Death Cab For Cutie In Hauntingly Fine Form

Death Cab For Cutie moves at a pace betraying the title of its latest single, "The Ghosts of Beverly Drive". Singer Ben Gibbard acts quizzically. Kind of like someone hovering over his own expired existence wondering how did he ever get into this miss. He's on the tour bus to Strangeville in the video. His curiosity maintains an elevated state throughout the song. How can you go wrong with a song where the bass rumbles so convincingly. Who needs nails on the blackboard when Nick Harmer throws down those solid bass riffs. That's what's know as the engine propelling the train. Though I'd never peg this Washington outfit as radio friendly minstrels "Ghosts" isn't going out of its way to be inaccessible. That stems from Ben's chops to Jason McGerr's steady hands on drums to the previously commented upon bass. This bunch puts forth textbook cohesion so that the listener doesn't need a language translator to become totally immersed in the festivties. No real surprise that Death Cab For Cutie plays the apparition card here. In fact I'm hugely surprised it wasn't brought out sooner. Verse one zeroes in on a tragic auto accident and the heartbreaking consequences that follow. Verse two relies heavily on highly dramatized poetry to get its point across. The female in this tragic story hasn't been to the ghostly side of the tracks before. Thanks to the emerging tragedy she doesn't have to say that anymore. The life goes on theme looms large in verse three..."I don't know what I expect to find. Where all the news is second hand and everything just goes on as planned." I reach the desire for language translation upon hearing the words "You wanna teach but not be taught. And I wanna sell but not be bought." Are we entering some dominatrix underbelly? One of numerous scenarios that sound plausible. The lyrics come out at a sprightly clip. I am impressed at how not sickly the whole affair becomes. Perhaps that's the trace of the car victim's last moments of conscious awareness before he bought the farm. There's electricity bubbling beneath the surface. Again, maybe that's brain activity before sadness draped like a black tarp over the proceedings. The video for the song operates strictly out of black and white. Hauntingly appropriate since it's life draining macabre that we've zeroed in on. The drumming doesn't sound to anxious to refrain from picking at the detritus. Call it (gasp) fatal fascination. Ben's also very conversational as he vocalizes. He's a planetary observer, no more no less. "The Ghosts of Beverly Drive" scares melodies that'll reassure you an autopsy report for the band's career isn't needed at present.

Walk The Moon Shows Its Vivacious Colors

For dropping "Shut Up and Dance" on the world Cincinnati's Walk The Moon has earned my unqualified respect. There was enough bounce in that song to make a kangaroo and its family insanely jealous. The brand new "Different Colors", lifted from the "Talking Is Hard" CD, possesses similar perky qualities. Walk The Moon knows how to be nimble, bottle that quality, and spread the love for audiences around the world to enjoy. They already proved during "Shut Up and Dance" that they know what a catchy chorus should sound like. Booties shook. Dance floor effervescence ruled the roost. "Different Colors" isn't as boyishly cute but retains the charm needed to encourage repeated listening. Each band member leans into his rhythm. The finished product leans towards adrenaline first, last, and foremost. Lead vocalist Nicholas Petricca deserves most of the credit for keeping the vigor at a respectably high level. Sean Waugaman takes to his drum kit fiercely. What snarl there is to be had from this outing comes largely from his ferocity. Of course solid guitar playing represents the spark to ignite any musical inferno worth the matchbook it's affixed to. Cue Eli Maiman into the equation. The boy intertwines himself greatly in these proceedings. He doesn't show off for the crowds which is great because his technique doesn't warrant theatrics. Simple works just dandy. His focus stays with top shelf musicianship. Now...onward to what Nicholas is presenting in service to his gregarious tonsil flashing. Wordsmith Nicky runs to the well that provided smashing aural refreshment through "Shut Up and Dance". My meaning points out that Greek theater depth isn't the chord this band strikes. They throw a giddy mindset up against the wall and, later on, we see what sticks. Judging from the first verse Nicholas stalling daylight long enough to explode with youthful attitude. He claims "We'll be rude, we'll be loud as long as it takes. Doesn't matter the generation...youth commands the spotlight complete with devil may care hot to trot spunk. Verse two adds to the fiesta Walk The Moon throws doggedly. "This is why, this is why, we crank the dial to the right. This is why we're biting the bullet. We know the kids are right." "Different colors. We carry each other. We're just different colors." Hands thrown in the air optional. There are bands you'd be afraid to bring home to mother and then there's Walk The Moon, a bunch of articulate chaps who aren't trying to exhaust you psychologically. If you're focused on the waves of loose limbed rapport they're trying to sell you then that makes them a happy foursome. "Different Colors" rocks out in a manner that got Red Bull spark to back it up. Bassist Kevin Ray can be held responsible for that truism. "Shut Up and Dance" smiled at you and asked if you wanted it to be part of your wedding reception playlist. In short "Different Colors" comforts you by reintroducing you to the same four guys who squeeze every drop of charm from their bodies until you're soaked. In this case different translates into the same winning formula.

Foo Fighters Embrace The World Outside

When the Foo Fighters are in sync, the results are out of this world. Pencil in "Outside" as case in point. Dave Grohl's voice seldom gets more seductive. Chris Shiflett hits all the right guitar patterns. Nate Mendel lights up the masses all over again on bass and, well, Taylor Hawkins gives his drums something to cower in fear from. Desert rock has a champion and that champion's apparently Dave Grohl. Even now the band's ability to master a melody and pluck the maximum ecstasy from it remains unchallenged. The band gives you an experience that's balls out mind expanding. As if any additional star power was needed, former Eagle Joe Walsh lets loose with some stunning guitar licks at the bridge. They're seamless down to the last detail. Lyrically "Outside" doesn't hide behind four walls and wait for the carnage to die down. Gotta give up for "Finding glitter in the litter". Affable rhymes are very hard not to fall deep in love with. Lock onto Dave's canyon visuals for five seconds why don't you and see if they don't transport you to agreeable, accessible terra firma. Escapism suits Dave fine as he assures us there is a road out of the cold. It is possible to leave it all behind. The Foos have this exciting history of dropping exceptional sounds into a soup and letting them grow into a fantastic, euphoric froth. Nailing audience attention is one of those key details the Foos do better than just about anyone. "Everlong" had a supreme haunting effect. "My Hero" let drums do the majority of the talking. More recently "Rope" used guitar echo brilliantly. Was a nifty lead-in to the muscular guitar that followed. "Outside" never fails to display group affair effectiveness. Nobody's hogging the glory. Each man shows off what he does best and the excitement rises from the mixing console persistently, menacingly, divinely. The A chord takes up much shelf space which only helps the Foos keep your attention focused on the spectacle only they know how to deliver. It's not like "Sonic Highways" needed additional praising. "Outside" brings a heft as grand as all outdoors. This occasion we get Dave dialing back his intensity. When running on low heat Dave doesn't compromise his awe inspiring showmanship. He knows how to blend into the background but he's got our attention anyway. "Outside" gets inside a sonic nerve, pulls the trigger, and demonstrates one more time The Foo Fighters really excel at blowing us all away.

POD Brings Positive Vibes With "This Goes Out To You"

POD of "Youth of The Nation" fame sure know how to bring the sunshine as the first cut from the upcoming "The Awakening" lays proof to. Stem to stern the melody rises in wonderful waves of spiritual uplift. The Christian themed rockers since the early 90s have been putting the supreme being front and center in their lyrics. Nothing wrong with giving a shout out to the fan base that made you who you are either. Sonny Sandoval has never sounded more sparkling as his vocals soar above the din that keeps us tethered to terra firma. You really do get hooked on his unabashed sincerity. He transcends limitations above and beyond the call of duty. Also blistering in his stage presence is Wuv Bernardo who drums ferociously, on full flame as it were. Marcos Curiel slings a mean guitar in service to the wholesale parade of thank yous offered to the respectful masses. Over on bass guitar Traa Daniels lays it down with authority. The chords stay pretty consistently in the sunny side of the pool. The video will work as a tension buster for whatever stress mess you and those you love have gotten yourself into. As always Sonny keeps his faith leanings securely fastened to his sleeve. The beats skip in good nature and the lyrics reflect that. How cool of Sonny to name drop his band's signature hit (see above). The chorus praises The Almighty backwards and forwards. I discern this from "Hey You! This goes out to you! For all the things you do! Gratitude plays a heavy part in Sonny's bag of tricks. See the fans wave their hands in the video? There exists that same level of love in Sonny's proclamations. Not a drop of lead weight has been set before him. It's free flowing affirmation of self, of Creator, of the mighty power of his chosen form of expression. It happens to be broken down into an easily digestible three minutes and twenty-one seconds. I am moved by the rapid fire imagery in the video from social situations right and left. Again, unchained energy rules the day. "This Goes Out To You" goes out to every musical lover craving a release valve high on hosannas.

Bring Me The Horizon Rise Up To Claim A Haunting Throne

Goosebumps are guaranteed to percolate to the surface during a listen to Bring Me The Horizon's "Throne". It clocks in at a hair over 3 minutes but these guys make their time in the extra bright spotlight count. Want drumming that shakes you down to your nether reaches? Look no further than Matt Nicholls who batters his kit as if he was holding some sort of long standing personal grudge with it. The beats land at one, and only one level of existence...flat out relentless. The overall backdrop seeks to leave you on edge for as long as you can stand the pressure. Don't turn your back on the blistering bass either. Matt Kean roars like the lions you'd find at your local zoo. Pedal very definitely appears to be focused on the metal. Meanwhile lead guitarist Lee Malia epitomizes confidence throughout. Then you throw Jordan Fish's keyboards into the equation. Therein lies the not for the faint of heart queasiness sound "Throne" delivers in spades. Oliver Sykes doesn't vocalize so much as he submerges into the icy grip of white knuckle fear landscape. Oliver jumps right into what's troubling him. His lady friend abandoned him. How very adrift in the gaping ocean of despair was he. The change up in formula lies with how "Throne" stakes out its turf as a male empowerment rock romp instead of the many distaff slanted numbers we've been treated to in previous junctures. The wounds make him stronger. The black and blue marks for him are marks of character. Ollie fashions himself leader of the wolf pack rather than one of the beat down supplicants. Visually, both in the case of Ollie's biting words and the ghoulish accompanying video, Ollie isn't fooling around. His goal is to leave her choking on every word she left unspoken. As a unit Bring Me The Horizon meshes marvelously. The rage reaches saturation level, than spreads its reach far and wide so there isn't a single zone of your ears that doesn't ignite under Oliver's consistent wrath. So this brings me to my blogger in the moment opinion. "Throne" does prove itself capable of keeping rock enthusiasts on their toes stumbling for solid ground. The bitch I have with it leans towards how the shock value can only take this outfit so far. The boys don't flag in the intensity department. Au contraire they're reloading regularly. Always back to the arsenal. Always firing off fresh rounds of psychotic instrumental interchange. I have no problem with staying on one chord either. That helps their case immensely. They lift the battering ram, slam it into your eardrums, then continue with the aural assault. As would be true with any rock show or single you want both your money's worth and the reassurance the chills won't subside when the lights come back up. Can't say for sure the chills are bound to linger but at least they're on the table begging for you to try and ignore them. "Throne" isn't bringing a royal flush to the cosmic card deck of sonic pleasures but it does put the complacent on notice that an uprising or three at a future place and time is highly possible.

Breaking Benjamin Puts Angelic Harmonies to Great Use

Breaking Benjamin snatched my attention from the get-go this time around. How so you ask? The Pennsylvanians found their ace in the pocket hole to slide into during "Angels Fall" and maintained mojo throughout. Each peformer does the slow burn to admirable effect. Where to start with acclaim from the blogger view on the hill. Guitar newcomer Jasen Rauch has the smarts to pick out the right searing chords that best accompany the song's spiritually probing subject matter. Vocally Benjamin Burnley goes for the sensitive man playbook, finds the ideal stanzas and leaves doubters in the dust. Shaun Foist deftly drums using a modicum of tact in how he applies his muscle. It's really a nice burst of fresh air to hear a rock song that, front to back is so intelligently constructed. You're mesmerized from word one. There also appears to be a sonic lightness dropped in nicely and in service to the content. Ben isn't beaten down by any stretch, but you hear how long his road has been. Aaron Bruch underscores his bandmate's inner conflict with bass tunefulness that comes off like a brain scan into the most vulnerable parts of Ben's psyche. Looking under the hood I don't hear fatalism but a drop of optimism, the kind where you cling to the faintest of hope even without tangible proof that the circumstances are meant to get better. Ben's choral contribution sells his tensions like no church text ever could. Not even broken winged angels are enough to shake him from his path. Not many would stake their claim on the concept of forever, since we bipeds know nothing lasts that long. Puny brained mortal that I am I can't even wrap my head around how long forever could be. That's a migraine inducing possibility. Ben takes comfort from spending forever, eternity in faith sense with his broken winged beauty. I think his imagery in that stanza points to end of life and how that isn't necessarily the end of everything but the beginning of a new adventure. Added references to a planetary end game take shape from "Grey skies will chase the light away no longer. I fought the fight now only dark remains. Forever. Divided I will stand and I will let this end. Promise of a better world than our shared island home is hinted at. You have to hand it to Ben for not ladling out the melodrama with a giant spoon. Lesser tonsil flashers might have milked the pathos down to the last drop. Ben dials his technique down which allows the other players to penetrate jaded listener defenses. He doesn't lose contact with his audience despite eschewing histrionics. The lungs breathe deeply on this track. The further along it goes the more oxygen we're allowed to take in. I'm happy someone's countering thw finality of human existence with an "Ah, but wait." That intimates the story of each one of us doesn't stop with the mortal coil. "Angels Fall" was meant to fly and does so regularly. Breaking Benjamin proves that even broken wings ultimately clean up good.