Review Summary: I got a feeling that we're here to stay…
At this point, it’s become pastiche to open a Dance Gavin Dance review by mentioning the revolving door of musicians who have become the arteries supporting the beating heart at the core of the project. But the fact remains that turmoil has become inseparable from any conversation - artistic or otherwise - involving the Sacramento post hardcore act. The constant lineup changes have informed their work just as much (or more) as they have hindered the band’s long-term career prospects. While that lack of stability may have led many potential fans to dismiss the band as a ticking time bomb, it has forced them to reinvent themselves again and again, and for most of their career the story of Dance Gavin Dance has been one of pulling back from the brink of disaster.
That’s what makes
Instant Gratification such a milestone (dare I say turning point?) in the band’s discography. The album marks the first time the band has retained the same duo of vocalists - and a virtually unchanged lineup - between studio outings. But it’s more than just that. It’s the first time the band has managed to avoid all of the drama and internal strife that typically plagues the intervening period between their album releases, and has been able to fully focus on what’s most important:
the music. Specifically, the core trio of guitarist Will Swan, drummer Matthew Mingus, and vocalist Jon Mess have realized they no longer have to prove their relevancy by expanding further outward and drawing in new styles to go with new members. Instead, they turn their attention to streamlining their core sound, drawing from every era of their shockingly prolific career - from the emotional intensity of
Downtown Battle Mountain, the carefree funk of
Happiness, and the general wankery of
DBMII - and mix it into a giant melting pot that can only be described as a Dance Gavin Dance record.
Yet Sac-town’s finest have not sacrificed cohesiveness during this trip down the annals of their history. In fact, the band has great strides here towards streamlining their sound, trimming the fat and ensuring that none of the seemingly disparate sonic elements feel out of place. The pummeling heaviness of “Shark Dad”, the Funkadelic-inspired riffs of “Eagle vs. Crows”, and the surprisingly tight harmonies at the end of “On the Run” are tied together by returning veteran Kris Crummett’s on-point production, and all feel like they belong on the same album. Crummett’s production choices contrast sharply with those of Matt Malpass, who butchered singer Tilian Pearson’s vocals on his first outing with the band, the promising yet flawed
Acceptance Speech. Here, Pearson sounds less like a processed pop robot and more like the man whose soaring voice brought life to his former project Tides of Man. Instead of sounding shrill and overproduced, his souring highs on tracks like standout “Variation” can bring chills to even the most jaded listeners. Crummett simply knows how to produce this band better than anyone else could because he's done it the most, and it shows in the crisp guitars that sound equally poignant in the band’s heaviest moments and their poppiest hooks. Simply put, this is Dance Gavin Dance making a Dance Gavin Dance record, but doing it better and more consistently than ever before. Their newfound lineup stability has done wonders for their chemistry as a band, and if it sticks, the band can only go up from here. “Something New”, indeed.
