Few artists have as diverse and unpredictable a sonic palette as mewithoutYou. From the scorched-earth post-hardcore of [A–>B] Life to the ambient punk of Catch For Us the Foxes to the rambling quirkfolk of it’s all crazy! it’s all false! it’s all a dream! it’s alright, few bands have created more different-sounding music that still sounds distinctly like themselves.
And nowhere is that wide-ranging individuality as completely displayed as the twin untitled releases that came out this year.
In the years following Ten Stories, a few things happened to mewithoutYou.
They added Brandon Beaver, who was a session player on Ten Stories as a full-time member. Then, they went on a special tour to celebrate Catch For Us the Foxes. Finally, they signed to Run For Cover Records, a haven of post-hardcore and punk bands.
You could look at that set of datum and conclude that they were returning to their punkier roots. And you’d be right.
After the rambling folkiness of it’s all crazy! many mewithoutYou fans weren’t sure what to expect. Several friends washed their hands of the band, firmly deciding that their best days were behind them.
And even though I had liked it’s all crazy! I must admit that a part of me worried that it might be more than a one-off. When the first singles were released from Ten Stories, the fanbase was apprehensive. Continue reading
Looking back over mewithoutYou’s seven-album discography, it’s all crazy! stands out like a sore thumb.
That’s not severe enough: it stands out like a giant thumb that was swollen to five times its size, painted bright neon, severed, and worn like a hat.
It’s been the subject of debate and controversy among the mewithoutYou fanbase, some disowning it entirely, others calling it their creative peak. But there’s one thing that everyone agrees on: it’s a bit out of place.
But while it makes almost zero sense now, when it’s all crazy! was released, it made all the sense in the world.
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February of 2006, I saw mewithoutYou in the Kokomo Convention Center. They had wrapped up a tour a couple months before, had done some writing, and were driving to California to record their new record.
That night, they played some of songs from that record for the first time. And immediately, it was obvious that things would be different.
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As much as I’ve looked forward to this section of my collection, I’m sitting here with “January 1979” blaring at a complete loss of what to say about this record.
Do I talk about the broad scope of Aaron’s lyrics as he dissects theology, philosophy, and his own mental state in a yelping shout? Do I talk about how the rest of the band broke the doors off of punk music to create some of the greatest soundscapes put to tape? Do I talk about how over the last fourteen years, no record has meant more to me?
Because this record is all that and more. And if I didn’t have work to do today, I could write about this record all day.
In the summer of 2004, I found a copy of [A–>B] Life by mewithoutYou in the church camp bookstore for $7. I had seen the name trudging through the Tooth and Nail website (the things we used to do to find new music), and I was enchanted by Vasily Kafanov’s album art, so I took a chance on it.
On first listen, I hated it.
But following along with the lyric sheet, I realized that there might be a worthwhile experience if I could dig in deeper. So I listened again. And again. And a few more times.
And over a few listens, I became fully convinced of the genius of this bookish, experimental post-hardcore outfit.
Few groups have as varied a discography as mewithoutYou. They’ve forged a musical niche for themselves that is as diverse as it is consistent. Their records have run the gamut from blistering post-hardcore to intense indie rock to charming folk.
But looking back across eighteen years and seven albums, it can be easy to forget that mewithoutYou (whispers) sorta started out as a joke.
Ever since Alcest’s 2005 Le Secret, bandleader Neige’s fascination for shoegaze, dream pop, and post rock have been no secret. Throughout their career, they had fused elements of those sounds with traditional black metal to make something truly special.
But on 2014’s Shelter, they leaned heavy on the gentler side of their sonic palette.
For all of its simplicity, there’s something about punk that’s just slightly inaccessible.
If it keeps too close to the formula, it’s derivative. If it strays too far, or even if it has the right sonics but the wrong attitude, it’s a sell out.
Even if a band captures all of the fury and wrath of punk live, capturing that energy on record is as difficult capturing lightning in a jar.
But nobody must have told METZ.