The notion that “human beings don’t change” has gained prevalence in modern society. We’ve all heard variations of it before – he’s stuck in his ways, or the famous once a cheater, always a cheater – and while some people show it more than others, I can guarantee you that we all do evolve. It’s not something you can necessarily witness all at once. Every day, we absorb different stimuli, we’re faced with new decisions, and our character is ever so slightly altered until they all resonate as something noticeable. It’s why your best friend is less likely to notice small changes occurring in you than someone who sees you once per year, such as a distant relative. People like that are subject to brief windows of observation, because they have no frame of reference other than your previous, dated encounter.

If music was life and Brand New were a person, we’d all be distant cousins. We saw them at Your Favorite Weapon in 2001, and they were very much a product of their peer groups, albeit outshining the likes of Taking Back Sunday and other pop-punk groups of that era. Then came Deja Entendu in 2003, and we all marveled at how much the band had matured. The same reaction followed suit, perhaps double fold, upon the release of 2006’s The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me, an epic transformation with overarching spiritual and existential themes. Once again, we transport ourselves years forward to 2009. Daisy was a massive shift in Brand New’s personality. The deep, complex thoughts that were once carefully etched onto paper then intricately woven into songs were replaced by pure and brazen rage. It was in your face all the time, and showed no remorse about leaving behind the Brand New that everyone grew to adore. And like any seemingly sudden change, it alienated quite a few people. However, it’s not as if Brand New up and completely overhauled their identity overnight. We were simply the listeners of a finite, encapsulated time span. Only the members of the band know the exact sequence of events that led to that bizarre and jarring change of direction.

I didn’t always know it, but that’s one of the things I love most about Brand New – and Daisy in particular. They’re concrete musical evidence that change occurs in us daily. Each of the band’s albums so far proved that, even if we can’t see the little events that occurred in between to spark such change. That’s okay, though, because the sum of the parts of the band’s evolution leading up to Daisy shows us that even the most peculiar and seemingly bleak revolutions can be full of hope. Throw aside the subject matter for a minute – because no matter how much Jesse Lacey screams about burning forests and being dragged to hell – there’s an intrinsic level of optimism that emanates from the band’s indulgence in their free will to explore all styles of music. Daisy may be the bastard child of their discography, but it’s the most daring of the bunch. It is music that’s truly alive, because it’s overstepping its boundaries and making waves where it has never even caused a ripple before. Daisy refuses complacency and rears its bold, abrasive, and at times ugly head towards revolution. It’s risky for sure. Even reckless, perhaps. But most of all, it’s fucking inspiring.