Review Summary: Almost a classic.
One of the best things about Sinai Vessel’s Brokenlegged is that the album art is unusually evocative of the music within. Is that really a good thing? Hard to say. It might come across as a bit of a backhanded compliment, but that may be appropriate considering that this is an album with some great highs and frustrating lows.
Okay, how’s this for a backhanded compliment: the best lyrical moment of Brokenlegged, a record that desperately wants you to be impressed with its lyrics, is in the first thirty seconds of its (brief) runtime: “Here I stand, like a tree, nervous on the edge of a clearing, limbs afraid to be cut looseleaf.” This image is filled with possibility, and delivers on the promise of its rustic indie rock aesthetic, probably better than any band since dearly-missed Japanese emo legends Bloodthirsty Butchers ended.
“Looseleaf” is one of the best songs on the album, with some solid lyrics amidst the song’s overall verbosity. Probably more importantly, great instrumentation buoyed by Caleb Cordes’s skilled guitar playing. As much as Cordes probably wants to be acclaimed for his lyricism, it’s his instrumental and compositional skill that’s the real highlight, and offers to album’s most endearing moments. The man can play a mean guitar: not in a showy, guitar-store shredder kind of way, rather an integration of various styles that might fit under the Emo umbrella while eschewing all of the excesses and cliches of the genre.
“Ramekin” and “Laughlin” are near as good as the opening track, offering plenty of satisfying moments on their own, particularly some great drumming on the former. Sinai Vessel works remarkably well as a post-emo power trio, and Brokenlegged exhibits vibrant attention to instrumental detail that's usually a bit lacking in their later, more stripped-down indie-folk style. Cordes’ tendency toward arpeggiated playing and earthy melodies adds a lot of dimension to Sinai Vessel’s music and effectively makes this power trio sound like a much bigger band (though there are some guitar overdubs, on occasion.) All you can really criticize about these songs is that lyrically, they can at times seem overwritten and trying too hard, but in fairness it’s hard to attain emo legitimacy without a willingness to go overboard. There's some college freshman-level attempts at being clever (rhyming “idol” with “idyll”? Really?) but it's quite forgivable when the music is this good.
“Down With The Hull” is perhaps even better than the preceding tracks; the terrific instrumentation is matched with lyrics that don’t feel strained or overwritten, a dynamic, punchy song that makes the listener wish a lot more indie rock sounded like this. Sinai Vessel plays with attitude and confidence, which is more than can be said for a lot of indie bands still hung up on mid-2000s irony and detachment. This group makes the case that it’s better to push to hard and fall on your face than not try at all.
And perhaps that's what happens with the album’s centerpiece and most problem-ridden track, “Dogs.” There are several great instrumental passages that could’ve come straight out of Kouya ni Okeru Bloodthirsty Butchers, and the same strong sense of melody that made the preceding songs solid and memorable. But the lyrics drag down what should be the album's centerpiece; it’s hampered by an air of smug condescension and cliche assumptions of the attitudes of people whom our enlightened narrator judges as loathsome bumpkins, and masks its Buzzfeed-level commentary and straw-man whacking in an air of literary superiority. Particularly the cringe-inducing, overwritten line “let not the trodden tread the apse’s light in mire…” Cordes’ writing often tends to drag the songs down with verbosity, but the added dose of moral superiority straight out of late-2000s New Atheist rhetoric feels particularly cringeworthy.
Fortunately, “Birth Blood” gets things back on track, bolstered by an exceptionally strong verse and a return to what Cordes does best lyrically, exploring the intricacies of complication-fraught interpersonal relations, and manages to mostly avoid overwrought passages. Too bad it’s the last memorable cut on an already-short record. The acoustic “Died On My Birthday” is rather boring, and lacks the dynamic energy of the full band tracks to make the listener overlook the overly-dramatic lyrics. At least “Dogs” has positive aspects that overcome its flaws.
“Cork of Worry” is the closest we get to a woe-is-me emo song, which wouldn’t be so bad if not for Cordes’ theatrical writing, which is rife with the notion that our narrator’s thoughts are gravely important and demanding our attention. At least most classic emo bands sort of understand that their angst is a bit silly and avoid sounding entitled. Together with "Died on my Birthday," it brings Brokenlegged to a groaning end; unfortunate for an album with such a strong start.
In this reviewer’s opinion, Brokenlegged is the most frustrating record of 2017. Its first six tracks are some of the best indie rock cuts of the year, with brilliantly-constructed songs and instrumentation, but the lyrical issues that pop up throughout, and an underwhelming pair of tracks at the end, make it a mixed bag that doesn’t quite live up to its potential. For fans of the genre Brokenlegged should be considered something of an underrated gem of fourth-wave emo, but it’s hard not to feel disappointed by how it all ends up, wondering if a little more restraint and humility might've resulted in an all-time classic.
