For two years now, I’ve been trying to write a review for No Place. But for some reason, I could never put into words what it meant to me without ‘fanboying’. The awe I felt when first hearing
In Trances and the way Cory Lockwood invited me into his home; “If the eyes are the window to the soul/why do you only feel alive when they are closed?” The way it quickly devolves and that bass line in
No Nature pulls me into the house. The way “They say like father like son/Is that the reason every time a person loves me/I find it hard to love them back” in
No Nuture feels like it’s surrounding you in the room, like there’s no way out. The whistle in
Next to Ungodliness, the orchestral of
Hand over Mouth, Over and Over, the spoken word of
Recluse. Everything drags you in, and the way
Shaking of the Frame finally spits you out after 46 minutes feels so… see? And this is just the introduction.
There’s just so much to talk about. Do I start with the incredible drum patterns of Joseph Arrington and how his erratic but measured style is so refreshing? Or perhaps with how Cory Lockwood paints his words into a perfect picture in your head? Or even just how every tambourine and bell keeping beat seems so needed? So refined? So… perfect? Everything just comes together so seamlessly; nothing feels out of place or forced. It gets to a point where if someone took out even the smallest thing, you would notice. All of it forms a bond of sorts; something that can’t be broken. A perfect example of this is in
Connector; if it weren’t for the subtle piano and drum beat, Kurt’s vocals wouldn’t have such a sense of the calm before the storm. It wouldn’t give “At the rate the paint is peeling off the wall/We’ll need to cover it!” the same effect; it’s sudden and sincere delivery after such a build-up punches hard. The six-minute song is full of complex drum beats, fast and intricate guitars and a varied bass line. The guitars, courtesy of Michael Franzino and Ben Wiacek, drive the album an extraordinary amount; the way they fade in and out in
Myth of Lasting Sympathy and
Hand over Mouth, Over and Over, or how their erratic sound on
Recluse displays insecurity and a head swimming. And how the bass line from Michael Littlefield isn’t just straight-forward, but purposeful, providing a backbone for
Kuroi Ledge.
And it’s all backup for Cory Lockwood and Kurt Travis. Their vocal performances and lyrical prowess are what makes No Place feel both homely and foreign at the same time. Cory’s ability to create such a vivid image in every song is unrivalled. His emotion in lines like “I guess I finally had the courage to go away/The promises we made were made hollowly/Sometimes you’d reassure me we’d be okay/But you’d always leave” from
Kuroi Ledge is both powerful and engaging. It easily drags you in and works so perfectly in conjunction with the backing of Kurt. But Kurt is no backing vocalist for the album. Although his vocal range is much the same as it was on
Dance Gavin Dance’s self-titled, here it has far more ‘reach’. His soaring vocals on the wind-down of
Recluse and his heartfelt delivery on the concluding
Shaking of the Frame coincides so well with Cory’s spoken word and the rest of the band.
And that’s what makes this album so incredible. Everything just ebbs and flows so easily. The chemistry of the band is so electric throughout the album and provides such an intense and satisfying listen. Even now, two years after I started listening to No Place, it feels so refreshing and unmatched. The way it seemingly traps you in its grasp and doesn’t let go until you’ve felt everything. Even without the full listen, No Place has such great individual songs that if just a single song comes and goes, you’re reeled in so easily. Maybe that’s why No Place is so incredible.
