Parachutes
And I Wont Stop Until You’ve Lost Everything You Ever Loved
Ok before we go any further lets run the usual EMO checklist.
- Long anguished album tile? Check.
- Long anguished song titles? Lets see ‘I Carve Your Name Into My Arms’… check.
- Arty, anguished, moody record sleeve? She appears to be bleeding black blood so yep, check.
- Screams? Check.
- Sensitive lighters in the air moments? Check and check again.
It’s all here. Which, for all of Parachutes energy and unbridled passion, is the thing that undermines their best efforts. It’s just all too perfect. Somewhere in the mid-west there are a gaggle of Vans wearing scientists, cloning bands from the very same DNA to perfectly fill the cookie cutter template (cheekbones and black eyelines) to perfectly soundtrack the angst of middle class suburban adolescence.
Opening in a burst of fury ‘Seven Feet From Where You Call It Safe’ and ‘Gentlemen Choose Your Weapons’ barely contain their fire and brimstone feel, working up a serious sweat before dropping gear slightly into the ‘slightly’ more reflective ‘The Fallen’.
There are many good tracks buried in the songlisting here including the serious mosh out of ‘Blood Over Port-ou-prince’ and the chug-a-long mid set weight of ‘Uncensored’, but the problem here is that the tracks are nothing I haven’t heard already today from Falloutboy, Finch, or a million other baggy trousered EMO kids.
A fine album don’t get me wrong, there is no faults to pick in the actual material – the hook heavy metal madness is indeed a step up from a number of outfits currently peddling similar currency. Where it falls down though is alarming copycat-ism ( if that’s even a word) and a desperate need for an original idea to prolong any relevance they have before the next wave of EMO kids taken them over.
Guest article from Ben M.
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