August Burns Red Presents: Sleddin' Hill, A Holiday Album, Joe

I strive to be a genre chameleon. Doesn't always work out that way, like maybe I say that more in theory than in practice, but I am pretty confident that I could approach anything at this point. Especially if there is a weird-ass hook. Metal music? Sure, why not. Metal Christmas music? Oh fuck yeah.

This album did receive a pitch on the survey, from our loyal blogging pal Dave N., who had this to say about why people should listen to August Burns Red Presents: Sleddin' Hill, A Holiday Album:

"Heavy metal is often disregarded, primarily, due to the screaming. What gets overlooked, however, is the talent behind the music. This is an INSTRUMENTAL album with incredible musicianship. No screaming."

The funny thing is, I like the screaming now. Is that irony? That might be irony, that I'm at the point in my life that the very thing that attracts me to this genre is the same thing that my friend of many years is convinced will be the thing that turns me off from the music. Irony too that the album presented that might finally be the key to unlocking a Christmas album that sounds like Christmas but also interests me with the new (new to me, i.e. new in that I've never heard a heavy metal Christmas album before) is the same album that forgoes one of the basic tenets of that genre (i.e. the screaming).

So this ends up sounding precariously close to Trans Siberian Orchestra, is the thing. And that's funny. When I say something is "funny," music especially, then there comes attached to that the question of whether the artist is attempting to be funny. I guess it's not really possible to take Christmas music seriously. Why would you? Making a Christmas album is a fucking goof, for the metal band August Burns Red and for literally anyone else. I don't feel bad for laughing at how silly this is, because ABR fucking knows it.

And the best part about the album, and the funniest, and the part that partially undoes Dave's argument, is in the final song, "Joy to the World," a song that we all know every word to instinctually, and are ready to accept a metal instrumental version of said song at the end of this very long album full of metal instrumental versions of holiday classics, all of a sudden, we hear the lead singer of ABR crash into the proceedings, singing the lyrics to "Joy to the World" accurately but also in the most guttural, pigfucking, growly voice I've ever heard. Not really "ever," but just, like, it feels like it, because I wasn't prepared to hear the Cookie Monster voice! It was absent this whole time! And now all of a sudden it's here! It's very, very funny.

I just need to believe that it's funny on purpose. That this fucking dude knew that his voice at the tail-end of this album was going to feel out-of-nowhere, and preposterous, and I imagine he was doing his metal voice part in the studio with a great big grin on his face. I had a grin too. Because this is funny. It was a good album. I enjoyed it. It's the holiday season, I want joy, I find joy in laughter and humor, and maybe I don't really need much else other than that.

GRADE: 4 pukes out of 5

RC@5: Wild like Children by Tilly and the Wall

Record Club covered this album five years ago. Joe gave it another listen this week. Here are some thoughts.

Wild like Children

Tilly and the Wall

Week 88: October 4-10, 2020

First of all, the album is good. Better than you remember. Get over the twee of it all and sink into the catchiness, into the innocence of the sweet nostalgia of the thing. I think those nice calming feelings of nostalgia compound over time, and so this album has aged really well.

More importantly for our purposes today, this album and this week of Record Club, Week 88, was the start of the first big GIMMICK that we ever cooked up for this music club. Which I know is not everyone's cup of tea, but I enjoy this kind of thing, and I'm still holding the reins of this internet-only group hang, so you are at my mercy when it comes to dumb ways to choose albums.

Starting this week and stretching for six weeks, this is what I did. First, I picked out six friends who I had, over time, added to the Record Club Sunday email, but who had never (as of that moment) participated in Record Club. My goal was to entice each friend to finally participate by choosing albums that I knew for certain for albums that they already knew and loved and were important to them.

This first week's subject/muse was Dave. Spoiler alert: none of the six friends chosen for this gimmick wrote a review for the album that was chosen for them. That was to be expected. HOWEVER, four of the six have since written reviews for other albums. I mean, Record Club has existed for a full five years since these friends were first called out. It was bound to happen eventually.

Dave is the only friend out of the six who has written more than one review in those five years, though. Actually, let's count. I see seven reviews, including two for albums that Dave himself picked, and including one retroactive review for an album picked prior to this (The Black Parade). Which makes me realize that I've never forced Dave to go back and retroactively review Tilly and the Wall's Wild like Children. That feels like an oversight on my part.

Book it for sometime in the next five years or so. Dave is usually down for a good gimmick, and usually writes his review without complaint when I ask him to. I think that has something to do with him having a writing degree from university. The man spent a year in the trenches, writing newspaper columns about high school sports. Writing about music is cake after that.

But that's my opinion. If Dave shares that opinion, great. Clearly, not many other people do. Most people in my life balk at the idea of writing for fun. For those who like writing for fun, regardless of what dumb gimmicks I throw at ya—thanks for being here.

Valtari, Dave

When Puke on Your Birthday first approached me about writing a review for Sigur Rós, I was worried that I would regret a decision I made seventeen years ago.

When I left for London in 2008, I was in the heavy pop punk phase of my life. Four Year Strong and Set Your Goals were blowing up as bands like Taking Back Sunday and Brand New were cooling down. My iPod nano consisted mostly of catchy songs with "sick breakdowns." The timing of my study abroad program worked out well, as Four Year Strong and Set Your Goals opened for New Found Glory in London while I was there. Four Year Strong then headlined at a small club a few nights later, which I also attended. (The latter show is a top-five best night of my life)

When I first arrived at my dorm, I was greeted by a guy named Dave (separate from me), who immediately asked if I wanted to grab a pint. I said yes, and we went out. I spent the next four months with Dave. He and I are friends to this day.

My other two roommates were named Chris and Vaughn. We didn't see much of Vaughn, as he was a flamboyantly gay drug addict who somehow had his own set of friends all over Europe. Keep in mind, we were 20-year-old Temple students, so how this dude had similarly drug-addicted friends across the UK and Europe is beyond me. He was a mystery.

Chris seemed like a pretty uninteresting guy, though he's an important piece of the Sigur Rós story. He was pretty low-key and rarely seemed happy, but we had a similar taste in music. He leaned more heavily into the indie bands of the early 2000s, and introduced me to Dr. Dog. He was also a huge Philly sports fan. We probably had the most in common of the four of us, but our personalities past sports and music did not mesh. Oddly, his favorite band was Anberlin. I have no issues with Anberlin, but I'm pretty sure that's the only time I'll ever type that sentence.

Chris also loved Sigur Rós. He was obsessed. He brought them up nearly every time we hung out. I had never heard of them, and wasn't really interested in looking into them because they didn't have fun guitar hooks and the occasional scream. He played some of their stuff in our dorm, but it just wasn't my thing. While we were there, Sigur Rós toured and played a few shows in the UK. According to their website, they hit London on November 20th and 21st. He bought three or four tickets and gave one to me. It was a free show, so I figured, "why the hell not." But there was this guy named Ryan downstairs who nobody really liked. He took sarcasm to ungodly levels and became unbearable shortly into the four-month trip. Ryan was also a huge Sigur Rós fan. He got wind that we were going and begged for a ticket. I felt bad for him and gave him my ticket a few weeks before the show. His reaction was heartwarming. I seriously thought he was going to write all my papers for the rest of the semester. He was over the moon. Chris (and whoever else he gave tickets to) were pretty pissed at me, but I didn't care. I probably got drunk with Dave that night.

Another reason why I didn't attend the show was because I had my fill. Music was good to me while I was in London. A bunch of my favorites bands toured, and I saw all of them: Four Year Strong (twice), Set Your Goals, Tilly and the Wall, Enter Shikari, and Coheed and Cambria. So, even though it was free, I didn't feel a strong desire to see an introspective band I've never heard of. I instead gave it to a real fan. I did wonder, however, if I would come to hate my decision should I become a huge fan later in life.

Years later, I began listening to Iron & Wine, Bon Iver, and Radical Face. A band called Explosions in the Sky would often come on those Pandora stations, and I really liked them. Though instrumental, their music sounded a lot like what Chris played for me back in London. So, I refused to give Sigur Rós a chance for fear that I'd love them and regret giving up my ticket. Then I was asked for an album review on Sigur Rós, and I obliged.

Though this album came out well after 2008 (the portion of their catalogue I would've heard live), I'm relieved to say that I do not regret my decision to give up my ticket, BUT this album is really, really good. I love the Icelandic language and the epic song arcs. It's perfect for my long train rides into the city. However, it's not life changing. I would probably see them live, but I'm not going to search tour dates or learn the members' names.

Sunny Day Real Estate, Dave

Preceding the emo craze that captivated teenagers in the early 2000s, there was a less spoken of genre in the '90s that worked as the foundation for the emo scene.

Sunny Day Real Estate, along with bands like the Get Up Kids and the Promise Ring, produced a dirtier, less refined emo sound that was eventually labeled Midwest emo. Unlike their '90s emo counterparts, Sunny Day hails from Seattle. 

Midwest emo was originally a form of punk which then evolved/devolved into a sound trademarked by a mix of slightly distorted and clean guitars, slower tempos, and offbeat drum patterns. Midwest emo comes across as either passionate or boring. Though less refined, as previously stated, Sunny Day presents a more polished style of the genre. Maybe it's because I've only listened to the 2009 remastered version, I don't know.

LP2 opens with a track titled "Friday." It's a short track, but it's a microcosm of the entire album: a slow burn with a deep sense of fervor. The thing with Sunny is that you won't be particularly overpowered by their music, but you'll be drawn to Jeremy's vocals. There's a sense of urgency, like time on life is running out. Think Get Up Kids, sans the dash of sarcasm. 

After "Friday," each song followed the similar formula of peaceful verse followed by slightly heavy chorus. The fifth track, Waffle, caught me off guard with a very grunge-esque intro (it was the '90s, after all), before reverting back into Sunny's routine. I was drawn to the sixth track, aptly titled "8." It's one of only a few tracks that has a driving drumbeat and nifty guitar hooks.  

While solid, it's easy to float through the album. There's no filler but also no real killer (I miss Sum 41). Sunny still tours, but I'm not going to make the effort to see them, primarily because I don't feel like finding and paying a babysitter. 

With that, I will say that the album is definitely worth a listen.

The Black Parade, Dave

A pretentious trait of music fandom, especially prevalent in the punk scene, is abandoning bands upon "selling out." I hate it. It's gross. Sixteen-year-old me is guilty of it. I'm not going to relitigate the term "selling out," but The Black Parade is a prime example of a band selling out, and it worked out beautifully.

I remember the first time I heard My Chemical Romance. It was the fall of 2003 on John McCafferty's headphones in the Judge cafeteria somewhere in the 7:00 AM hour. The song was "Drowning Lessons." It's a fun and catchy tune, contrasted by lyrics about murdering a love interest, an element trademarked by the emo genre. What struck me, though, was the rawness of the song and the ensuing album, which I had a friend burn for me shortly thereafter. The album, I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love, sounds like it was recorded during a basement show. That's not a bad thing. It's endearing and makes the band relatable. Their sophomore effort, Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, is a bit more polished, but still contains the raw component.

By the time The Black Parade came out, MCR was no longer an edgy post-hardcore band from suburban North Jersey. They were a rock band who acted like they've been there before.

The Black Parade is a concept album about a cancer patient, and opens with the sound of a beeping hospital monitor. We've all heard that sound firsthand, and it immediately grabs your attention after you hit play. The album is pretty aggressive from the outset, with catchy hooks and Ray Toro's signature guitar workings. The band slows things down midway through with "Cancer," which is an incredibly morbid song written from the perspective of the dying patient who is both protagonist and antagonist of the album. This is not the slow song that most fans will skip over. It's a must listen.

The most interesting song on the album, and potentially MCR's entire catalog, is "Mama." A scathing letter written by the patient to his mother, "Mama" toes the line of parody, but keeps the mood so dark. The patient is very much an unreliable narrator, which brings a certain appeal to both this song and the entire album. This is some of Gerard Way's best work as a writer.

Musically, this album is on par with MCR. However, it's more produced than anything they've released. While that may turn some fans off, MCR makes it work. The well-placed sound effects and orchestra cuts complement the eerie nature of the album's concept. If this is selling out, then I hope all of my favorite bands sell out.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 89: Dave

Prompt: "A song about being late"

Selected by Dave

"My Life Story"

MxPx

The Ever Passing Moment, 2000

I'm a fan of MxPx, but my daughters are fans of singer Mike Herrera's daughter, Sailor. According to Mike's wife's Instagram, Sailor is eleven. Sailor is a talented musician who writes her own cute songs. I was scrolling through Instagram one day and saw that Mike and Sailor did an acoustic version of NOFX's "Linoleum," which happens to be my favorite NOFX song. I think I actually like Sailor's version more than the original. The girls overheard me listening to it and came over to sit on my lap. They were mesmerized. Now they asked me to go to Instagram and listen to Sailor whenever they're in the mood for some tunes.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 88: Dave

Prompt: "A song about a loser"

Selected by Dave

"If You C Jordan"

Something Corporate

Leaving Through the Window, 2002

CDs were still prevalent when Ashley and I started dating. We were stuck in traffic on 95 during our first date, so naturally, the conversation stalled. The silence didn't last long. I handed her my CD book. It was overinflated with two and sometimes three disks per slot. I told her she could play anything she'd like. Not only would it provide background noise, but we'd be able to discuss the band she picked and why. She chose Leaving Through the Window by Something Corporate. It's a good album, highlighted by songs like "Hurricane" and "Cavanaugh Park." I'm not crazy about this song, but it is about a loser named Jordan who bullied vocalist Andrew McMahon. I saw Something Corporate and the Format open for Yellowcard at the Factory in 2004. It was the most packed I've ever seen that venue. The friend I went with has since OD'd and died.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 86: Dave

Prompt: "A pro-women anthem"

Selected by Dave

"Liza"

NOFX

Heavy Petting Zoo, 1996

A few days ago, I used the track "Liza and Louise" by NOFX, and referenced the sequel called "Liza." The song chronicles Liza's life following her breakup from Louise, and it resembles not only a pro-women anthem, but also a pro-LGBTQ anthem. Liza develops from a submissive new-found lesbian into not only a top but a dominatrix "femme bitch top."

Some may interpret the song as tongue in cheek, but it's really anything but that. Vocalist Fat Mike is a strong ally who credits himself with running Underoath off the 2006 Warper Tour due to their views on same-sex marriage. Also notable, Fat Mike is a BDSM enthusiast, so he clearly indulged himself in crafting this tale.

Side note, I was at the 2006 Warper Tour, and it was announced during our show that Underoath had left the tour. I was pretty pissed. They said they needed some time to regroup as a band. Fat Mike isn't exactly a beacon of integrity, but I believe his side of the story.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 83: Dave

Prompt: "A song with a specific line or lyric that never fails to make you laugh"

Selected by Dave

"Liza and Louise"

NOFX

White Trash, Two Heebs and a Bean, 1992

NOFX chronicles two lesbians named Liza and Louise across a couple albums. They're not concept albums, but rather, one song from each album discusses how the couple is doing. On the album White Trash, Two Heebs and a Bean, Liza and Louise discuss how they met and their ensuing sex life. The following album, Heavy Petting Zoo, has a song titled "Liza," which details Liza's life after they break up. I first heard "Liza and Louise" when I was in eighth grade. I was listening with my old friend, Matt. Upon hearing the line "Now I want you to fist me," Matt looked at me and asked if he heard that correctly. I chuckle now whenever I hear that line and think about that moment 23 years ago.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 82: Dave

Prompt: "A song where the meaning is frequently misunderstood"

Selected by Dave

"Comfortably Numb"

Pink Floyd

The Wall, 1979

Most people think "Comfortably Numb" is about a heroin trip, but it's actually about a stomach ache. Back in 1977, before a show at the Spectrum, David Gilmore was experiencing sever and debilitating stomach pain, so a doctor gave him a shot of some unknown medicine. The lyric in the song about a "pinprick" is about the shot. The shot numbed the pain but also his mind. His "hands felt like two balloons" and he performed the show with no recollection of any of it. He came to when they were boarding the tour bus to leave which is where the lyric "Come on, it's time to go" comes from. When I read this story, I thought it was cool that they remembered that it happened in Philly, and even remembered the name of the Spectrum.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 81: Dave

Prompt: "A song that you first heard in concert"

Selected by Dave

"Bonus Mosh Pt. II"

Taking Back Sunday

Where You Want to Be, 2004

Playing new songs is likely a lost art in the streaming era, but it was pretty ballsy back when fans had to anxiously wait for a new album to drop to hear any new music. Fans go to shows to sing along to every song and just lose themselves. Consuming music for the first time, however, takes concentration as you formulate your opinion of yay or nay. I've seen countless bands play new songs live, but "Bonus Mosh Pt. II" stands out for whatever reason. Maybe it was the catchy chord progression to open the song, or the fact that it was the first song I heard from Taking Back Sunday with their new guitarist and side vocalist. I saw them a few months before Where You Want to Be was released. Great show. Great album. Great song.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 80: Dave

Prompt: "A song about platonic love"

Selected by Dave

"Blue and Yellow"

The Used

The Used, 2002

I still find it odd that this song is about platonic love. This is a straight-up love song with what may be my favorite chorus melody of any song. Vocalist Bert claims that this song is about his best friend and guitarist, Quinn. There was a story out of Revolver years ago where Bert went on the record stating that it was about a girl he met while recording the album with whom he allegedly disappeared mid-recording. That article, however, was written while Bert and Quinn were on bad terms. They've both stated multiple times before and after that article that this song is about their friendship. Quinn left the band years ago.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 79: Dave

Prompt: "A song about a divorce"

Selected by Dave

"No Children"

The Mountain Goats

Tallahassee, 2002

On October 7th, 2022, the Phillies beat the Cardinals in Game 1 of the Wild Card Series. It was wild game in which they entered the top of the ninth down 2-0. They then scored six runs and went on to win 6-3. After the game, Ashley's sister and her fiancé came over to babysit the girls while we went to Ashley's stepdad's acoustic band play at a winery in Southern Chester County. We drove Ashley's mom as well. As we were pulling into the parking, we starting talking about Ashley's grandmother. I don't remember the context. Ashley's grandmom was still alive and well at that point, but she suddenly died two weeks later of a massive heart attack. That subjectless conversation sticks with me.

That night, after the bands were finished one of the winery owners, a young guy in his 20s covered "No Children." It's our favorite Mountains Goats song.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 78: Dave

Prompt: "A song about a wedding"

Selected by Dave

"To the End"

My Chemical Romance

Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, 2004

Ah yes, the Song Challenge was bound to go back to this wonderful album. I think I chose a couple songs from this album last summer as well. I used to know the full concept of Three Cheers pretty well. It's a Bonnie and Clyde-esque tale of two lovers who were eventually gunned down in the desert. This song is the third track on the album regarding their wedding day, or at least a wedding day. This album turned 20 this summer. Driving around Northeast Philly in my green Saturn, this album and Rush's Greatest Hits were the only thing my ex-girlfriend and I listened to the entire summer of 2004.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 77: Dave

Prompt: "A song that's perfect for sitting on the back porch with a cold beverage on a warm summer night"

Selected by Dave

"Ripple"

Grateful Dead

American Beauty, 1970

I discovered the beauty of Grateful Dead at the tender age of 34, which is 34 years after I first discovered them. My dad is a huge Deadhead. He's seen them 26 times, which is pennies compared to most Deadheads. I grew up listening to them all day, everyday, I and just never understood it. I didn't find it enjoyable in the slightest. I found it boring and annoying. Suddenly, during the summer of 2021, something clicked, and I fell in love. They're now a fixture in the summer playlist I previously wrote about. The same thing happened with the Rolling Stones. I used to hate them, but I'm now a fan. Something about older ears I guess.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 76: Dave

Prompt: "Let's all name a song about a horse, or maybe even a bunch of horses, whatever you wanna do, I don't care"

Selected by Dave

"Flossing a Dead Horse"

NOFX

So Long and Thanks for All the Shoes, 1997

I chose "Hotdog in a Hallway" a few days ago for a song about a hole. Because NOFX retires this year, I may intentionally go their way a bunch of times for this Challenge. If "Hotdog in a Hallway" and "Flossing a Dead Horse" were the only songs you've ever heard by NOFX. then you'd likely think, "Oh, what a versatile band. They can write a dark satire song about a morbidly obese woman but also compose a relaxing jazz instrumental." That's really not the case at all. They're the AC/DC of punk rock, in that they basically wrote the same album twenty times. They'll tell you the same thing, proudly.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 75: Dave

Prompt: "A song that is a fucking masterpiece, and yet something about it gives you slight pause"

Selected by Dave

"Flake"

Jack Johnson

Brushfire Fairytales, 2001

I was going to pick a song that I love but spoke disparagingly about Christianity. Unfortunately, a few of the bands that I love do that quite a bit. I wouldn't be fond of any song that puts down any religion, but Christianity is the only one I've heard attacked to date, at least from the bands I listen to. I'm no glowing example of a Northeast Philly Catholic, I'm just stating that I enjoy but also disagree with those songs. But since this is the Yearlong Song Challenge, I'm going keep it light with Jack Johnson's "Flake." I love this song. The simple yet catchy chord progression and addictive chorus melody have stuck with me since its release. An absolute masterpiece. I pause because the end of this song is terrible. It's just awful. At around the 3:20 mark, the song devolves into an ear-grating funk piece that's annoying at best.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 74: Dave

Prompt: "A song you sang in elementary school during some sort of assembly or recital"

Selected by Dave

"Stay Awake, Be Ready"

written by Chris Brunelle

single, 1988

I think we sang this song to close out our first Holy Communion on June 4th, 1995. As children, we loved this song because we got to clap. I remember being told to clap with two fingers as opposed to full hands because Catholic school always finds ways to flex their tyranny for no reason. That's not a shot at Catholic school. I'd choose St. Cecilia's and Father Judge if I could do it all over again. My mom enjoyed this song as well. She would sing it when she would wake me up for school in the morning.

Speaking of clapping in church, Baptist churches look like a party.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 73: Dave

Prompt: "A song that will always make you think about something that someone wrote about it"

Selected by Dave

"The Boys of Summer"

Don Henley

Building the Perfect Beast, 1984

I was never crazy about this song, neither the cover nor Don Henley's original version from 1984. I do, however, love the Ataris. The cover can be found on So Long, Astoria, the 2003 album that gave the Ataris their fifteen minutes of fame. It's a fantastic album that I still celebrate today. When I first heard this song, I thought it sounded familiar, and figured it was a cover. I didn't give it much thought. I was playing the album in my bedroom one day, and my mom walked while "The Boys of Summer" was playing. Overhearing the music, she said something to effect of "bands today not being able to write their own music." You know, the typical "get off my lawn" comment.

"The Boys of Summer" ended up being the Ataris' biggest commercial hit, and Don Henley hates it. Bitter about its success, Henley wrote "They wrote some songs, very poorly. They were not very good songwriters. They put out an album, and all people wanted to hear was 'Boys of Summer.'"

Anyway, the Ataris' version was already done in YSC, so I chose Henley’s.

Yearlong Song Challenge, Day 72: Dave

Prompt: "A song about a hole"

Selected by Dave

"Hot Dog in a Hallway"

NOFX

Heavy Petting Zoo, 1996

The best book I've ever read was The Hepatitis Bathtub and Other Stories. It chronicles NOFX through the years. It's dark as hell. The rhythm guitarist describes in detail being molested when he was twelve years old. Not a single soul, family and band included, knew about it until the book was released. The drummer describes his heroin abuse. He once dropped the syringe on the McDonald's bathroom floor, dulling the needle which made it a particularly painful and bloody hit. The book also delves into singer's BDSM fetish. The first line of the book reads, "I remember the first time I drank my girlfriend's piss." I was immediately hooked, and finished the book within a week. NOFX is retiring this year, and it's fucking sad. They're playing 40 cities with a completely different setlist each night. They're not coming to Philly, which is just depressing. The singer's first marriage crumbled via phone in 2008 before a show at the Electric Factory, so I'm sure it's not somewhere he's particularly fond of.