Review Summary: "Lost inside a life of drifting out with all the waves."
Under-appreciated, underrated and under-the-radar: three areas where many bands linger in this time of an ever-expanding musical horizon. So many talents are heard that some - ones that may be better than others - are shuffled away rather unceremoniously in the process. Autopilot Off are one of those bands that deserved way more recognition than they ever got. Featuring a fantastic vocalist, electrifying instrumentals and a knack for crafting extraordinarily catchy choruses (as most prominently noticed in their amazing single
"Nothing Frequency"), they had all the right ingredients for the makings of a truly exceptional punk rock band.
Make a Sound marks the second album for them, and though it is where they closed out their musical escapades for quite sometime, two new songs suddenly surfaced to highlight their unexpected reunion in 2014 (
"Alcologic" and
"When I Was Young"). These tracks successfully proved to many long-time fans that Autopilot Off still have the same youthful, kinetic energy that made them a joy to listen to in the first place.
Looking back,
Make a Sound genuinely feels like one of those albums that should have been bigger. The first-two tracks in particular,
"Make a Sound" and
"Clockwork", are immediately gripping thanks to pulse-pounding drum-work from Phil Robinson and vocalist Chris Johnson's amazingly well-ranged, passion-filled deliveries.
"Clockwork" is easily the catchiest of the pair, listed on sports games such as
NHL 2004 and
SSX 3, the track features lyrics that instantly ingrain themselves into your head:
"You're probably sick of being tired / you can't find the strength to close your eyes / you can't let go, but you can't change everything / stop laying in this burning bed". Very reminiscent of Anberlin's epic opening to
Cities,
"Clockwork" is layered with youthful warmth that encapsulates the entire album's duration with incredible precision. It is fast-moving and eager to please.
Of all the songs listed throughout this gem, the one track that finally rises above the usual 3 minute mark is the beautiful tribute to post-9/11 New York City.
"The 12th Day" is an emotionally-charged and utterly inspiring song. Without being tasteless or pretentious, it's challenging to uncover this song for what it is at first listen. The lyrics are very subtle in depicting the tragic events that took place that day, taking note of the humanity on-display with such lines as
"and our scars have made us stronger / turning strangers into brothers" and a commendable moment of silence, paying respect to the lives that were forever damaged and lost on that day, taken before the final chorus marches forward. Thankfully the song isn't heavy-handed, there are no politics or hidden agendas sprinkled throughout, it is simply meant to be a hopeful analysis on how tragedies as massive as that can never completely break us, they can only bring us closer together in the fight against unrelenting terror.
Alike the first-two tracks on the record, the final-two that close out the record are equally gripping throughout.
"Byron Black" is about a homeless man who
"carried his life strapped to his back", a brilliant song that tells the life-story of a homeless person who sleeps
"on a sidewalk in Houston" (to which
"he calls home"). The lyrics are very blunt and on-point throughout,
"the faces of people he would see / they were colder than any city street / and the days go on-and-on and they just walk by / he said: I'm disappearing / he said: I'm disappearing / you don't know what it's like to walk alone / you don't know and I hope you never will", leading into an empowering chorus that easily ranks high among the catchiest sections on the record. While the final track may not be as strong as
"Byron Black",
"The Cicada's Song" is a very haunting and engaging track all the same. Closing the album out in a powerful fashion, it features ferocious drumming and the eerie sound of a rattle snake hissing in your ears as the song finishes.
Make a Sound is constantly excellent and full of suppressed rage that pulsates throughout the tracks. While the lyrics hardly display this emotion, the vocalist and the sheer volume that the instrumentals reach expose this notion quite well. A song like
"Blessed by a Nightmare" is riddled with anxiety and a need to break free, while
"I Know You're Waiting" and
"Divine Intervention" provide much needed breaks away from the heavier tracks. Even though some tracks don't really shine as brightly as they could have because of this level of emotional performing, most notably
"Chromatic Fades" and
"Blind Truth" (which is easily the worst song on the record, featuring an annoyingly loud chorus that perfectly derails the forward momentum provided by the opening tracks), the album is still thoroughly enjoyable and engrossing all-around. Thanks to the overall spirit imprinted throughout, the replay value is extremely high on this record. It deserves to be heard.
