projects, this is definitely Mascherino’s show. Many of the songs are structured in familiar ways, both musically and lyrically, and speak more about his personal experiences than anyone else’s. Since the album is loosely based on a series of fires that nearly destroyed his home town, it’s an understandable concession on Jackson’s part to let him take center stage for a majority of the album’s running time. Jackson, though, does get his own tracks on which he shines through, helping to break up the album slightly – “Wrap Me Up” is a genuine highlight of the album.

Though they do a fair amount of trading off and backing each other up, the album still plays through Mascherino’s voice. The irony of the situation, for me anyway, is the considerably more potent album Jackson’s Death In The Park recently released to very little fanfare. While both albums aim to produce a similar amount of nostalgia for the earnest, emotional era of late ‘90’s early ‘00’s, it’s Terrible Things that ultimately feel like they fall short.

In hopes of not contradicting myself, I do feel like a majority of the album works because of the sum of it’s parts. It’s impossible to deny the talent and passion on display, even if they are heard through the unforgiving filter of a major label and it’s production requirements. As promised a few months ago, there are riffs a-plenty and the album does well to bring the rock. The quiet tracks are pensive and well orchestrated and the album is laid out from beginning to end in a very accessible, easily understood way. Each member of the band is given an opportunity to show off a little, highlighting the fact that this is a band made up intriguing, talented musicians who have seen their fair share of success.

When it comes down to it, it’s up to you to accept this album for what it is – a record put out by an impressive lineup of musicians who are acutely aware of the amount of attention that will be paid simply because of their names, but did not shy away from making an album that they believe is solid and worth listening to. Because, really, it is an album worth listening to. My only concern is that what they seemed to be weary of as well, as is explicitly stated in “Revolution.” Does anyone really care?

Written By Jared Bowers

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Review: Jared Bowers

Maps & Atlases | Show Review August 18th, 2010. Southgate House – Covington, KY.

Is it odd to see a band to 3 sets in one night? Or, I guess, is it odd for a band to do 3 sets in one night?

I spent a majority of my night watching Maps & Atlases play through a solid 80% of their catalog – both in acoustic form, and plugged in, on stage. I’m fairly certain I heard all but one track off of their newest album, the subtle, beautifully orchestrated Perch Patchwork.

It started off with a trip to one of the best independent record stores in Cincinnati, Shake It! Records. I decided to check out the acoustic in-store performance, unsure of how they would be able to fit the band and the dozens of people who were sure show up in their crammed to the ceiling space. The band arrived quietly, as the crowd of about 50 or so bearded, plaid and v-neck sporting dudes and lady dudes milled about, patiently waiting. In all honesty, I was surprised to see the anticipation on the faces of some of the people there. It seems as if Maps & Atlases has tapped in to an interesting cross section of fans, as there were quite a few people there who I never would have assumed liked a band like Maps & Atlases.

Foregoing any sort of amplification – aside from bassist Shiraz Dada fuzzing up the place with a mini-amp, the effect of which is difficult to describe, but worked in the most interestingly strange way – the band tucked right in after quietly introducing themselves and humbly thanking us for coming. What followed was one of the most uniquely satisfying live experiences I’ve had the chance to witness, as Dave Davison sang mic- free, his voice radiating in it’s absolute bizarreness, fading in and out with a precision and subtlety that’s hard to capture in words. They played songs taken from Perch Patchwork, aside from one older track, but each worked brilliantly, as it’s an almost safe assumption that the songs were written in an acoustic form before being realized as full-band pieces.

When I arrived at the Southgate House in Covington, Kentucky, I was surprised to see tables and chairs set up on the floor in front of the stage. The opening bands were quiet, and moved through their sets quickly with a relative ease that I appreciated, as you could tell that this tour was a genuinely positive experience for them. Being the last show of the tour, the bands seemed just as excited as if it were the first show.

Maps & Atlases set didn’t stray too far from the path of their earlier acoustic set, which found them moving through many of Perch Patchworks pieces, weaving songs from their earlier works in to the set. There’s a noticeable difference between each album, which gave each song a different reaction from the crowd, and allowed the band the opportunity to let loose. The bands earlier EP’s have a drastically more technical, complex feel to them, as the songs from Perch Patchwork found the band moving in a more refined, orchestral direction. One thing is entirely certain, though – every song in the band’s oeuvre is meant to be played live, and should absolutely be seen in a live setting. They are, quite simply, one of the best, most unique bands making and playing music right now.

To add to an already stellar evening, the band came down from the stage after moving nimbly through their set, and made camp in the middle of the floor. Each member brought their instruments with them as the band played through another 5 tracks sans amplification, letting vocalist Davison play the last song alone. It was a beautifully understated, quiet, and note perfect way to end an evening with such a gifted, challenging, and satisfying band.

My only complaint for the night goes out to the absurdly loud, overly pompous fellow who stood behind me and the two friends I was with at the show. During Maps & Atlases’ acoustic set on the floor, he was speaking to one or more ladies, trying incredibly hard to impress them with his knowledge on the band (of which he obviously knew next to nothing about). He claimed, over and over and over, that what they were witnessing was absolutely “special.” And one of the ladies repeatedly remarked on how “sick” the band was. I can’t have agreed more, but I would have much preferred him to shut up and pay attention to just how special it actually was.

Written By Jared Bowers
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