Review Summary: And the pattern of Loma Prieta offshoots being decidedly more awesome than Loma Prieta continues...
There’s been a definite disconnect lately between me and punk music-- well, to be fair, music in general. Still, it’s bands like the newly-formed Beau Navire that are making it nigh impossible to remain apathetic towards the sudden influx of new punk/hardcore/emo related music. Maybe it’s because the snow’s begun to melt and all that pent-up energy that was hibernating in the winter needs an outlet, or maybe it’s because I simply haven’t been paying too much attention to the scene, but hopefully names like Ghost Dance, Jowls, Hot Dudes, and in this case, Beau Navire are names you’ll hear more and more in the coming weeks as this batch of emo/screamo bands begins to pick up speed as the temperature begins to heighten (and inevitably dip again for those chilly spring days we all despise). Then again, I doubt weather was much of a factor in the decision-making of Beau Navire. They hail from the incessantly sunny San Francisco, after all. Consisting of members of Loma Prieta and I Wrote Haikus About Cannibalism In Your Yearbook, most will have high expectations for
Life Moves going in. I hesitate to call the conjoining of the highly-regarded emo groups a “supergroup” per se, simply because the practice of mish-mashing and blending groups together in the scene is an incredibly prevalent practice. Nevertheless, their first output,
Life Moves, is super-- the mix of already-similar sounds and ideas coagulates into an impressive jump-start of an album.
Admittedly, neither of the aforementioned bands have been too high on my list of must-hear emo bands, Beau Navire manages to smooth the edges of Loma Prieta and repair chinks in the armor. Nobody could have accused Loma Prieta of lacking energy, it was their deficit of control which I found off-putting. What could have been lightning-like riffs sort of drifted off towards obscurity because there was no congealing factor in the mix. Beau Navire changes up the formula by never losing track of themselves and retaining command over the situation. Passionate and frantic as it may be,
Life Moves is still realistic in its scope. Catchy, distinctive riffs are present in nearly every song, “Technicolor, Technicolor” and astounding closer “Fitting Pieces” being the most outstanding of which. In this process, the San Franciscans create a balance on
Life Moves that every hardcore band should take note of. The maturity of the album shines through in the consistency, but mostly in its precision. Beau Navire’s ability to propel the EP (LP?) forward while always being conscious of where they’re driving it is the most exceptional aspect.
Maybe I’m overanalyzing, though. In more simplistic terms,
Life Moves is a brief collection of songs that doesn’t quite floor with fervency, but in doing so remains focused and digestible, catchy even. If you’ve heard I Wrote Songs About Cannibalism In Your Yearbook or Loma Prieta before, you’re already familiar with the roaring, shrill, screaming techniques used, and
Life Moves is no exception with its stretched, desperate vocals, often overplayed by cymbal crashes like on album highlight, the impressively-barren “Whispers.” Short as it may be,
Life Moves is affecting in its entirety. It’s a somewhat monotonous release, with peak after peak rather than hills and valleys, but most will find this only adds to the consistency. Either way, the formation of Beau Navire is a move you’d be better off for not ignoring. It’s one whose ear-singing screams woke me up from my musical hibernation as of late; and oddly enough, a more suitable wake-up would have been difficult to find.
