This Is For The White In Your Eyes Review

I've never quite understood how the word"big" could be applied to music. It doesn't seem to fit in with the typical vocabulary used to described sound, but for some albums it's the only way to capture it in a single word. It immediately came to mind when I first listened to Choir Of Young Believers' grandiose record, This Is for the White In Your Eyes. The ever-shifting group is captained by Jannis Noya Makrigiannis, who uses his group of supporting musicians to make gorgeous, immense soundscapes. I say ever-shifting because throughout the record only one aspect stays the same, and that's Jannis. The instrumentation is never the same for two songs with the cast moving in and out with graceful ease. You could remove the lyrics (which aren't too spectacular in the first place) and simply enjoy the fantastic musicianship, which of course is a strike against the lyricism itself. In hind-sight, it's really the "choir" in COYB that makes This Is for the White In Your Eyes come together as a grand achievement of a debut LP and not so much the lyrics that Jannis conceives.

It will take only one full listen to understand what I'm incoherently trying to say about this album. Even after several listens, I haven't fully digested this and I think that's what appeals to me most. There's so much that's offered here that it would take many, many listens in order to hear every little instrument, every tiny sound, and every hardly audible supporting singer in the background. The way this is structured could easily be compared to Radiohead, and that would be absolutely accurate. The vocals, the music, and even the lyrics at some times have a very Radiohead vibe to them while still staying mostly unique.

The first taste of the aforementioned comes from the opening track, Hollow Talk, which is among the best tracks on the record. It begins with some simple piano playing, but eventually expands into this huge, powerhouse of a song. The crescendo is one of the top points of the album and really displays the way that Jannis is able to manipulate the music to make it feel enormous. In this song alone there is the ever-present piano, a cello, an acoustic guitar, violins, and drums. So throughout the course of a single song, close to an entire orchestra is piece-by-piece mixed in with Jannis' vocals. The sheer magnitude of that is astounding in itself, but this song also holds some of the stronger lyrics of the record, making it one of the best openings to a record I've heard.

From there the pace of the record never really catches on, which becomes one of the overall cons, but is not entirely negative. Each song has a unique vibe to it, which at time can kill the flow, but is still a musical aspect to be admired. Ambition is a big thing for this group and it's obvious throughout the course of the album that they strive for excellence and stray away from other bands, however much they may resemble a few. While I'm talking about the cons I may as well bring up the other thing that keeps this album from shining, the lyrical slope that begins with Hollow Talk. From there on, the lyrics remain good for a few songs, but by the end of the album they become forgettable and really unnoticeable among the music. There's not a real theme established, nor is there a very coherent flow to what the lyrics are trying to say, they're kind of just there for Jannis' vocals to be present throughout the record.

On the subject of Jannis' singing, it resembles, much like the rest of the record, Radiohead's vocalist Thom Yorke. Whether these similarities were purposeful or if that style is just popular in English music, it will most likely be noted by anyone who is familiar with Radiohead's music. The singing is great for what it's doing, which is just adding to the atmosphere that the music is creating. Though as I mentioned before, what he's singing never really matters in the long run. It's all about the music on this record, which can leave people a little sour depending on how they enjoy their music.

In the end you have to take This is for The White In Your Eyes for what it is to truly appreciate it. While the lyrics may be inconsistent throughout the record, the music more than makes up for it, and for a debut LP, this is damn good. It doesn't surprise me in the least bit that it garnered as much attention as it did in its original country. The sheer size of the album is enough to make you fall into it head first and come out feeling refreshed with modern music. It doesn't blow minds, but it does make you feel something, and that's what is essential in the end.

Hopkins' Witch (Short Story Series 1 Pt. 3)

I stride silently down a beaten country road, a white picket fence to my right and a looming forest to my left. The stick in my right hand makes clicking noises as it slowly pats itself against each post in the fence. I've walked this road hundreds of time, coming here whenever my mind needs to be soothed. Except it's different this time, I don't desire to walk the normal route back -- I wish to walk and never return. I've been living with my mother for the past few years. She's a moping mess, always mourning the loss of my father. I can't stand being around her every day. She hardly says a word, always whispering about how things would be better if my father were there. He disappeared one haunting winter and soon became the gossip of the village. He was a hunter and the last I saw of him was when he was packing his bow and arrows for his final voyage into the forest that hangs over me like a tyrant to my left.

I glance over every few seconds, expecting to see him there with his confident grin and a fresh kill in his hands. I curse the trees and the roots keeping them alive. The local priest tells me that I shouldn't blame nature, but blame my father's tyrannical attitude toward wildlife. I punched his front teeth out. Haven't heard much of him since then. People think it's strange that I'm so violent. Say I'm just like my father, cocky and easily provoked. My attitude is justified. They all forgot about him, even praising his disappearance. I should take his old bow and teach them some respect.

Evil thoughts, not the thoughts a young girl should have, but they stay there; have been there since I first heard one of the boys in my schoolhouse laughing at my father's demise. I had always been a quiet girl, but I changed that day. I grabbed him by the collar and threw him across the room with frightening strength. The teachers are afraid of me, the children are afraid of me, the town is afraid of me. I'm not normal, and that is why I walk this familiar path to my unknown destination. This town is too old fashioned for its own good. Accusations of me being a witch like this is Salem.

Maybe I am a witch. I can conjure the elements right into my hand. The sparks are weak, but they are there. I enjoy frightening the villagers. Put out the fire on their torches as they held their weekly religious gathering in the courtyard. They blame the breeze, but I think they know. They know that I've been watching. I enjoy the feeling of being powerful; different than the other brainless peasants. Retribution is in order for those hypocrites. Claiming their religious killings are justified, but when a hunter disappears they claim his archery is an attack on nature. I should burn them down. Each corrupted hut, each mockery of a human.

No, Angeline. You are not one of them. You are not a genocidal maniac; however much they deserve it...

The fence ends at a crossroads and my stick drops to the ground. Except there's no road to the right, just a barely visible old path. I've never been this far from the village. I eye my surroundings, observing this new land. Back in the town, nobody ever spoke of a trail into the forest. They said it was up to those who enter to make their own paths, but before me was the ghost of a past path. Barely visible, but definitely there. The trail that snaked from beyond the opening in the fence led right into the darkness of the forest. Dare I follow it and risk the same fate of my father? Maybe he's still out there...

I retrieve my stick from the ground and peer for a few minutes into the forest, pondering my options. My eye catches onto a small wooden post lying on the ground. My neck cocks to the side and I'm nervous to even stick my hand into the forest borders to observe it. I realize my foolishness and walk forward and try to pick up the post. It's wrapped almost completely in vines. A small task. I wrap my fingers firmly around it and concentrate hard. In seconds the vines are aflame and the post is unscathed.

Satisfied with my success, I quickly stand the post up, realizing that it was a path marker. A small wooden plank on the top has two words burned into it. Two very haunting words. It reads ominously, "Hopkins' Witch". I stare for a few seconds, silently contemplating whether this serves a purpose or is just an eerie coincidence. The name of my village rings in my head -- Hopkins' Salvation. The story behind the name is as terrifying as the village itself. My eyes read the sign over and over and the connection makes my stomach turn. Is it destiny for me to travel this road? Is this sign calling for Hopkins' Salvation's witch? It can't be... the sign seems over a decade old. I can't pass up the opportunity. I left the village searching for a new home and maybe this will lead me to such a place.

Maybe this will lead me to my father as well. If he wasn't able to handle the woods, maybe I can't either... No, he didn't have what I possess. I can protect myself. I am Hopkins' Witch after all. What can an old forest have that's so dangerous anyway? I could bring the whole place to ashes if I so chose. That's it then. I will travel the path; find what is there to be found for me. My father? My home? There is nothing that can stand in my way. No villagers, no mother, no nature. I am the god of my own destiny and if this forest is where I've been brought then so be it.

I thrust the post back into the ground. It stands strong and I take my first step into the forest, no idea what comes next. I pick my stick back up and hold it as a weapon. No fear to be found, only hope. I consider giving one last look back toward my village, but no, it will only spark the vengeful spirit inside me. My footsteps are mighty and purposeful. The path below my feet is barely distinguishable among the roots and twigs, but I know I'm going the correct direction. There's a small clearing in the trees showing me my destination and I follow it loyally. Goodbye, Hopkins' Salvation. Hello, Hopkins' Witch.

Talking Through Tin Cans Review

Brevity is something that can work both for and against you in the music industry. If done right, it can prove a great deal of how you're able to control your music as an artist; however, if done poorly, it can show a lack of effort and overall laziness. Where is the line drawn for this especially-important aspect of musical structure? Well, it seems that The Morning Benders have found it and house their 2008 release, Talking Through Tin Cans, right on the border. This California based group teeter dangerously between wonderful and chancy with their song structures. While this is a key point of Tin Cans, it is far from being the only noticeable aspect. The Morning Benders offer much to be heard and felt throughout their relatively minuscule debut LP.

Notice how I said "felt" at the end of the above paragraph? Well that's a very important point when it comes to this record. The band provides poppy, catchy rhythms while all the while holding a very real emotional value. This is immediately present on the opening track, Damnit Anna, where we're introduced to the elements prevalent for the remainder of the record -- Heartbreak and confusion. Both of these are displayed rather effectively through lead man Chris Chu's sometimes sporadic vocal work and his especially sincere songwriting. On Crosseyed, Chu sings solemnly, "A crosseyed mess led me from the flames into the dark/Our empty smiles keep us from completely falling apart", giving you a subtle sense of what's really going on in this man's head. He shifts expertly between this confused state to sad and soon enough to bitter. The transitions are wonderfully done and could easily be noted as the album's strongest element.

After noticing the aforementioned strong points of the album, one may sit back and think "Wow that was great! The lyrics felt real and raw, the vocals are really good and the... the... there were other people in the band right?" And therein lies your problem, the music is totally forgettable. Not to say that it's terrible, in fact it's quite good for what it's doing -- But when the album concludes I had difficulty remembering one thing about the music that really caught my attention. Though you must really give them credit for trying, for there is a great deal of diversity when it comes to the music. It always lends itself to the message of the song, but it doesn't strive to do that while also being both interesting and inventive.

Returning the main point of the album, brevity serves its role in both positive and negative aspects here. Take When We're Apart for example. It clocks in at only one minute and thirty-two seconds, but still holds as one of the stronger songs on the album. Now look at Heavy Hearts, clocking in at three minutes and fifty-one seconds, it drags slightly but is still an effective song. It's an interesting contrast as to how music can be structured in order to make an enjoyable listen. The album itself is only barely over the thirty minute mark, making it slightly short in comparison to most current releases. A length such as that can be an absolute disaster if done sloppily, but The Morning Benders prove their worth and make a very effective listen by keeping it short and sweet, but not without packing it with substance.

It takes a subtle and careful hand to craft a brief album with enough substance to pack a punch, and it appears that The Morning Bender possess that particular musical finesse. With their debut LP they show both that they are crafty in their production while also being intelligent in their lyrical trends. The story arch on this record is a really fun experience and if you can catch onto it, you'll be fully satisfied with Talking Through Tin Cans, a great first record by a great new band.

work/sleep Review

When it comes to pop-punk, the way you deliver it can easily make or break you. For the Boston based power-pop group The Appreciation Post, they stumble back and forth between effectively poppy music and the filler-ridden formulas of their genre predecessors. They could easily be compared to pop-punk powerhouses All Time Low. With energetic tunes and lyrics about relationships and partying, they certainly show a striking resemblance to the current stars in the genre. To put it simply, occasionally it works and other times it falls hard. On the group's most recent EP, work/sleep, they attempt to find their feet as a band ultimately establish themselves as legitimate artists. Whether this works or not is based entirely on how much filler you can tolerate in seven songs.

The prominent feel throughout the record is synonymous with that mindset present throughout the summer -- Adventurous and blissfully carefree. Whether this works to the album's advantage is up to the listener. Some may enjoy the poppy, synth driven rhythms that each song thrives on; however on the other end of the spectrum some listeners may be bored by the cliché, sometimes overused, pop-punk formulas that are also pronounced throughout the EP. The opening track "The Beating of a Lifetime", encompassing each aforementioned aspect, will easily tell you whether you'll enjoy this record or not. It immediately begins with an upbeat drum pattern mixed with groovy synth and quickly brings in the guitar to give you the combination that the remainder of the record utilizes (or abuses). This is one of the better songs on the album (if not the best); however from there it becomes a teetering shift between memorable and mediocre.

On I'm No Sure Thing it becomes apparent that the group has no real interest in having diversity with their music. The monotonous repetition of chorus' and the same relatively boring synth pattern is all that's there to keep you entertained amongst the not-so-spectacular guitar riffs and drum patterns. However the group seems to be aware of how they operate as suggested by the shout of "This is prolific filler!" on Doom & Gloom. It's at this point where it becomes apparent that the group isn't trying to take themselves too seriously and simply provide a fun listen, but this doesn't come at a price. Whether it's blatantly stated or not, there remains a good deal of filler here. No Songs Is Good Songs utilizes that same formula of verse/chorus/verse/repeat, which isn't uncommon in the genre, but it's used so often here that it comes out hollow and uninspired. Then there's the entirely unnecessary Better My Future, a thirty-seven second display of pure filler. It may seem that all hope is lost for work/sleep, but fortunately for The Appreciation Post, they pull out a couple songs to end the album properly.

Fear Of Loss gives this EP the burst of energy it so desperately needed. It pulls it from the pop-punk monotony that plagues its first half. All the scattered instruments finally come together to make a very fun listen. While this doesn't redeem the mistakes made previously, it at least gives the listener a taste of what the group is capable of other than formulaic tracks about girls and parties. On the final track Moving Backwards, vocalist Jim Keaney gives his best vocal performance on the record, though it should be noted that he's great on nearly every track. He has a great voice for what the group is trying to do and always gives a confident tinge to each line.

Musically speaking, the EP really has nothing special to it. The instrumentation is everything you'd expect from a group in the genre and it begins to feel stale by the third track where the synth and guitar seem to melt into each other creating a truly boring mess. It will easily hook the party crowd with each track having a catchy feel to it, but in hindsight it provides nothing new and is a terribly safe attempt at musicianship. Only a few aforementioned times is it effective in context with the record and from there on out it becomes recycled and tired. Had there maybe been a little instrumental diversity to keep the attention of the listener, it would have been a much more substantial listen.

It's difficult to describe work/sleep without bouncing back and forth between a positive and negative opinion. On a few tracks, it really shines as an extremely fun listen, but when taken with the filler and monotony of other songs, it becomes apparent that The Appreciation Post may want to reconsider their approach. As mentioned previously, they try to stay a happy-go-lucky group, not taking themselves too seriously. However this seems to work against them with their music coming out hollow and overall boring. The appeal of it all is difficult to find amongst the filler which in the end becomes the anchor to keep them at the bottom of the power-pop sea.

Here, Hear. Review

La Dispute is an increasingly intriguing group. With each effort that's released, they slowly build and grow upon their talents and have slowly become a large force in post-hardcore music. They could easily flow along with the formulas they've found successful on past outings, but with their recent series of EPs they've done just the opposite. With the "Hear, Here." series they show that they refuse to become stagnant and choose to grow rapidly as a group. It inspires a nod in their direction for their musical persistence and skillful execution of each impressive release. The first in the aforementioned EP series is a fine example of this lively musical progression. They take bits and pieces of poetry and writings and add their own special touch to portray their artistic dexterity and it is indeed the group's refusal to become dull and repetitive.

An array of music is present throughout this short EP, with the group utilizing several different instruments and utensils to create a backdrop for Jordan Dreyer's spoken word poetry. With several poppy little noises present throughout "One" and the acoustic guitar keeping "Two" flowing, you never quite get the same instrumentation in the short four tracks. This is a pleasant (and necessary) touch to keep the record interesting and lively. I imagine it's difficult to capture attention with your entire project relying on one man speaking and a few more people playing timidly in the background. Fortunately for them, La Dispute does this nearly flawlessly, always holding my attention and piquing my interest in what Dreyer has to say. However, the band does slightly fall back into familiar trends with "Three" where we hear the whining vocals that has been ever-present throughout the group's works. Though it does feel slightly out of place, it doesn't turn the track entirely sour.

With the superb storytelling on "Four", you can get a basic idea of what the entirety of this EP will be. Dreyer says everything with a confident tinge and it really adds to the way the poetry is presented. However strange it may be for a group most known for their harsh shouts of "Tonight we ride!!!" to release an EP of spoken word poetry readings, it doesn't tarnish the quality that they remain consistent with. It's a clean, simple, and enjoyable release that can be enjoyed by many. With each interesting little noise and sporadic instrument addition throughout, "Hear, Here." presents itself as La Dispute's refusal to become stagnant. It's a breath of fresh air for anyone who might think this group has only one strongpoint, and it will show any naysayers that La Dispute are a force to be reckoned with.

Untitled 7" Review

One of the most promising groups in the post-hardcore genre today, La Dispute have been consistently pumping out quality music since their first EP in 2006. From there they went on to release several more solid EPs and eventually their most well renowned record, "Somewhere At The Bottom of the River Between Vega And Altair". This LP garnered them much attention from fans of the post-hardcore genre, including myself, so it was no surprise that when I stumbled upon one of their earliest releases that I was immediately immersed in the same charm offered on several of their other releases. Their "Untitled 7" contains only two songs, but is effective in providing a quality listening experience. It brings everything you've come to expect from the band, but doesn't feel stale in that regard. The harsh, cutthroat guitar, the cryptically engaging lyrics, and contrast between desperate and screaming vocals all reemerge as the strong points here and it's no surprise - La Dispute has been doing it wonderfully for the length of their career.

The addictively energetic opening track, "Only Everything Below", is one of the most solid songs the group has put out to date. The guitars immediately take center stage until Jordan Dreyer comes in with his swift vocal work, keeping the song at a quick and attention-grabbing pace. The song soon dims down slightly to effectively display how well this band can switch between quick, harsh thrashes and more mellow guitar work. It interchanges between the two several times throughout the song which gives it an interesting and entertaining structure. As per usual for the band, Dreyer paints a lush picture for the listener. With lyrics like "Still, the flowers open as she passes, and the birds, they sing to greet her/Though she heaves blood" he gives the song substance to go along with the impressive musicianship at work in the background. Each small detail of this track excels in a memorable and impressive fashion, however it's up to the next track to solidify this as an excellent outing.

The next and final song is "Shall Never Lose It's Power". It starts out noticeably slower than the previous track, but still has the desperate feel presented throughout this release. It doesn't take long for the melodic guitar picks to turn into full-on distortion-heavy riffs mixed with Dreyer's magnificent screams. The rage he depicts is so raw and passionate that it's rarely matched by anyone in the genre. Again, the lyrics portray another emotional and intelligent picture. Jordan Dreyer has a knack for always keeping your attention with his music and never releasing his grip on your interest. This is ever-present here and is what makes this a very enjoyable track, however not as memorable as the first.

Through a simple nine minutes of music, it feels like you've listened to half of a full-length LP. The music is substantial and syncs up with the lyrics in a majestic manner that La Dispute has always been masterful at. In the end, it all boils down to whether you've enjoyed La Dispute in the past. They provide everything that they've been both praised and criticized for, most notably Dreyer's whiny vocals. However, if this is your first time listening to the group, then you'll get a very solid idea of what's to come of their full-length, but not so much of their most recent EPs, which are a different beast in themselves. To say it simply, La Dispute's "Untitled 7" gives you every reason to love or despise the group, you take your pick.

From Here To Infirmary Review

Let's go back to 1998. Alkaline Trio, the punk group emerging from Chicago, burst onto the scene in a gritty display. Their debut record "Goddamnit" set the tone for what would become their sole purpose in the music industry -- Creating dark, gloomy, yet still incredibly catchy music with a keen precision. Fast forward two more years and we're served another dose of grisly wit with "Maybe I'll Catch Fire". With this outing they soon proved to be a force to be reckoned with; an intelligent and morbid front-man and his partner in crime. Indeed, Matt Skiba (guitar, vocals) and Dan Andriano (bass, vocals) are the backbone of the group. With the drummer position in constant flux, they held the group together until finally Derek Grant joined to form the trio that we know today. A mere year after "Maybe I'll Catch Fire", the trio returns with their third studio album "From Here To Infirmary". As expected, everything that the group has been adored for in the past returns in full force, if not a little watered down.

The album has been criticized for being a tamer effort than what they've put out in the past, and in some instances that's easily agreeable. With "Armageddon"'s sing-along chorus and catchy rhythm, it could be labeled as a radio song with ease. However, when listening to a song like "Another Innocent Girl", you get a somber, heartfelt number that can really stick with you with its beautiful imagery and gloomy melody. Each bitter melody and angry shout sprinkled throughout the record is a testament to their past work and each, dare I say, "mainstream" friendly guitar lick and rhythm brings forth a newer, cleaner Alkaline Trio.

Musical progression is a must if you want to stay away from stagnancy, and that I believe is what this album is attempting to accomplish. The adept lyricism and shadowy moods are still present, but with a coat of polish and a step outside the box from what the trio has pumped out previously. Take a song like "You're Dead", Skiba uses his pristine songwriting to convey his message but is still cunning in his presentation. The line "If assholes could fly/This place would be busier than O'Hare" is one of the writing gems scattered throughout the course of the record -- And while some of the lines can be pretty silly, such as the ending to "Mr. Chainsaw" where Skiba proclaims "In case you're wondering we're singing about growing up", you still get a relatively serious and lyrically well-executed record.

Perhaps the most enjoyable portion of the record is every track where Dan is leading. This album marks where he hits his peak as both a lyricist and musician. Besides supplying some really great bass lines (Steamer Trunk, Bloodied Up), he displays some of the best lyricism to come from the band at the time. On "Take Lots With Alcohol" his vocal sincerity is unmatched up until the conclusion. You can savor the emotion pouring from him as he wails his bleak lyrics about alcoholism. The theme is present throughout most of the record but isn't nearly as emotionally drenched as it is when Dan appears once again on the conclusion, "Crawl". This is definitely one of the high moments of the entire album. The way Dan builds the song to the perfect intensity simply inspires you to experience the heart-wrenching tale he weaves so intricately.

Musically, the group is as simple as they've always been. The distorted guitar and sludgy bass is always in your face, though never too over-powering. While this has always been one of the weaker points of the group, they take advantage of the simplicity here to create some very catchy songs. "Bloodied Up" is a fine example of this, with a smooth bass line and repetitive guitar chords underneath Matt's relatively smooth (in comparison to earlier work) vocals. You get a real sense of the band's earlier sound with the ever-moving rhythm and constantly pounding instruments. On the flip-side of that, "Trucks And Trains" takes advantage of crescendo to make another musically effective track with some pretty solid lyrics as well.

Of the several aforementioned catchy songs on the record, there's one that stands out as above par in contrast to the rest of the album. "Stupid Kid", being one of the best f**k you songs I've heard, gives you that feeling in your gut; that slowly building tension that inspires you to scream the chorus with Skiba. It's these moments that remind you why you're listening to Alkaline Trio. They're bitter connoisseurs in the punk genre and never fail to make you feel all that gut-turning anger and heart-wrenching agony that they convey so sublimely. It's a relatively simple record and they're not reaching for the stars musically, but for what it is there isn't much disappointment. Despite a few slip-ups, "From Here To Infirmary" will go down as one of my favorites of all time, for more personal reasons than anything, and as one of Alkaline Trio's catchiest efforts to date.