Review Summary: A solid rendition of an outstanding album
For the conservation of time, I have selected to review my favourite songs from the album. I may iterate that the rest of the songs are without a doubt worthy of listening to. So, without further ado, here's a review of Downtown Battle Mountain.
1. Untitled (0:48)
The track may lack a name for various reasons. It could represent a message from the bottle of the blue- its sender unknown. It could also be that the track is like the bastard child of the album and doesn't deserve a fitting name. Regardless, what matters is that it is an effective start to the album, as it beguiles the listener to take a listen. The song begins with static, like it is emanating from a latent memory or is a kind of recording- this latter theory fortified by the band's enthusiasm for robots. The acoustic guitar enters, playing a descending chord progression that sets the tone for the song. It is followed by the electric guitar ringing out single notes that sound lamentable, forlorn and hollow- a key ingredient in the making of this album and may serve as a SOS. The ringing notes merge into melancholic slides that sound like they're being played off of a lap guitar, and give the impression that time is being distorted. An eerie, robotic voice enters the fray and mutters incoherent phrases, further accentuating the albums relationship with robots. This very album could be the prototype model that would develop later into a fully fledged, functioning cyborg. There's the whine of feedback that progressively gets louder and louder, then the sound effect that sounds like an object travelling through space (the listener?), before a crescendo of clashing cymbals connecting to the next song.
2. And I Told Them I Created Times New Roman (4:48)
The transition is smooth and barely noticeable, though right away the listener is thrown within the midst of dynamic, driven guitars and furious, thunderous drums in the song's chorus. Here, the listener understands that the archetypal pillar of the band is post-hardcore, though they're in for a treat eventually when the styles coalesce and blend in the song to produce a specimen that is idiosyncratic, distinctive and unique. During the pre-verse, a memorising bass effect occurs, sounding like an object rebooting or coming to life (the robot?). Then there's the verse with its urgent tremolo and disjointed rhythm, that further adds to the cacophony and chaos. It then skips into a blithe, reggae-like verse that reveals that the band are in fact an amalgamation of multiple styles. We're launched into the palm-muted pre-chorus, where Mr Mess is let off his reigns and allowed to say 'hello' to the listener in a weird yet infectious voice. Another round of the chorus, and we're swept into the 2nd chorus that is melodious, and feels like we've wound up in a room with angels, or that perhaps the angels are stitching up a wound. The verse ends and the bridge begins, where the grave guitar offers some form of resolution or decision to be made, and the song culminates and lets loose on all fronts for one final plea, before ending in a generic, though well-executed breakdown.
3. 3. Lemon Meringue Tie (3:51)
The title accentuates the surreality and absurdity of the music. The track begins with what would be recognised as that iconic drum roll- the one that signifies the performance of one of the band's most celebrated songs. The intro begins with vibrant, funky guitars and a crispy bass riff. It is playful and pixie-like, and lulls any first-time listener into a sense of false security. Then the tremolo begins, and we're given the impression that something stirs and broods in the air and that 'something is not quite right'. There's the whine of feedback, followed by a dexterous riff that represents the versatility and finesse of guitarist Will Swan, before being complemented with arduous fills and bursts of double bass, in tandem with the bass guitar. The chorus whacks us in the face with its anthemic, head-rocking rhythms and lustrous leads. Post-chorus arrives, and we're given a chance to catch our breaths as harmonious guitars and integral drums keep the pace and the song flowing. Then we're propelled into a merciless breakdown, where one significant moment is where everything stops and the listener hears the empty universe yawning, before being assailed with more open notes. The bridge comes next, dazzling and disorientating, yet giving the listener time to recuperate their senses. The drums enter, and then that familiar riff, and once again we're subjugated into chorus' maelstrom. Toward the final bar, Matt Mingus- the drummer, drops an unforgettable drum fill that leaves the listener with their jaw agape, before the song slows toward its final stop, and we're herded into a final repetition of the breakdown as the brains are leaking out of the listener's ears.
4. Antlion (3:19)
The antlion is a species of insect known for the grim way it devours its prey. Digging a deep pit in the sand it slides itself in, leaving only its mandibles above the surface. When, say an ant, wanders near the pit, the antlion grabs its victim with its mandibles and injects enzymes, so that they can easily suck the mushy liquid from its unfortunate victim. This may represent some of the people the band members encountered in the past. The introduction consists of a teasing, lead guitar that sounds like its toying with the listener, and is followed by competent rhythm and bass. The intro ends into a sequence with more flourish from the leads, accompanied by the footfalls of the hollow toms. The verse occurs, and gives way to an eccentric conversation of both guitars- talking colloquial variations of the same language. The socialites finish and we're directed into the pre-chorus- the guitars here keep to a basic rhythm, but the drums are distinguished where instead of the crash of symbols or sequence of toms to end each bar, there is a burst of double/kick-bass that compliments the eccentricity and uniqueness of the music. The listener is guided to the chorus pertaining to simple rhythms and bass lines, though here the lead expels a pleasing series of slides that sound like Will is somehow manipulating time in the cosmos. We're thrown into a basic breakdown, where again nothing of significant occurs, only a stupefying drum fill- the breakdown continues and goes into the verse again. Then a variation of the chorus- dampened down and sounding like its coming from another room, giving the element and milieu of the elasticity of time. The chorus bursts back in in full swing, before giving way to a dual tremolo that signifies the urgency, before the listener (the ant?) is finally ensnared by the antlion.
5. Open Your Eyes and Look North (4:29)
The name of the song may be synonymous with 'being true/honest'. The opening begins with the clash of symbols, that sounds like someone opening their eyes. The first verse begins and we're delivered a riff that sounds like the unadulterated confession to a loved one. It is followed by guitar that contains heavy reverb that could represent the real eye-zation of something that could stunt or hinder the speaker's relationship. We're ushered into another verse that has lovely licks and held together by astonishing drum patterns that alternate after each bar and on the last ends with a groovy fill. We're taken into a 3rd sequence of the verse, with doting notes that sound like some sort of proposition or omission. Then there's the pre-chorus, and I'd always thoroughly enjoyed this part as it is, in my humble opinion, to be one of the highlights of Johnny's singing career- it is held up by a steady drum roll and more tremolo picking that builds up the intensity. Without warning, the listener is deposited in a near-overwhelming chorus that during the first part sounds like a fealty of love. The lead is heart-wrenching, accompanied by lamentable bass and rhythm. The 2nd part of the chorus has little variation, though serves as some sort of echo or reply. The next verse contains the lead that does protean scales up and down the fret board. There's a moments rest, whilst the drums keep beat, and again we're assailed with an impassioned chorus. The bridge contains frantic guitars that feel like the heart is over-spilling, and it also contains a series of unique and masterful drum fills. Eventually, we're escorted into the outro, that pails and wanes to represent a sort of contemplation or compromise, before the song lapses into utter incoherency.
6. 12 Hours, 350 Miles (1:23)
Just as the album begins with an acoustic song, it ends with one- giving it the feel of a rondo and allowing the experience to open and close meaningfully. The title could reflect the physical distance between the speaker and a loved one. The atmosphere feels like the ending of a beautiful dream. The first part contains sentimental guitar with an emotional chord-progression. It is pursued by a one-noted synth that eventually fades after some time. The flicks from the guitar sound like a fond farewell. The hammer-ons also represent the distortion and manipulation of time. The 2nd part consists of an intermission- a moments quiet that is representative of the poignancy of waking up and facing reality. Then the instruments come back for one final omission to never forget and to remember the lovely memory they now how imbued in them, before the song stops and the dream ends.
There is always apprehension when a band releases a rendition of a previous album. Sometimes it fails miserably and other times it's successful in bolstering the fan's love and appreciation for the original material, whilst giving them something new, refreshing and invigorating to listen to. In this instance, Dance Gavin Dance have delivered a sincere and satisfying rendition of Downtown Battle Mountain. Having the vocals removed dramatically alters the music- since the album placed particular emphasis on the vocals, it reveals the true musicality, creativity and ingenuity of the musicians of the band. Recommendation and recognition ought to go to the guitarist and drummer respectively- Will Swan and Matt Mingus. In this album, you notice every little nuance, flick and trill delivered by Will, that may not have been distinguishable with the vocals before and it can be derived here how prolific Will's songwriting skills are. I'd always appreciated Matt Mingus' drumming, though I didn't release how much of a mechanical beast he is on the kit. Both did a sterling job in creating something authentic and profound.
In life, there'd occasionally be aches or pangs- feelings of wanting to reminisce to the old days and to venture backward through my long-forgotten post-hardcore playlists where resided bands like DGD. When the symptoms diminished, I'd forget the foray and return to listening to the bands I now listen to, and forget the entire escapade. I've always held a private place in my heart for DBM, though I felt as if I'd grown out and away from the raw and powerful vocals, and that I liked music that was less dramatic. In essence, this album is an object I will conserve in my repertoire where I may occasionally and enjoyably indulge in DBM again. I may have strayed away from Dance Gavin Dance and even post-hardcore throughout the years, though now I am unashamed and unperturbed of venturing back to the re-release of this album from time to time, and for the moment being calmly and contentedly remembering and dreaming away within neoteny's chrysalis.
