My high school experience started off as a veritable maelstrom of inanity and social dis-grace, aided by the help of my trusty sidekick, "2 Preceding Years Of Enormous And Deforming Emotional Discomfort At The Mercy Of A Catholic School". It's pretty amazing how cloistered you become when trying unsuccessfully to gel with a classroom of tightly knit aggressors who've shared the same company (aside the odd yearly addition) since Kindergarten, and even worse, how long it takes to stand back up once the burden falls off your shoulders. Fortunately, by the time senior year rolled around, I was seemingly well-off and recovered, confident enough to pick up an internship for my art teacher, to befriend most of the people who piqued my interest, and even enough to be rejected by a small handful of lasses - in person, no less. I felt a false sense of security and knowing, like I went through the ropes early and somehow attained enough wisdom through it to carry a sense of superiority. It was a completely unconscious brand of smug douchebaggery.The summer before that year, my friends and I went on a semi-sprawling road trip, finding our way from New York to Boston, to the Adirondacks and back home to NY, then to Virginia, North Carolina, and all the way up to Chicago before ending the pilgrimage in Pennsylvania for a 15 lb burger challenge. Along the way, my friend Ryan (who we picked up in NC after a 3 year separation) introduced me to folk-punk and the riot-folk movements happening as we spoke. He was pretty passionate about the bunch, and having gained a desire for musical expansion the following year, I was eager to give this stuff a try, and promptly scoured the web for all the free tuneage I could find. Admittedly, I wasn't completely blown away on first rotation. Mischief Brew wouldn't make a whole lot of sense until I'd made my way through a Tom Waits phase a year later, This Bike Is A Pipe Bomb struck me as inoffensive dullardry (and still do), and Ghost Mice grated on my nerves; Defiance, Ohio and Evan Greer on the other hand, settled nicely with the rest of my aural diet, which at the time was primarily noise rock, pop- and post-punk.
Not so long after, the shroud of familiarity got pulled away, graduation happened, and the bottom fell out. The aforementioned armchair nihilism and cynical brand of security began to give way to the disillusionment inherent in no longer having the immediate future mapped out and realizing how little I actually knew. Y'know, the typical ascent into "adulthood" paired with all the confusion reserved for kids who don't have the desire to get pinned down by a colossal fortress of college-related debt and fear the confines of the standard American life. I was slogging my way through community college and accruing more and more sludge for the sticky pile of isolationism in the back of my skull, and pretty soon after, I ended up randomly pulling out Defiance, Ohio's debut again to see whether it held up from the previous year. Upon listening, the lyrics pretty much hit me like a train. It was funny, because I remembered most of them from listening to Share What Ya Got in high school, but it was as if all their meaning was totally lost on me until that moment. It was the first time I really, truly related to what I was hearing since picking up Rites Of Spring's eponymous in 10th grade.
Defiance, Ohio are a DIY, 6-piece from Columbus, Ohio, and play acoustic primarily, employing not only the instruments standard to any punk release, but also a stand-up bass, cello, and violin. They started off by releasing their records for free online and other tiny labels, but have since moved to No Idea in order to accumulate enough l00tz tokeep their back catalog in print for dorks like me to fawn over while staring lovingly at the turntable. If I didn't make it obvious enough through the extremely long-winded intro, Share What Ya Got (their first full-length release) is a huge favorite of mine for reasons sentimental, musical, and lyrical (ie "the gamut"). It's by far their rawest, least self-conscious album, sounding like it was recorded strictly for free basement shows and rallies, but that's probably why I like it so much more than anything else they'd go on to do. It's pretty clear that no one in the band is exactly the virtuoso, but it's really their vibes that sell it for me. That's not to say the songs on here aren't catchy as hell and sing-a-long-able - in fact, that's probably what they're best for - it's just that the hopefulness and positivity seething through the somewhat frustrated lyrics manifests in much more than just what they're saying.
The sparse, simple opener, "Hey Kathleen, Are You Hungry?" sets the tone of the entire album:
"Are you angry?Actually, writing them out, they seem kinda clunky. Sorry, it's a little difficult for me to imagine them without the melody and vocal strain's guidance. They're definitely more affective in action. Like something you'd sing around a campfire, almost. Lyrical concerns are probably the most inward leaning here, with lots of songs detailing feelings of entrapment in routine, desire to leave the ugly confinements we willingly affix ourselves to, and the alienation purported by a capitalist environment - stuff roiling in the pit of my stomach I couldn't quite articulate or put a name to. Unlike pretty much every release proceeding this one, there are none of those fantastic, anthemic songs that sound like they could be the highlight of the album before ending abruptly for no apparent reason. I don't know why this became a staple as their sound matured, but it's always a disappointing little present to unwrap whenever a new album comes out - like waiting with baited breath to rock out until the track's duration proves suitable.
Are you searching for a better life to lead?
Are you waiting?
Have you been waiting too long?
What holds us back and how to burn the bridges to a culture that taught us to hate and fear and live like cogs in a machine and not like lovers, friends, and kin?
How can you help but feel depressed?
Get up in the morning and get dressed
Look out the window through rush hour smog
Smoke and drink the world away 'cause what the politicians say won't answer any of my questions like...
Why am I angry?
What am I searching for?
Is there a better way to live?
Why am I hopeless?
Have I been waiting too long to strike back against this state of affairs?
If I had to list highlights, "Bikes And Bridges", "Response To Griot", "I'm Just Going To Leave" are probably my favorites, but there's not one bad song on here, or even any I skip over from time to time; it's an album I've taken in from first to last every time, uninterrupted, by some strange stroke of fate. This is of course, despite the fact that every track on here is permanently etched into my eardrums due to almost constant exposure; from that moment on the bus ride home from campus through the scream-a-longs in my friend's car and the late night/early morning bike rides around town with my headphones till now this has been one of my absolute favorite albums ever. It's just such an honest, simple kind of music, with everything sounding like a single take but somehow coalescing into something catchy, poppy, heartfelt, and without any ambitions beyond conveying a message. Give it a go?
If you suffered through this whole exhausting piece, you're a brave soul, since this might be the cheesiest mess I've penned since... actually never mind. I've written a shit-ton of godawful slop, so it's probably nowhere near a benchmark. Hopefully you'll never find most of it. If this actually made you wanna check this album out though, that's pretty much all I wanted to convey. These guys probably get a stronger reccomendation from me than almost anything I've posted here before if that means anything to you. Enjoy, and try to catch them live. I've only gotten to see them live twice, but the first time involved giving Theo a hug on stage, so needless to say, they're a good time.
Thank you for this!
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