Review Summary: I was alone so I set a fire, and wasted it all on you
I don’t think I could ever replicate the unyielding sadness I felt when Manchester Orchestra’s “I Can Feel A Hot One” first clicked with me. It didn’t occur on the first listen, hell I don’t think it even resonated until at least the fifth or sixth time. When the track actually did, it was that type of extraordinary experience that surpasses the “I love this song statements;” past the deep-seating chill you get when you’ve heard something incredible. I was sucked in by its elegant melody, poignant vocals, and most formidably, poetic lyricism until the final verse had consumed me entirely. “I Can Feel A Hot One” is not even something I can relate to; it pertains to a situation that I have not come close to experiencing, yet I wouldn’t wish the circumstance upon my worst enemy. Whether the track refers to a car crash or a horrific breakup is open to interpretation, but the trauma and irrevocable pain inflicted by the loss of someone you expected to spend the rest of your life with, is not a bearable ordeal by any stretch of the imagination.
The blood was dry it was sober, the feeling of audible cracks.
And I could tell it was over, from the curtains that hung from your neck.
I realized then you were perfect, and my teeth ripping out of my head.
And it looked like a painting I once knew back when my thoughts weren’t tar leak intact.
So I prayed what I thought were angels, ended up being ambulances.
The lord showed my dreams of my daughter, she was crying inside your stomach.
And I felt love…again.
With the band’s debut
I’m Like A Virgin Losing A Child, it became overly apparent that Andy Hull was a tremendous songwriter, containing both the sincerity of the late Elliott Smith and the edge of Jesse Lacey. Hull is the type of front-man that is capable of charming your pants off and telling you to go *** yourself in the same sentence; often done in the most subtle of ways.
Mean Everything to Nothing is where we see Hull blossoming into a complete front-man, beyond the stretches of his lyrical genius and calming vocals. Upon listening, it’s easy to come to the realization that Hull has not lost that affectionate magnetism that so adamantly defined him in the past, but there’s a certain raw potency that was non-existent on the debut. His transition to a more mottled and energetic approach is what makes
Mean Everything to Nothing possible.
I’m Like A Virgin Losing A Child was quick to utilize a warm and melodic approach without an edge; therefore relying on pure songwriting to bear the weight. Manchester Orchestra has matured into a raucous fireball of unyielding emotion with their sophomore effort, without losing that charisma that boded so well for them on the debut. With that said, the record is littered with moments of sheer intensity, which flow flawlessly into the melodic sound that was so apparent previously. Gems “Shake it Out” and “Pride” are clear highlights in this regard; the latter a momentous track climaxing with explosive instrumentation and vocal outbursts.
Mean Everything to Nothing’s boisterous aura comes as a surprise from a band that to be frank, had exclusively tranquil material in the past. Everything from the band’s unreleased album
Nobody Sings Anymore, to their three EP’s, to the debut had utilized this melodic and almost bare-bones methodology, leaving
Mean Everything to Nothing as a figment of our wildest imagination. It is because of the record’s approach, that “I Can Feel A Hot One” has such a paralyzing effect; it’s buried within all of the clamor, yet it sticks out like a sore thumb. To say that the track is the greatest song Hull has ever written speaks wonders about his talents, for it represents something so deep-seated in sorrow that its chilling effect does not cease to exist. With all this said however, the album is cohesive as anything the band has ever produced; tracks like “Pride” and “In My Teeth” aren’t devoid of this consistency, and is something that does not expire until “Everything to Nothing” and “The River” deliver the final blow.
On a sentimental level, there isn’t much that can rival
Mean Everything to Nothing. It was the first indie album that I ever truly loved, and should be almost utterly credited to my continuing interest in the genre to this day. There is something irrevocably special about Manchester Orchestra’s sophomore release; I am reminded of this constantly when I hear the first line of “Tony the Tiger,” when the second chorus of “I Got Friends” explodes, or when Hull clamors, “You mean everything to nobody…but me.”
Mean Everything to Nothing is a record that defines its genre in its ability to reveal those issues so prevalent to us, whether they are portrayed in a vigorous or a heartrending fashion. Manchester Orchestra has developed from that charming group you once loved, and entered a louder and more poignant territory, which we can only be grateful for.
