Review Summary: The swan song of a band that never misses a beat
Twelve years ago, Anberlin released a promising debut, its veins running with pure, youthful energy.
Blueprints for the Black Market showcased a band that, despite its roughness around its pop-punk edges, had a geyser of potential that could be tapped within time. Things could have gone horribly wrong. Stephen Christian and Co. could easily have released the same album over and over again, barely reforming and revamping their sound with each release to the point of dull, shameless repetition. Things could have progressed in the right direction, and they could've become one of the top-tier pop-punk bands around, if you happen to believe in such a thing. Anberlin could have forever been one of those bands that the 15 year-old wannabe punk rockers blared through their headphones while shopping for a brand new pair of Vans, or they could have been, well, something greater.
The signs back then never hinted at what the band has become now. Over the eleven years they had toured, recorded, and released new material, Anberlin was always changing. A band whose roots could be traced back to pop-punk transitioned rather smoothly into an alternative rock band. The transition never halted, and the Floridians continued to evolve their sound into their own creation, culminating in the 2014 release of
Lowborn.
This seventh effort is different from most of their previous outings. The days of songs such as "Stationary Stationery," "Adelaide," and "Haight St." have now been left entirely behind in favor of the newfound style that Anberlin has developed. For the most part, they have strayed from the all-out, in-your-face approach that were prevalent on their previous LPs. Instead of heavy-hitting alt rock such as the type showcased on
Never Take Friendship Personal and, to an extent,
Vital, Anberlin has settled on the latter's electronically-induced sound to create one of their slowest albums yet.
There are no absolutely stellar instrumental performances to be found here; as a matter of fact, much of
Lowborn's runtime is filled to the brim with a more artificial backbone supporting its structure. Though overuse of synths and electronic beats can sink a lot of bands due to a lack of moderation or proper placement, Anberlin manages to once again pull it off, utilizing the synthesized effects often to support Stephen's versatile voice as well as the usual lyrical content that has been featured in many of their songs. Heartbreak, faith, hopelessness, and even a morsel of optimism can all be found in
Lowborn's duration.
Though the instrumentation in this album may be lacking, Stephen Christian manages to steal the spotlight for most of the album. Next to the electronics, his voice sounds as smooth as ever. That's not to say that he was the sole highlight of the album; on songs such as the fast-paced, slow-sung "Velvet Covered Brick" or the crushing, aggressive "Dissenter," Joseph Milligan manages to play some of the most driving riffs of his career, and the rhythm section does a lot of work to drive the song forward.
Lowborn's riddled with the typical Anberlin songwriting that their fans have loved for over a decade, managing to stay fresh without deviating too far off course.
Of course, as with any Anberlin album,
Lowborn flows like a river. "We Are Destroyer" kicks off the album with a punch, making apparent the electronically-driven sound that is abundant on the album before passing the baton to the slow-burning "Armageddon."
Lowborn's most intriguing quality is how it does not quite build up to a peak or drop down to a valley until the album is past the halfway point. After the very ethereal "Stranger Ways," "Velvet Covered Brick" drives the album's tempo back up, mimicking their 2010 release
Dark Is the Way, Light Is a Place in its up-and-down patterns, albeit much more effectively. Much like Anberlin's previous efforts,
Lowborn features a hard-hitting opener ("We Are Destroyer"), the soothing ballad ("Atonement"), a furious, frantic song located somewhere in the middle of the album ("Dissenter"), the emotionally-charged penultimate track ("Hearing Voices"), and a touching closer ("Harbinger"). There is no mistaking this for another band if you've listened to an Anberlin album before, yet
Lowborn is also a unique album.
If there is a negative, it's that some of the songs don't quite work the way they should. "Armageddon" takes a little while to finally build up into its climax, where Stephen cries out "I've started my, my own Armageddon," and "Birds of Prey" strives to be a melancholy, depressive song, and falls just short of what you'd expect it to achieve. Fans of previous album closers such as "*fin," "Miserable Visu," and "Depraved" will be disappointed to find that [i]Lowborn's{/I} closing track "Harbinger" strays from the band's history of epic, beautiful closers in favor of a sound that, for better or for worse, ends
Lowborn somewhat abruptly. Fans of
Blueprints for the Black Market and
Never Take Friendship Personal and their aggressive sounds may not appreciate the direction Anberlin took with their final record. Despite all this,
Lowborn's the culmination of eleven years of evolution for the band, and as an end to their discography, the promise that "We'll live forever" tells the fans that Anberlin may be finished as a band, but not as a memory. Their music still exists, and maybe that's enough. Godspeed, Anberlin.
