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have a confession to make. Emo frightens me. It's not the
pencil jeans, tight black t-shirts, or the Flock of Seagulls
bangs. In fact, I count many of the "emo" community
among my friends, and find these loosely connected
attributes to be more closely related to lifestyle choices than
trademarks of any particular music genre. Still, it's a lifestyle
I can do without, let alone keep up with. At the end of the
day, it's the lyrics that get to me. Even when listening alone,
I'm pervaded by a sense of skin-crawling guilt that's worse
than getting caught in the act by your mother "If you knew
I was dying, would it change you?" Andy Hull of Manchester
Orchestra wonders aloud. These are the kind of deranged fan
tasies that people play out in their minds but choose not to
say out loud—and that's just what Andy is for. It's a strange
sort of existential voyeurism, but just like reality television, we
can't help but peek our heads in to see the outcome.
If you've been there since the birth of this often misunder
stood genre, chances are you've heard the wealth of criticisms:
whiny, self-indulgent, overly dramatic, perverse. The rebuttal:
this music was not meant to be innocuous. If anything, it was
intended to make you feel slightly uncomfortable. To listen to
Manchester Orchestra is to amplify the most adolescent doubts
of one's subconscious through a projector, scrutinizing each
of these innermost thoughts until you're forced to rethink
whether you would really want to know what someone else
is thinking. So, what is life like in emo-vision? The author of
this feature counted the word "I" and its various contractions
153 times on their debut LP, Like o Virgin Losing a Child (not
including song titles, or the use of the words "me" or "my")
and determined that the only thing lonelier than a virgin los
ing a child is frontman Andy Hull himself.
To be fair—it's not all doom and gloom. Sure, Hull's lyr
ics might veer or. the macabre side with lines like "When my
father died, the worms ate out his eyes," but none of this is
meant to be taken literally. It's all an act of following through
with his what-if? character-driven scenarios, even if to tragic
conclusions. Few would accuse Shakespeare of being perverse
for the sake of the profound—why hate on Hull? Even when his
road-bound lyrics seem piecemeal, Hull drives it home at the
most critical moments—"If seeing is believing/ then believe
that we have lost our eyes," Hull warns us on the rollicking "I
Can Barely Breathe." The tune ends on a touching, and even
un-emo-like truth—"we all deserve something." Ah, there's the
"we" I've been looking for. The reaching-for-the-rafters "we."
The Bono-entrusted "we."
Dig deeper into the band's steady progression, and you'll
find that emo is only one color in the band's rock portrait.
Apart from obvious comparisons to Death Cab for Cutie, Like
a Virgin... is loaded with sonically charged guitar hooks remi
niscent of Coldplay, U2, or even post-rockers Explosions in the
Sky. And while Deathcab may hold the deed on whispery, key-
board-drowned headphone music, Manchester Orchestra is the
stadium-rock wrecking-ball wreaking havoc on their property.
No, they're not an orchestra, but the post-rock formula of soft-
loud, soft-loud, aims for the same epic heights. It can hardly
be considered an approach that's particularly original now that
we begin to enter the uncharted post post-rock era; it's just
that they do it so well. Even the most predictable moments of
catharsis feel like a swift kick in the face.
Shortly after completion of its follow up EP/DVD, Let My
Pride Be What's Left Behind, Manchester Orchestra teamed up
with Joe Chicarelli (The Shins, My Morning Jacket) to record
its upcoming full-length, Mean Everything to Nothing, between
Blackbird Studios in Nashville, TN and Tree Sounds Studios at
the band's homebase of Atlanta. Recalling Weezeris Pinkerton
as a sonic influence, drummer Jeremiah Edmond relates the
raw beauty captured on the album: "I love the immediacy of
it," he says. "It doesn't sound like it was toiled over." Cited
among one of the "Most Anticipated" records of 2009 by the
Alternative Press, Edmond reflects on the band's artistic vision
for the album: "We wanted to make a rock record." Simple
enough.
There's an authenticity to Edmond that exudes a no-non
sense work ethic that reassures my previous fears. No tears
here. Edmond continues with professional dynamism, recount
ing everything from the band's rigorous touring and recording
schedule, to the toils of budgeting logistics in light of rising
gas prices, which had forced several label-mates at Favorite
Gentlemen to rethink their touring schedules at the onset
of summer. It's the same kind of stick-to-it-ness that landed
Deathcab's critically lauded Plans (2003) at number-four on
Billboard, even with lyrics like "love is watching someone die."
Just like Grandpa used to sing. For flag-bearers of independent
music, Deathcab's unlikely commercial success was evidence
of a changing musical landscape—an inverted hierarchy where
the listening public would increase the chances of an album's
success by subverting dominant market forces via grassroots
efforts. Members of Manchester Orchestra see themselves car
rying the same torch, earning respect the old fashioned way-
one live show at a time.
Now that I've listened to a fair share of emo and have yet
to develop Histrionic Personality Disorder, I hope to catch
Manchester Orchestra's appearance at the 40 Watt so that I
may conquer my fears of unbridled emotion. Let's call it music
therapy. After all, "The unexamined life is not worth living,"
espoused the late, great Socrates, and perhaps that's what Hull
is getting at, too (surely, this is the reason he sports a philoso
pher's beard). In a grand shouting-match with his creator, Andy
ends the choir-filled "Where Have You Been?" on a lingering
note—"My God, where have you been?" Doubtful as he may be,
we know exactly where to find Manchester Orchestra on Dec 16.
Ryan Monahan
\
WHO: Manchester Orchestra/Dead Confederate,
Kevin Devine, Ail Get Out
WHERE: 40 Watt Club
WHEN: Tuesday, Dec. 16
HOW MUCH: $10
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