Let’s set the scene.
It’s the year 2000. I’m a thirteen-year-old kid. I’ve just started to get into music, mostly through pop punk and ska. But at the same time, I’m coming to grips with how heavy the world can be.
Then, on a Thanksgiving trip to California, I stumbled upon Hybrid Theory by Linkin Park.
I’m an absolute sucker for blackgaze.
On paper, it might seem like black metal, post rock, and shoegaze are a strange mixture. The three genres share a fascination with ambient textures and heart-rending emotion, but they take wildly different paths to get there.
Blackgaze splits the difference, and manages to capture every good bit of each—and then some. Continue reading
Post rock is a strange beast. While there’s no shortage of climax-chasing, effect-laden, instrumental guitar bands, it can sometimes feel like very few post rock acts are able to use that template to create authentically engaging music. Most of them are just boring.
But BLAK isn’t most bands.
I first saw Pittsburgh’s Lawn Care passing through my local coffeehouse venue. They played a “stripped” set that included two guitars, a bass guitar, and a trumpet. And even in such a minimalist context, they were absolutely hypnotizing.
So when I caught them playing as a full band, I was entranced. I had to have the record.
Continue reading
In 1994, a Seattle hardcore* band called Sunny Day Real Estate released Diary. It was a veritable tour de force of emotional range, led by the otherworldly falsetto of Jeremy Enigk. It lit the underground music scene on fire—it’s even credited by some as the first proper emo album.
Then, as quickly as they had gained prominence, the group broke up. They released one strange, mathy, untitled follow-up, then the group went their separate ways.
A year later, Jeremy released his first solo record. I’m not sure what Sunny Day fans were expecting, but it was not Return of the Frog Queen. Continue reading
I don’t know a whole lot about Hop Along. I know that they’re on Saddle Creek—home of bands like Bright Eyes and Cursive—and I know that I’ve heard their name tossed around among emo circles.
With this information, I expected a lot of heart-tugging songwriting and emotive delivery.
I did not expect it to be so damn catchy. Continue reading
I arrived at college as a scene kid freshman with a swoopy haircut, girl jeans, and a CD wallet filled with metalcore and emo albums.
Living in a dorm beside so many diverse music fans was a quick relief for that.
In the first few months, I was inundated with wonderful music that expanded my own tastes outward—many of those CDs still have a place among my favorite records. Artists like Sigur Rós, the Mars Volta, Imogen Heap and Frou Frou, Bright Eyes…
And Damien Rice.
As a guitarist, I sometimes bemoan modern music’s shift away from the instrument. Even modern guitar legends like St. Vincent’s Annie Clark have pivoted away from a guitar-centric approach.
But then, you have Cloakroom (who apparently live pretty close to me).
Across their first four albums, Led Zeppelin had rocked harder and explored more than any band before them.
It was a double-edged sword. They had created some of the most indelible songs in rock and roll history. But how were they supposed to top “Stairway to Heaven”?
They wouldn’t, actually.
By their second album, Led Zeppelin had already revolutionized hard rock. By their third, they had injected traditional folk elements to round out their songwriting.
So where could they possibly go for their fourth? They had already subverted every expectation of their genre and broken every limitation of the recording process.
But they weren’t about to rest now. Continue reading