Review Summary: Music that lives by its own rules
Boston-born, now Los Angeles-based smartalecks Dead Poet Society continue to explore the elusive space at the intersection of vulnerability and aggression. They walk the very edge of sanity, where the members’ academic training clashes with the madness of stoner rock and metal – not least through the use of a remarkable instrument and accidental invention by the band: a fretless seven-string guitar capable of producing unusual microtones and unpredictable intonations. Thus, randomness became a striking feature of the band’s sound.
Having navigated the growing pains of their second album,
Fission, frontman Jack Underkofler, guitarist Jack Collins, bassist Dylan Brenner, and drummer Will Goodroad continue to look deeply inward. Inspired by personal experiences – heartbreak, betrayal, and a burning thirst to find answers to nagging questions – Dead Poet Society channels these raw emotions into a dangerous and frantic sound born from creative friction. As a result,
Monarch exists at a point that combines abrasiveness and melody, chaos and tranquility, all bridged by a luxurious, sprawling scale.
The album harbors no obvious stadium ambitions and eschews the garage-rock frenzy of the past. Instead, it opts for something frighteningly beautiful, heavy, and deeply personal.
Monarch rumbles with a sinister, ugly aesthetic, tearing masks from faces in search of healing. The music lives by its own rules, plunging listeners into a whimsical auteur world where dirty riffs, electronic textures, and massive melodies collide in the most unexpected ways, sounding both alluring and deeply unsettling.
From the very first seconds, the track
Hollywood on Fire proves the band’s ability to ratchet up tension with a springy bass and eerie guitars that break into an unpredictable gallop. Underkofler’s distorted vocal delivery adds an extra layer of tension before the composition explodes into one of the most uncompromising riffs on the record. Here, the band chooses to dispense with obvious guarantees like intrusive hooks, making the atmosphere itself the main center of attraction and gripping the listener in a death grip without cheap tricks.
Tracks like
Die If You Don’t maintain this powerful momentum, while
Roach and
Cold turn into genuine catharsis, where raw human essence takes precedence over studio polish, and social decay is rhymed with the grotesque of unhealthy relationships. In the middle of the record, the track
Lost offers a welcome change of pace: more vulnerable and intimate, it gives the vocals extra breathing room, gradually swelling to a massive climax.
Underkofler’s insecure, trembling vocals surrounded by reverb create a constant sense of panic and fragility. It feels as though this magnificent mechanism is on the verge of total collapse every second, yet it never lets up on infectiously bouncy tracks like
Sinner Systems, whose grooving rhythm conceals a hidden darkness. The team proves they are capable of crafting a memorable hook without losing their signature eccentricity.
Miami for the Weekend takes a more straightforward path, combining a ringing guitar with the resentment that permeates the entire album. Even unexpected numbers like
Psalm 136 transform a mournful hymn about childhood trauma and the loss of a mother into a heartbreaking howl of damned souls. In the finale, the album gives way to the restrained, enveloping track
The Art of Suffering, allowing the sinister atmosphere to dissolve into the created space rather than chasing a final burst of energy.
Monarch sounds like a work documenting the full spectrum of lived emotions, where the need to vent anger, sadness, and pent-up rage is driven by genuine necessity rather than genre conventions. The album feels honest, uncompromising, and stylish all at once, steering clear of nostalgic cloying sweetness. Even if the musicians were dogged by unpleasant experiences along the way, they have succeeded in creating a dark and beautiful world that brilliantly showcases the unpredictability, composure, melody, and creative courage of its creators.
