Romans
All Those Wrists
7.5
I have never fell in like with an album based on its running time. But this twelve tracks (thirteen if you count the hidden track that shouldn't be hidden) in just under twenty-four minutes thing is golden. And I don't mean that in a glad-that-it's-finally-over kinda way. I mean that it'll be done with you before you're done with it. Hence, the reason why I've chased every other album this week with All Those Wrists.
Ok. So..... Isis! Converge! C'mon! Everybody's saying it. Haven't you read? Romans spilled their guts. So what if their entrails happen to look like those of others. Giving shape and color to paranoid fits isn't exactly a new art form, it's branded, and Romans is unabashedly brand loyal, but they're running with it. If they never stop running, I can foresee a time when a scene-shift will have up-and-comers labeled "Roman-esqe" perhaps. They seem to be carving out a niche with me even though this style is not my preferred poison, which depending on how you read into that, can speak worlds of Wrists. Either I'm no authority on this topic and my word is for shit, or they've got something going on here that can cut into thick skin. You go be the judge when these kids do their frayed-ended aggro-melodi-punk/prog-post-HC thing like they've done this before somewhere (members consist of ex-members and current members of The Years Best, The Hero Cycle, Fire The Cannons, etc.). The starter-offer "The Last Fifty-Eight Quatrains Of The Seventh Century" attests to it. The title track sustains it. Their effortless and successful pursuits of slower, colder bodies of water, that move like only big and cold things can, on the appropriately titled "Tidepool", and in the sweeping chill of "Carve Up And Give Away" (here are your Isis references), confirm it. These Vermontians show their bipolarity often, shifting back and forth between these two moods (segued nicely with a few sound-collage interludes), and are always convincing. Their use of the major scale during frantic riffing provides for static little moments of clarity that are thoroughly enjoyable, and then somewhat addictive, and have become a huge selling point when I'm not so sure if I should be listening to this for that third time in a row. Wrists is actually a whole year old now, and it's their sole album to date. It was originally recorded in '07, self-produced (nicely) and self-released, and then picked up by Black Market Activities as of recently. Seeing as how this still stands the test of time (since even one year in the life of the fickle adolescent music consumer can equal several), I am inclined to predict better things to come.
When in Rome...
