IN REVIEW: Brand New - "Science Fiction"

It's a little bewildering to me that Brand New is still commonly referred to as an emo band; while the tag can't be disputed on their early material, by the time they'd signed with a major (just over a decade ago) they were forging their own, defiant path. With 2006's The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me, they created a dense and combustible soundtrack that held only faint echoes of their past; it's a darkened, haunted classic, and now sits solidly in my top five records of the century.

Their fourth album (2009's Daisy) was a victim of circumstance more than anything, bearing the unenviable burden of following up such a dizzying masterwork; its reliance on uglier, grittier tones combined with a less consistent batch of songs made it feel like a worse album than it was, and I feel like it's destined to go down in history as the band's most overlooked work.

Why it has taken so long to figure out what comes next (and, if the cryptic messages are to be believed, last) is up for debate, but all points are moot; after eight long years and periodic false starts (fans' anticipations rose in 2015, and again last year, with the release of one-off singles Mene and I Am a Nightmare, neither of which made the cut for Science Fiction), within three days the album was suddenly and without fanfare made available for pre-order, announced and released (for all intents and purposes; while physical product doesn't ship until October, as I type I'm listening to the free download obtained from the band as a bonus for pre-ordering). It really doesn't matter why it took eight years, the facts say it's here now.

Considering the time elapsed between their fourth and fifth albums is equal to the time elapsed between their first and fourth, it's perhaps not all that unreasonable to expect some changes; true enough, Science Fiction does pull the band's sound in some interesting new directions. While there's no doubt that these are the same fiery rockers we've come to know and love, there's a noted shift toward acoustic instrumentation, as well as the rain-soaked grungy alternative of the '90s. It's there in the swirling guitar on opener Lit Me Up, and the propulsive acoustic-backed Can't Get It Out; Waste seems to pay homage to Jar of Flies-era Alice in Chains, while No Control owes at least a passing nod to both Weezer and Eels.

Elsewhere, there's a heavy reliance on bluesy groove; it's always been lurking, just as it lurks here on Same Logic/Teeth and 137, but on the album's second half there are much less subtle nods to the blues; In the Water features both organ and harmonica, while 451 drips with swagger and makes for one of the album's most unexpectedly amazing moments (especially when that exploding chorus shows up). Then, there's Desert; under perhaps the album's most biting social commentary, there's a sparse and lazy guitar that gradually gets enveloped in a groove the likes of which most would never dream could come from this band until now.

Even still, with all the directions the songs go, there's a stark familiarity throughout that pulls into focus just how unique this band became among a tidal wave of like-minded, spiky emo bands in the early aughts. With two careful steps away from the horde, they created their own identity that will undoubtedly outlive most, if not all, other bands of their lineage. Here, perhaps at the end of their journey, they're still not content to do what's expected; rather than sputter out or take a victory lap, they've created a restless, darkly dynamic record that builds upon their legacy and offers deep rewards for fans willing to take a deep dive into it.

August 17, 2017 • Procrastinate! Music Traitors
Highlights Waste • Same Logic/Teeth • Desert