WEDNESDAY OCT 31, 2018
Blis
"Emo music has a knack for synonymy. Twinkly guitars, lyrics of heartbreak and friendships lost, the sing-shout choruses that invite audience participation; the DIY-scene is saturated in the same ideas and trends that feel overused and commonplace for a fifth of the acts who annually play FEST. It takes a distinct band to craft an exciting record that builds off of insecurities and anxiety in a way that feels relatable, exciting and explosive. And that’s truly what Atlanta’s Blis. has shown us on their debut LP, No One Loves You. Mixing emo with elements of shoegaze, indie rock, pop punk, and post-hardcore, Blis. has created a soundscape of the exciting bits of rock music without sticking to one subgenre too dearly. They’ve broadened their scope since debuting onto the scene with the fantastic four-track EP Starting Fires In My Parents House, crafting a balanced debut album that stands as an impressive feat and influenced by acts as Pedro the Lion and Nine Inch Nails. This isn’t so much an awesome emo album for 2017 as much it is an amazing Blis. record With the amount of silence Blis. has given between No One Loves You and Starting Fires In My Parents House, time was surely taken wisely. Structurally, every song on No One Loves You carries the weight of a number of styles that blend together effortlessly, although on paper, they shouldn’t. But somehow, vocalist Aaron Gossett fits perfectly just above the record’s hefty guitar work, grimy basslines and, at times, desolate atmospheres. Along with drummer Jimi Ingman, bassist Luke Jones and guitarist Josiah Smith, the group has completely managed to harness their instrumental ideas to the fullest. Take “Old Man,” the third single from No One Loves You. The song begins with a barrage of noise that feels grandiose, locked in a room full of echoing guitars and vocal “woos” in the background, flirting with the idea of shoegaze. Then “Old Man” tones down for Aaron Gossett’s softly sung vocals, “I was a servant and you were a king / I don’t deserve it, what you did to me.” The mood drops from its noisy ambience into a slow-churning, introspective performance from Blis., slightly reminding its listeners of older records by The Deftones, or a more grunge-influenced wave of emo. “Stale Smoke,” one of the album’s other singles, sees Gossett’s vocals gradually rise over heavily textured instrumentals and melodies, before eventually exploding into a chorus of see-saw of guitars and rhythmic grooves. The song is perhaps the most exciting on the record, pacing a build up of anticipation to get to its payoff, then never losing the listener’s attention when it arrives. It’s the meticulous planning of tension and release that gives No One Loves You such a balanced atmosphere of melancholy an
Nearly every song off No One Loves You deals with the rejection of an omnipotent higher power. Gossett became a father this summer with his long-time girlfriend, whose family is heavily Christian, which explains the record’s constant tug-of-war between emotions, internal struggle and religion. On the album’s opener, “Dumb,” Gossett explains how he’s been dumbed down from television, magazines, “And an old Book that my parents forced on me / That built the separation of what’s right and being happy.” Later, on “Lost Boy,” Gossett struggles with the birth of his son and the relationship dynamic between himself and his girlfriend’s family: “I don’t want to lose him to your God / I don’t want to lose my little boy to your God.” This shout of frustration later blossoms into self-assurance: “No one loves you like I do / No God loves you like I do.” It’s evident on multiple songs that for Gossett, God’s existence continually casts a shadow over the singer’s self-worth, feeling unjustified and thrust into his life. As vulnerable as Gossett sounds on No One Loves You, the album remains incredibly engaging and concise. Songs like “Christian Girls” and “Home” depict his girlfriend’s upbringing as a devout follower, criticizing blind faith and manipulation, while on “Ugly” and “Lost Boy,” Gossett yearns for acceptance of both himself and his new family dynamic. The constant push-and-pull of lyricism and instrumentals on No One Loves You gives the album an enthralling atmosphere for the listener to dissect. Desolate vocal lows and moody structures play keenly alongside skyrocketing guitar work and emo/indie-rock noise. This debut album is an impressive feat of control through carefully crafted traction, anxiety and payoff. It’s obvious that Sargent House has found one of their brightest, most promising acts." -Mass Appeal
"Emo music has a knack for synonymy. Twinkly guitars, lyrics of heartbreak and friendships lost, the sing-shout choruses that invite audience participation; the DIY-scene is saturated in the same ideas and trends that feel overused and commonplace for a fifth of the acts who annually play FEST. It takes a distinct band to craft an exciting record that builds off of insecurities and anxiety in a way that feels relatable, exciting and explosive. And that’s truly what Atlanta’s Blis. has shown us on their debut LP, No One Loves You. Mixing emo with elements of shoegaze, indie rock, pop punk, and post-hardcore, Blis. has created a soundscape of the exciting bits of rock music without sticking to one subgenre too dearly. They’ve broadened their scope since debuting onto the scene with the fantastic four-track EP Starting Fires In My Parents House, crafting a balanced debut album that stands as an impressive feat and influenced by acts as Pedro the Lion and Nine Inch Nails. This isn’t so much an awesome emo album for 2017 as much it is an amazing Blis. record With the amount of silence Blis. has given between No One Loves You and Starting Fires In My Parents House, time was surely taken wisely. Structurally, every song on No One Loves You carries the weight of a number of styles that blend together effortlessly, although on paper, they shouldn’t. But somehow, vocalist Aaron Gossett fits perfectly just above the record’s hefty guitar work, grimy basslines and, at times, desolate atmospheres. Along with drummer Jimi Ingman, bassist Luke Jones and guitarist Josiah Smith, the group has completely managed to harness their instrumental ideas to the fullest. Take “Old Man,” the third single from No One Loves You. The song begins with a barrage of noise that feels grandiose, locked in a room full of echoing guitars and vocal “woos” in the background, flirting with the idea of shoegaze. Then “Old Man” tones down for Aaron Gossett’s softly sung vocals, “I was a servant and you were a king / I don’t deserve it, what you did to me.” The mood drops from its noisy ambience into a slow-churning, introspective performance from Blis., slightly reminding its listeners of older records by The Deftones, or a more grunge-influenced wave of emo. “Stale Smoke,” one of the album’s other singles, sees Gossett’s vocals gradually rise over heavily textured instrumentals and melodies, before eventually exploding into a chorus of see-saw of guitars and rhythmic grooves. The song is perhaps the most exciting on the record, pacing a build up of anticipation to get to its payoff, then never losing the listener’s attention when it arrives. It’s the meticulous planning of tension and release that gives No One Loves You such a balanced atmosphere of melancholy an
Nearly every song off No One Loves You deals with the rejection of an omnipotent higher power. Gossett became a father this summer with his long-time girlfriend, whose family is heavily Christian, which explains the record’s constant tug-of-war between emotions, internal struggle and religion. On the album’s opener, “Dumb,” Gossett explains how he’s been dumbed down from television, magazines, “And an old Book that my parents forced on me / That built the separation of what’s right and being happy.” Later, on “Lost Boy,” Gossett struggles with the birth of his son and the relationship dynamic between himself and his girlfriend’s family: “I don’t want to lose him to your God / I don’t want to lose my little boy to your God.” This shout of frustration later blossoms into self-assurance: “No one loves you like I do / No God loves you like I do.” It’s evident on multiple songs that for Gossett, God’s existence continually casts a shadow over the singer’s self-worth, feeling unjustified and thrust into his life. As vulnerable as Gossett sounds on No One Loves You, the album remains incredibly engaging and concise. Songs like “Christian Girls” and “Home” depict his girlfriend’s upbringing as a devout follower, criticizing blind faith and manipulation, while on “Ugly” and “Lost Boy,” Gossett yearns for acceptance of both himself and his new family dynamic. The constant push-and-pull of lyricism and instrumentals on No One Loves You gives the album an enthralling atmosphere for the listener to dissect. Desolate vocal lows and moody structures play keenly alongside skyrocketing guitar work and emo/indie-rock noise. This debut album is an impressive feat of control through carefully crafted traction, anxiety and payoff. It’s obvious that Sargent House has found one of their brightest, most promising acts." -Mass Appeal
YOU
The new project from Gavin and Brian Caffrey Perez-Canto is a return to basics for the brothers. When they first started playing music, Brian played guitar because Gavin wanted to play drums, and YOU is a return to the familial formula, with each displaying their love for various forms of punk, classic emo, and indie rock while Brian’s jagged guitars and Gavin’s voice compete for primacy.
By Gavin’s count the brothers have been in four bands together, and YOU is in part an effort to stay connected even as he prepares to move to Philly at the end of the month. The seven diverse tracks off Yuh seem designed to catch the listener off guard as the brothers demonstrate their disparate songwriting, as well as a collaborative ease which comes with time and familiarity.
From his emotional drumming in Places to Hide to his agitated vocal stylings in Fishmonger, Gavin has demonstrated a variety of talents, most notably an ability to distill pro-labor, anti-cop, and anti-capitalist rhetoric into razor-sharp punk while fronting Fishmonger. Both his drumming and vocals are more varied on Yuh, but even though the music is more wide-ranging, Gavin still intones with relentless focus and energy. His social activism and push for systemic change within Atlanta and the country as a whole is key to his songwriting, but he engages with these topics with a frankness that is more exhilarating than academic.
On Yuh, Gavin is able to focus his thoughts into snippets of emotion that take the form of blurted musings and flashes of contemplation. Though the EP is fairly short, he covers a wide variety of topics, from metaphysical problems like the nature of the mind, to social ills like gentrification, to more humdrum matters like bad landlords and being broke. Each theme is distilled into its most basic elements, whether that be fear, joy, anger, or despondence, and nowhere is that more evident than in the unshackled rager, “Cops.” This isn’t the first track that he’s has addressed the police state in America, but it’s the most primal and instinctual. He relishes in his id with repeated lines of “I hate every cop, more and more every day,” and it’s a satisfying whirlwind of energy that tapers into the weary, deconstructed math rock of “Changes.” From there he dives into the details on “Happy,” an undercover almond milk commercial that serves as the emotional plateau of the album and the jumping off point for his perspectives on deeper matters.
Throughout the album, Brian’s meticulous guitar work acts as a foil to Gavin’s reflexive vocals, and even the heaviest bits course with an agility inherent to methodical songwriting. His detailed riffs also match a deep concern with the final product. He does, after all, run Studio 168 where the album was recorded and founded the Athens’ tape label Star Rats Records, which is releasing the album.
Gavin teamed up with Deborah Hudson of Art School Jocks for vocals on “Mind” and “New,” but Hudson’s production of “New” is the record’s crowning achievement. The minimal synth lines combined with Gavin’s detached vocals deftly communicates the reality of fading lives and identities in gentrifying neighborhoods. It’s hard to know whether the shift in sound is a one-off for the brothers, whose true love remains punk music, yet it’s further evidence that even with so many projects under their belt, neither shows signs of stagnation.
The new project from Gavin and Brian Caffrey Perez-Canto is a return to basics for the brothers. When they first started playing music, Brian played guitar because Gavin wanted to play drums, and YOU is a return to the familial formula, with each displaying their love for various forms of punk, classic emo, and indie rock while Brian’s jagged guitars and Gavin’s voice compete for primacy.
By Gavin’s count the brothers have been in four bands together, and YOU is in part an effort to stay connected even as he prepares to move to Philly at the end of the month. The seven diverse tracks off Yuh seem designed to catch the listener off guard as the brothers demonstrate their disparate songwriting, as well as a collaborative ease which comes with time and familiarity.
From his emotional drumming in Places to Hide to his agitated vocal stylings in Fishmonger, Gavin has demonstrated a variety of talents, most notably an ability to distill pro-labor, anti-cop, and anti-capitalist rhetoric into razor-sharp punk while fronting Fishmonger. Both his drumming and vocals are more varied on Yuh, but even though the music is more wide-ranging, Gavin still intones with relentless focus and energy. His social activism and push for systemic change within Atlanta and the country as a whole is key to his songwriting, but he engages with these topics with a frankness that is more exhilarating than academic.
On Yuh, Gavin is able to focus his thoughts into snippets of emotion that take the form of blurted musings and flashes of contemplation. Though the EP is fairly short, he covers a wide variety of topics, from metaphysical problems like the nature of the mind, to social ills like gentrification, to more humdrum matters like bad landlords and being broke. Each theme is distilled into its most basic elements, whether that be fear, joy, anger, or despondence, and nowhere is that more evident than in the unshackled rager, “Cops.” This isn’t the first track that he’s has addressed the police state in America, but it’s the most primal and instinctual. He relishes in his id with repeated lines of “I hate every cop, more and more every day,” and it’s a satisfying whirlwind of energy that tapers into the weary, deconstructed math rock of “Changes.” From there he dives into the details on “Happy,” an undercover almond milk commercial that serves as the emotional plateau of the album and the jumping off point for his perspectives on deeper matters.
Throughout the album, Brian’s meticulous guitar work acts as a foil to Gavin’s reflexive vocals, and even the heaviest bits course with an agility inherent to methodical songwriting. His detailed riffs also match a deep concern with the final product. He does, after all, run Studio 168 where the album was recorded and founded the Athens’ tape label Star Rats Records, which is releasing the album.
Gavin teamed up with Deborah Hudson of Art School Jocks for vocals on “Mind” and “New,” but Hudson’s production of “New” is the record’s crowning achievement. The minimal synth lines combined with Gavin’s detached vocals deftly communicates the reality of fading lives and identities in gentrifying neighborhoods. It’s hard to know whether the shift in sound is a one-off for the brothers, whose true love remains punk music, yet it’s further evidence that even with so many projects under their belt, neither shows signs of stagnation.
King Of Summer
"With their tongue-in-cheek songs and witty, self-deprecating lyrics, it would be easy to peg King of Summer as a group of four friends coming together to write music for kicks — and to some extent that’s true. But Tim Sterritt and company are also serious about their rock. Witness the the title of the group’s upcoming EP, Rock N Rollers From Hell, or the record’s cover art, which playfully recreates Queen’s 1974 sophomore offering, Queen II. While some might take these creative decisions as poking some good-natured fun at the sometimes bloated institution of rock, Sterritt insists their efforts are sincere. “Rock and roll is dope,” he tells me. “Respect to rock and roll.” Similar things can be said about the EP’s lead single “Angel,” which we’re excited to premiere today. The track opens as a quietly tense tune that eventually unfurls into a driving melodic anthem in the vein of Weezer or the Menzingers at their most poppy and direct. It’s a boisterous, infectious cut full of big guitars and even bigger hooks that should sound mighty fine blasting out of your car this summer. As for the lyrics, they’re a mix of dark humor and amusing revelations that initially led me to think the song might be mocking the longstanding tropes that have helped prop up the sex, drugs, and rock and roll ideal. (“I can snort a line of blow / While I’m drunk at the hospital / Contemplate losing my life / But that would suck so I think I won’t try,” Sterritt sings on the opening verse.) But according to the guitarist and vocalist, the song has far more personal origins. “I wrote this song at a time when I couldn’t stop thinking about death,” Sterritt reveals. “I moved to Decatur last August and I started spending a lot of my nights at shows and bars and being surrounded by drinking and drugs and just sort of wrote about what I saw friends of mine doing and how it made me feel.” Ultimately, “Angel” reveals a heavier, more aggressive side to King of Summer without sacrificing the melodic overtones the group displayed on their debut EP, Getting Stabbed With an Ice Cream Cone. It’s a good look for the band, one that feels considerably organic and sincere given their shared musical tastes. “I love pop shit but a lot of our common interest bands are on the heavier side,” Sterritt says. “Fu Manchu, Queens of the Stone Age, Melvins. Not to say these songs sound anything like those bands, but we definitely tried to take our sound in a less poppy direction I think.”" -Immersive Atlanta
"With their tongue-in-cheek songs and witty, self-deprecating lyrics, it would be easy to peg King of Summer as a group of four friends coming together to write music for kicks — and to some extent that’s true. But Tim Sterritt and company are also serious about their rock. Witness the the title of the group’s upcoming EP, Rock N Rollers From Hell, or the record’s cover art, which playfully recreates Queen’s 1974 sophomore offering, Queen II. While some might take these creative decisions as poking some good-natured fun at the sometimes bloated institution of rock, Sterritt insists their efforts are sincere. “Rock and roll is dope,” he tells me. “Respect to rock and roll.” Similar things can be said about the EP’s lead single “Angel,” which we’re excited to premiere today. The track opens as a quietly tense tune that eventually unfurls into a driving melodic anthem in the vein of Weezer or the Menzingers at their most poppy and direct. It’s a boisterous, infectious cut full of big guitars and even bigger hooks that should sound mighty fine blasting out of your car this summer. As for the lyrics, they’re a mix of dark humor and amusing revelations that initially led me to think the song might be mocking the longstanding tropes that have helped prop up the sex, drugs, and rock and roll ideal. (“I can snort a line of blow / While I’m drunk at the hospital / Contemplate losing my life / But that would suck so I think I won’t try,” Sterritt sings on the opening verse.) But according to the guitarist and vocalist, the song has far more personal origins. “I wrote this song at a time when I couldn’t stop thinking about death,” Sterritt reveals. “I moved to Decatur last August and I started spending a lot of my nights at shows and bars and being surrounded by drinking and drugs and just sort of wrote about what I saw friends of mine doing and how it made me feel.” Ultimately, “Angel” reveals a heavier, more aggressive side to King of Summer without sacrificing the melodic overtones the group displayed on their debut EP, Getting Stabbed With an Ice Cream Cone. It’s a good look for the band, one that feels considerably organic and sincere given their shared musical tastes. “I love pop shit but a lot of our common interest bands are on the heavier side,” Sterritt says. “Fu Manchu, Queens of the Stone Age, Melvins. Not to say these songs sound anything like those bands, but we definitely tried to take our sound in a less poppy direction I think.”" -Immersive Atlanta