Review Summary: Long live what will not last
Can we get on this ride again?
Just one more...
When Yellowcard amicably split following their self-titled LP in 2016, they truly believed it to be the end of the band.
Yellowcard was essentially a love letter to fans, summing up their twenty years together while using lyrics to offer a glimpse behind the curtain, often in an attempt to elucidate their decision. It painted a picture of band members growing older and prioritizing new things ("on these shelves I keep my family / In this bed I watch them fall asleep"), sensing their own gradual slide into "legacy band" status ("Play us a song I know / Make it an older one...Don't you get it?"), and finally admitting that, perhaps, there was no longer a spark worth rekindling ("You tell me there must be a little light left flickering burning in a place we set afire / But no one will listen if we just wait here to burn / We gotta swing away, gotta cut the wire"). By the time the
then career-capper "Fields & Fences" played, it was nearly impossible not to be affected by the song's overarching sense of finality and resolution: "I don't have much that I can give to you / But I know I love the way you make me feel like I'm at home / And I am not alone." It's a sentiment that would echo for years after the last note of their farewell tour rang out. What Yellowcard gave us was something beautiful and rare in the world of music: a finished story with a happy ending.
As their reunion illustrates, however, even the best-laid plans are no match for a burning passion. When Yellowcard agreed to perform a "one time only" full play-through of
Ocean Avenue in celebration of the landmark album's twentieth anniversary at Riot Fest in 2022, I think most people suspected – despite a lack of confirmation from the band – that the book on Yellowcard had been officially reopened. If you think about people who pour their heart and soul into the things they love – whether it's a teacher who goes the extra twenty miles every day, an athlete who keeps “unretiring" to return to the sport, or perhaps even just a music critic who can't seem to write his final review – it's never as simple as tying a bow on things and walking away. There's always this sense of having more to give, and wanting to use that drive to unite, engage, and inspire those around us. That's why when
Childhood Eyes was announced – with the band keenly adding "the next chapter begins" – I was excited but not entirely shocked. Yellowcard cares deeply about their craft, and the joy that it brings to their fans. They always have.
Give me all of you every time
Destroy me
You and me for the rest of this life
The future I see
Childhood Eyes is a revitalization of the band’s classic sound. It possesses the energy and tightness of albums like
Paper Walls and
Southern Air, marking the first time since Longineu Parsons' departure in 2014 that Yellowcard doesn't feel held back by a lack of firepower. A lot of this has to do with Nate Young (of fellow Equal Vision Records signee Anberlin) ratcheting up the pace, but it also appears that all the years off have afforded Yellowcard a chance to retool their approach. Whether it’s subtle electronic flourishes, faster vocal delivery, or just a whole lot more Ryan Mendez, they’ve learned how to better fill the space that used to be comprised of Parsons' dynamic drum fills. This is perhaps most evident on opener "Three Minutes More", which features a breakneck pace along with the intertwined vocals of Ryan Key and Pierce the Veil's Vic Fuentes. "Overgrown overpasses remain / Blow it up, burn it down, be the change" operates as a mission statement, demonstrating just how much energy Yellowcard still has left in the tank while making for a spirited, highly entertaining reintroduction to the band. The title track arrives on its heels like a summer breeze, anchored by an earworm chorus and pointedly clever verses: "If only I was the drug you did, stuck in a vein in your arm / Thеn maybe you would've stuck around, just like thе addict you are." Themes of pain and addiction, as well as Key's ability to effortlessly mold them into relationship metaphors, hark back to the band's earliest days, thus making the song title rather fitting. The lyrics speak to how life batters us into submission and how sometimes viewing things through "childhood eyes" simply means experiencing love and life to its fullest: "Am I the only one who isn't dead inside? / Maybe you're jaded, maybe you're blind / Am I the only one watching with childhood eyes?" It’s got the same
emotional-warmth-in-the-face-of-cynicism as a song like ‘Back Home’, only whereas that track suffered through unrequited love, "Childhood Eyes" boasts: "I am the love you need." It's the perfect way to kick off another Yellowcard renaissance: brimming with nostalgia, very much rooted in the present, and illustrative of the personal growth that occurred in-between.
If fans were looking for a reason to anticipate material beyond this
Childhood Eyes EP, then Key's sly nod toward the future on 'Hiding in the Light' should ignite a wave of optimism. The song seems to find the band in a place of happiness and acceptance, embracing one of the truest things they've known in their lives:
music: "Now I'll choose life and I'll get by / And sing until the day I die", Key belts out as part of a ridiculously infectious chorus, later adding: "You and me for the rest of this life / The future I see." Chugging, upbeat riffs culminate in Ryan Mendez's extended spotlight – a well-placed, soulful, and eloquent electric guitar solo – that is also paired with Sean Mackin's warmest and most prominent violin contribution. It's a vibrant and uplifting moment, and one of those tracks that seems to embody the spirit of the band perfectly. The penultimate "Honest From The Jump" somehow raises the stakes even higher, with energetic drum fills, gorgeous violin swells, quotably picturesque lyrics ("We were just distant stars / Cosmic colliding hearts"), and a slow build-up that sounds like a miniature version of the "Gifts and Curses" bridge. The chorus, which was lifted from Ryan Key's solo track "Brighton", is majestic, towering, and instantly memorable. Perhaps the most impactful part of the song is when Key sings, almost as an afterthought, "long live what will not last" – signifying this intense desire to make the most of a life that's transient. Our time on this Earth is incredibly short, so figure out
who or
what makes you happy and pursue it like there's no tomorrow. Or as Key sings it, “so quick some suns will burn.” Maybe that's the realization that brought us a Yellowcard reunion in the first place.
I want to show you
The ways that I've grown
I want you to show me
The places we'll go
As things wind to a close on this brief five track EP, it already feels like
Childhood Eyes has far exceeded expectations. The acoustic curtain call, "The Places We'll Go", takes that notion and solidifies it. Yellowcard have written their fair share of poignant ballads, but this piece ranks somewhere near the most affecting of the bunch, with lyrics centered around change, embracing those who mean the most to you in life, and stepping bravely into the future. Dashboard Confessional's Chris Carrabba contributes backing vocals to form a dynamic and very natural harmony with Key, and the melody whisks us off towards an uncertain but breathtaking horizon: "I want to show you the ways that I've grown / I want you to show me the places we'll go." For a group that was able to go out on their own terms in 2017 bearing no regrets, the decision to re-enter the music scene is undoubtedly a risk to their legacy. However, their passion for music and life in general has made it clear that it's not only a chance worth taking, but really the only choice to make. When you have this much to give,
this much fire inside, it seems a sin to snuff it out prematurely. With
Childhood Eyes, Yellowcard’s flame is burning as brightly as ever. Long may it last.
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