Records You Should Hear

[God the Father]

Let me indulge my inner Lester Bangs. Rules are simple: Post the album cover. Every song gets a write up. B-sides recorded in the same session are allowed but optional. At least a few songs get an embedded YouTube; live or acoustic versions are encouraged but the write up should focus on the album version of the cut.

 

I want to start with Thrice's fourth album, Vheissu. This is not Thrice's best record, in fact I think it's one of Thrice's less impressive records, but that's my primary basis for claiming you should hear it...if you can dig Vheissu, you'd probably be a big Thrice fan.

 

Thrice is a rock band from the Orange County, CA area, that released two obscure records in the early 00's that were a little bit screamy before they dropped their mainstream breakthrough, The Artist in the Ambulance. The title track was a radio hit and another standout, "All That's Left," was featured on the Madden '05 soundtrack. The album is amazing start to finish, and includes the best song the band has ever done, "The Melting Point of Wax." The release that followed Vheissu was The Alchemy Index, a set of 4 six-track EPs, one themed after each of the four classical elements. It was an ambitious concept project that included, by example, a Shakespearean sonnet at the end of each disc. It would be easy to argue that Vheissu's bookends overshadow it, but let's rewind for a moment.

 

Encouraged by the success of The Artist in the Ambulance, Thrice took a more experimental approach with Vheissu. Lots of tracks incorporate lilting piano melodies, alternate between sung and shrieked vocals, dispense with easily identifiable choruses, or feature other deviations from mainstream construction.

 

 

Track 1-- "Image of the Invisible"

 

After hitting "play" on our HiFi stereo system, the first sound we're treated to is a high-pitched monotone rhythm--the beeps spell out "Vheissu" in morse code.  The opening track on Vheissu is a good warm up for listeners putting the record on for the first time. "We're more than carbon and chemicals," singer/guitarist Dustin Kensrue shouts after two phrases of a driving three-chord introduction on guitar, foreshadowing the album's themes of spirituality, individuality, and the power of humanity.

 

In addition to being Track 1 on Vheissu, "Image of the Invisible" was the lead single off the record and featured on the Tony Hawk's American Wasteland soundtrack...which I can recall was a huge letdown after unforgettable tracks "The Artist in the Ambulance," "All That's Left," and "Stare at the Sun" received radio play off the band's previous record. "Image of the Invisible" is not a great song, though it is accessible fairly quickly and does feature some intricate guitar work in the chorus. Its downfall is repetition, which has always struck me as a generally boring and lazy way to put a song together, even if shouting "we are the image of the invisible" forty-eight times is probably a pretty good time live.

 

Track 2-- "Between the End and Where We Lie"

 

The aggressive, relentless album-opener bleeds into the surreptitious, methodical "Between the End and Where We Lie." The aforementioned piano makes its first appearance in the introduction, whispering it's minor melody with no accompaniment but a shifty, syncopated drum shuffle from percussionist Riley Breckenridge. When Kensrue's now-more-understated voice oozes onto the track, the shadow of a string arrangement you might have imagined hearing moments earlier emerges into the light. Thrice's lyrics, always constructed in stimulating layers, here speak of seeking freedom from the manipulated artificiality of day-to-day life in 2005.

 

The creeping tempo of the first verse breaks into a dead run when the chorus hits, with triplicate drum smacks obfuscating the meter until the vocals pause and a more typical driving guitar pattern, courtesy of guitarist Teppei Teranishi, takes the spotlight before slipping lower in the mix to support the second verse. The fury dies in the next prechorus, erupts again in the still-too-repetitious refrain, simmers during a short instrumental break, and reaches back for one final knockout blow of raucous chorus. The track is a step in the right direction for Vheissu but it's still swaddling. It begins to grow towards something worth hearing on the next cut.

 

Track 3--"The Earth Will Shake"

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b7bxjDGbrLI

 

"The Earth Will Shake" is a track that grows on you over multiple listens. The unchanging pattern of the pained, droning verses is almost infuriating until one is able to associate it with the track's concept and the mostly indistinguishable snarls of the chorus and outro. The song is a fantasy of the wrongfully imprisoned, inspired by "The Prudent Jailer," a poem by C.S. Lewis. It does feature a lot of melody-free screaming, a facet of much of Thrice's music that you and your mom might find off-putting. I am not a huge fan of it, particularly on later songs where it somewhat detracts, but on this song I think it fits very well, particularly if you're able to read-along the lyrics (because listening for them is next to impossible).

 

This song is a seed that would mature into the "Earth" disc on Thrice's next project, The Alchemy Index. The low-fi, crooned introduction and chain-gang chant with handclaps in the bridge bear many of the stylistic hallmarks found on that particular EP, which features the single "Come All You Weary," that received modest radio appreciation.

 

Something about Track 3 is a breakthrough for Vheissu; its earnestness seems more genuine than the provocative intensity of Track 1, and its subject matter invites the listener to question if and for how much longer we live behind bars of our own fabrication.

 

Track 4--"Atlantic"

 

Introductory piano makes its ominous return in "Atlantic," sliding forward in a gentle and even 3/4 pattern. Kensrue's first verse is spoken quietly and gently, and the tension seems perfect for a massive, explosive torrent of noise to charge forward on the downbeat, but this doesn't happen here....it will in a later track, but for now it is just a tease.

 

After the first chorus, the piano line evolves into a higher-octave clone on xylophone, paced by a rhythmic acoustic guitar. The drowsily delivered lyrics and drifting tempo are easy enough to sway to, even nearly drift off to sleep to, even if the melody is not terribly compelling. Before the final chorus, the initial piano pattern is adopted by a biting electric guitar, injecting just a single CC of adrenaline into the mix before the chorus repeats and the piano finally retakes the reins, dissolving slowly into silence.

 

As "The Earth Will Shake" laid the groundwork for the Earth disc, "Atlantic" foreshadows the Water-themed component of The Alchemy Index. The passive vocals, undistorted and mostly edgeless instrumentals, and "floating" nature of the arrangement conjure the mood of dark and quiet seas that permeates the Water EP.

 

Track 5--"For Miles"

 

"For Miles" begins much the same as "Atlantic," with an undulating piano melody and cleanly delivered vocals. Curiously, this song's choruses are not its loudest moments. The first chorus isn't marked by a change in vocal delivery or added layer of harmony, but the mere entrance of a modulating electric guitar countermelody sprinkled underneath plodding long tones. Worth noting is the reference to John 15:13, the first (in my estimation) of many biblical allusions on this album. As any religious sentiment outside of Alkaline Trio-level devil worship is a liability in rock music, Kensrue has had to answer unjustified questions about "Christian music" on behalf of the band. His response when asked about the "Christian music" market:

 

"We were uncomfortable with it from the beginning because we felt like we were, I guess, our heart was in a different place than all of those other bands that were being labeled that."

 

As Vheissu finally begins to take shape as a reocrd, the second verse bellows above pounding guitar accents about the infallible scales of justice, before settling down into a groove for the second chorus--albeit this time slightly louder, with added strata of instrumental ornamentation, fleshed out with a hollered background vocal reinforcement. The lengthy instrumental break is a showcase of Teranishi's technical finger work, dangled from an eerie, high-register effect long tone alternation. The same pattern continues with added heavy cymbal-smacking as Kensrue's guttural scream returns to rasp out the last few stanzas of lyrics. This is a moment where the screaming seems like a bone thrown to older-school fans. Once it somewhat mercifully terminates, the still-plugging guitar riff fades out.

 

Track 6--"Hold Fast Hope"

 

This song, like "Paper Tigers" on The Artist in the Ambulance, is a screamfest. The lyrics retell the episode of Jonah being tossed overboard in a storm at sea, and Thrice returns to the form of their earliest releases with heavily distorted guitars and a breakneck drum pacing. Melody tends to be absent from this track, aside from the occasional distant-sounding calling out of previously-growled lyrics. The earnestly-sung couplets that punctuate the shrieks aren't constructed in a sing-along style, and mainly serve to communicate the plot.

 

There is a bridge-like break in the frenetic testosterone surge, illustrating the quiet moments spent in the dark under the surface. Lost, miles from air, Jonah is struck by faith in a moment as he is swallowed by the whale, wherein "ribs will raise cathedrals" as the arrangement catches fire with energy again. The forcefully struck tones slow down in a closing ritardando before finally resolving, giving the listener a chance to relax.

 

Track 7--"Music Box"

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3MzRvU5RO5s

 

"Music Box" is the best song on this record, and if you completely ignore everything else in this review I encourage you to play it once, preferably on decent quality speakers or headphones. The fading dynamic whirr of "Hold Fast Hope" gives way to the tinkling of a music box playing "Sakura Sakura," a Japanese folk tune. The icy, minimalist melody rises and falls, and the final tone lingers for half a moment. Listeners might be induced to postpone exhalation during this short fermata, as the next downbeat brings the colossus of sound that "Atlantic" failed to deliver after its own dolce introduction. Though the upper pings of the music box continue to ring, a complete frequency spectrum anchored by the bass work of Eddie Breckenridge assaults the listener in a flurry of finely crafted noise.

 

Once Kensrue can be assured his audience is paying attention, he begins his first verse in a surprisingly dialed-back manner, delivering his lyrics in a smoky, Sic Transit Gloria verse fashion. The repeated use of the word "million" implies a certain grandiosity, here appropriate as this particular song is about mankind's missions to the moon in the previous century. Faced with a universe of uncertainty and immeasurable risk, "Music Box" explores the thoughts of astronauts protected by no insurance but their faith. As Kensrue sings in the chorus (meanwhile abandoning the subtlety of the verse to adopt a stronger, more convincing volume):

 

We are not alone, We feel an unseen love

We are sons and heirs of grace, We are children of

A light that never dims, A hope that never dies

Keep your chin up child and wipe the tears from your eyes

 

Inspiring words that if sung by Katy Perry over a dance beat would probably appear frequently on the Tumblrs of teenage girls, likely included as a caption on some black-and-white photoshop creations--though perhaps losing a little bit of their power at the same time if voiced by a millionaire in a sparkly outfit. On the word "eyes," the mix goes quiet for two precious beats, silent for a half-phrase except for the a capella music box from the introduction. A moment later the full, undeniable force of the arrangement roars back.

 

This song's bridge is its weak point, with Kensrue singing two reiterative lines and Teranishi treating us to a moderately-inspired riff on guitar. Once the instrumental exercise is complete, the welcome, introductory "I know, we are not a-" rings out on the track and the fantastic chorus impacts for a final time on "-lone," running its course once more and bleeding into a reprise of the introduction, the solitary music box tinkling out it's final strains before running unwound and going silent.

 

Although Kensrue is on record stating the song is inspired by the Apollo missions, world events in the autumn of 2005 probably invited alternate associations for American listeners hearing the words "one million miles from everything we've ever known, one million heads are bowed to bring us safely home."

 

Track 8--"Like Moths to Flame"

 

This song is an acceptable followup to "Music Box," though it takes a few listens to truly understand, owing largely to its somewhat amelodic chorus. "Like Moths to Flame" is a fairly literal retelling of Peter's betrayal of Christ. I'm not quite sure how the title applies. The track opens with minor piano articulations, much like "For Miles" and "Atlantic," though this time somewhat duskier and more ominous. The "drop" happens after four bars of introductory keys, but this time it hits more like a single jab rather than the intense barrage of the previous track. Each measure of this instrumental grinding alternates between a 6/8 and 4/4 meter, making foot-tapping a somewhat complicated endeavor.

 

Things simplify slightly when Kensrue begins singing, nearly whispering the first verse in the character of Peter. The volume in both vocals and instruments amplifies for the first chorus, which features a return of the rhythmic pattern from the introduction. Kensrue backs off slightly and slowly as the chorus terminates with the words "I would die for you, this very night," leading into a soft and intriguing guitar foray, a bridge of sorts before the second verse.

 

The end of the second chorus is the threshold of a new movement, introduced by a reprisal of the piano lines from the introduction. After two phrases, the rest of the instrumentation crashes in, this time punching out a different, more jarring chord progression than before. When Kensrue begins singing once more it is with a different voice, now screamed and despairing, rather than whispered and incredulous. An upper layer of guitar work also rings quietly in the mix. There is a shift in the lyrics to accompany the change in the music, as the story has progressed to the post-mortem of Peter's foretold moment of failure. "From my lips lies like poison spill," Kensrue wails, before ending the song, in time with the final guitar strike, with the words "the night that I betrayed my King."

 

Track 9-- "Of Dust and Nations"

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N-hVUpDPCdc

 

"Of Dust and Nations" would be the best song on most records, and it would be the best song on this record were it not for "Music Box." The video above is of the live AOL Sessions performance of the song, which is arguably a more sonorous mix than the album cut. It is slightly slower, but the intricacy of Teranishi's guitar work throughout the entire song is more brightly on display, and one gains a greater appreciation of the string arrangement by being able to see the performers. Not to mention Kensrue's voice, which does not seem to lose a modicum of its power when pulled out of the sterile studio environment.

 

This is a fairly straightforward post-punk song, which makes it immediately accessible to listeners like me. The lyrics interpret the time-tested "to dust you shall return" axiom, using the imagery of mankind's greatest accomplishments ("the towers that shoulder your pride") and supposed remembrances ("the streets that suffer your name") to emphasize the fact that everything we know will eventually be reclaimed.

 

One thing lost in the above live recording is the way the second verse takes a small, slow-burning break at the end with the words "it all will be undone," building an anticipation for the chorus, wherein Kensrue exhorts, "put your faith in more than steel."

 

The instrumental break is beautiful, etc. This song doesn't need that much explaining which is a great thing about it.

 

Track 10--"Stand and Feel Your Worth"

 

This song is a dud, in my opinion. I just don't really understand how it works. Vheissu builds a lot of positive steam with tracks 7, 8, and 9 but "Stand and Feel Your Worth" is a six-minute experiment that doesn't really succeed from my perspective. The instrumentation is pretty impressive for people that are into that.

 

Track 11--"Red Sky"

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VNX5f8bwJGs

 

This is the album closer, and it's a relief after "Stand and Feel Your Worth." Uniquely, we hear piano in the introduction but it's not a flowing melody, just chords on the downbeats. The song begins as a glowing ember, the piano striking like marbles dropped on carpet, above low-density percussion as Kensrue begins the first verse, quietly and mournfully, illustrating a picture of maritime solitude.

 

The lyrics tell of a despairing seafarer who knows what happens to sailors when they take one voyage too many. God and the weather and water conspire against them and their luck, at times, runs out. As Kensrue sings earnestly in the chorus, the narrator takes warning at the morning's red sky, fearing his end in a shipwreck by the end of the night.

 

By the end of the last chorus, however, the character's outlook reverses; he begins to believe that the ocean's dead have empires of their own. Although this optimism is reflected in only the last few lines of lyrics, the lengthy instrumental coda transmits a sunnier outlook, with a triumphant major guitar pattern providing the framework for the album's last strains.

 

Vheissu's latter half is for the most part a masterpiece, compensating for a somewhat lackluster first act. The first and final tracks represent this dichotomy well, with "The Image of the Invisible" being a passable but somewhat disappointing introduction, but "Red Sky" serving as a fantastic and very fulfilling closing scene.

 

Bonus-- "Flags of Dawn"

 

"Flags of Dawn" is a B-side that did not appear on the standard release of Vheissu but was included on the deluxe edition, the Japanese release, and the Red Sky EP that was released by the band in the following year.

 

This is a great song that, in my opinion, would have improved the record by a measure if it had replaced "Stand and Feel Your Worth" or "Atlantic."

 

With sleepily delivered lyrics in the verses, like those of "Atlantic,"  "Flags of Dawn" recounts tribulation much like "Red Sky," but even the first lines are infused with a hopeful optimism. The narrator sounds like the captain of a beleaguered crew, hoping to encourage his mates in spite of his own misgivings. The alternation in forcefulness between verse and chorus somewhat mirrors that of "Red Sky" as well.

 

The song's finest moment comes at the end of the second verse, when the instrumentation dies but for a lonely piano keeping the pace, as Kensrue laments "Watered by the blood of martyrs, blessed and blind as sons and daughters, sleep with one eye open....live with both eyes shut."

 

The vocalist takes an a capella breath before the chorus explodes in all it's fury. The final words on the track are an order issued: "Fly the flags of dawn."

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RpckE3Ot-LM

Edited May 4, 2014 by God the Father

[CatherineM]

You have way more free time than I do.

[4588686]

[4588686]

[The Bus Station]

I ALSO HAVE

[Vitamin]

[4588686]

[4588686]

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[4588686]

[Lilllabettt]

post on GoTF, will read with interest

[4588686]

[Vitamin]

[4588686]

[Vitamin]