Trying to evaluate your favorite band’s latest album is sort of like how I imagine self-performed open-heart surgery. And to boot, having that band be Brand New—a gang that earns as much sharp-tongued bullets as it does hugs and wet dream objectivity—it’s like your words should be as ground-breaking as they come. They’re the reason I literally wear a nickel around my neck (a nod to “The No Seatbelt Song,” my dears). 
This Daisy conglomeration of a rock-and-ail renegade reaction has been pleasantly ground into my ears so much that I needed a hiatus of personal opinion. So I took the inevitable route—I asked the dude that introduced me to my emotionally whip lashed boys to provide a few words. His review was so great that I had to take a back seat, because these next paragraphs simply nail the idea.
In a word: “distressed.” The guitars are distressed, the production’s distressed, the vocals and the lyrics… my God, the vocals and the lyrics may come to define distressed.
More so than Devil and God, they’ve removed themselves from the emo scrap heap that they were so closely associated with just a few years ago. And it doesn’t sound like a self-conscious decision to pursue their current sound; it sounds exactly as it should – a natural progression from where they were then to where they are now.
Musically (that sounds dumb, doesn’t it?), the band continues to not exactly break new ground, but serve as a fascinating mixture of their own sensibilities and those of their influences: a little Nirvana here, some Fugazi there, a pinch of Modest Mouse and Neutral Milk Hotel to spice things up. They’re songwriting craft remains solidly in the verse-chorus-verse-chorus-bridge-chorus vein, but they’re not afraid to take the songs down unexpected passages or pursue interludes that they may have shied away from before.
The production is much looser and jammier than anything they’ve done before. Less energy seems to be devoted to click-track perfectionism, and all of it seems focused on raw aggression and bashing away on their instruments. Which isn’t to say it’s lo-fi or sloppy – the guitars are still thick and sound fantastic in stereo, the bass and drums are still boomy and clear… it’s just that everything is done a little messier and rough around the edges.
The lyrics are darker and more tortured than ever. I know Jesse said Vinnie did the majority of the writing (you can probably clear up whether he meant with music, lyrics or both) but whoever wrote them seriously needs a hug. It’s one thing to sing about a millstone being tied to your neck; another thing to scream about your realization that your dead relatives are being eaten away by worms. At times it feels like their Your Favorite Weapon sense of humor is back, as the lyrics are SO morbid, you think it may be self-concious or satirical… but the ending refrain of “I’m on my way out” is genuinely disturbing and leaves a bitter aftertaste.
And because of the novelty, here’s a little song-by-song breakdown
- “Vices” – deliriously awesome, a mini raging animal of a song…when you get past the music box haunting start.
- “Bed” – smooth, mellow, goes down like amber ale
- “At the Bottom” – kind of Modest Mouse-y, powerful chorus and a great, jittery bridge with an anthemic edge
- “Gasoline” – oddly constructed, but driving and memorable
- “You Stole” – really great… the initial melody leads you to believe it’ll be a poppier (albeit still minor key), shorter tune, but it turns into something a little more somber and lengthy
- “Be Gone” – short and haunting – I have no idea why they wanted a nasty, Southern bluesy acoustic interlude, but I’m glad they did
- “Sink” – rough and violent, but fun, if that’s possible
- “Bought a Bride” – a highlight: trippy, groovy, probably my favorite on the album, along with the opening track
- “Daisy” – I only listened to this a couple of times and can’t remember enough to comment on it; ironically the album’s disappointment
- “In a Jar” – Quite possibly the rawest climax, with eastern-influenced choruses and the signature Lacey sing-to-screech vocals
- “Noro” – a great, dense, lingerer. The epitome of closing perfection, it combines a formula of bass and percussion with spoken and sung verses
The major heartbreaking discovery that comes with the initial excitement of such an intense release is an interview the band did with European magazine Rock Sound last month. “Since we released our last album the idea of the band has really been laid to rest,” Lacey admitted, “it is dead now.” The point being–coupled with the fact that the band does little-to-no American press availability—that this record wasn’t made with a theme in mind; no expectations to meet; who really cares if it’s heralded or spit on? It was just a project, just a sound, just something I love to blast in my ears as I pound the sidewalk late at night headed into Chicago for a solo adventure…it’s my new favorite weapon (aw, shucks).
Contributed to by: Ryan Carroll
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