Brand New

Your Favorite Weapon

[Triple Crow; 2001]

I remember when I was a kid I had the ability to jump off of ledges, cars, and flights of stairs, land any which way, and pop back up, tousled, bruised, laughing.  I’m not an old geezer or anything but I don’t jump off stuff anymore because just the thought of it makes me kind of tired.

Listening to this album brings about the same feeling of youth, reckless abandon, the acceptance and even enjoyment of the scrapes and bruises of life.  And it delivers track after track of it, a torrent of joyful angst.  You’ll be hard pressed to find one second of silence on the whole record, as the final chord of one song leads into the fast picking intro of the next.  The production values of this record are not high.  It’s loose, dirty, off the cuff.  But trust me, you wouldn’t want it any other way (witness the far less enjoyable Brand New hi-fi follow-ups.  These guys sound like the guys who played at your high school Battle of the Bands.  But you loved those guys.

Have you ever been so excited to get somewhere that you can’t help but breaking into a run?  That’s the pace most of these songs.  They seem to almost trip over themselves in a rush to get to the next chorus, harmony, or any old chance to make noise.  You are in serious sing-along territory with this record.  Go with it.

What separates the conventional chords, riffs, and lead guitar from the glut of pop-punk bands is songwriter Jesse Lacey’s inspired lyrics.  These are the kind of things I never knew I wanted to say in high school, but I should have.  Consider the following from the epic Seventy Times Seven:

Is that what you call tact?

You’re as subtle as a brick in the small of my back

So let’s end this call and end this conversation

And is that what you call a getaway?

Tell me what you got away with…

Cause you left the frays from the ties you severed

when you say “best friends” means friends forever.

Is that what you call a getaway?

Tell me what you got away with…

Cause I’ve seen more spine on jellyfish,

I’ve seen more guts on eleven-year-old kids.

Have another drink and drive yourself home,

I hope there’s ice on all the roads.

And you can think of me when you forget your seatbelt,

then when your head goes through the windshield.

Yes, he’s talking about wishing his best friend would die in a drunk driving accident.  But that’s how you really feel when your best friend hooks up with your high school girlfriend.  The fact that the sentiment is said so poetically, with such musical punch and authenticity, is what makes this album a must listen.  And these incredible lyrical passages drop out of nowhere every three minutes or so, making you say, “yes, that’s exactly what I meant to say.”

Make no mistake, this is a record made by 18 year old kids dealing with 18 year old problems.  Lust, mixtapes, your best friend sleeping with your girlfriend, procrastination, a general lack of direction.  But it is pulled off with such authenticity and sloppy skill that it’s impossible not to love it.  After all, you were 18 once.  And it felt like this.

Great songs, great lyrics, no throwaway tracks.  A Long Playing Maxi Groove record!

d(-_-)b

Patrick