Last Call Chernobyl

Drowning Beneath The Sound Of Change

Written by: AP on 27/10/2010 17:41:49

I have a theory which could potentially explain the rise and subsequent popularity of all things core. The correlation between kids with an appreciation for extreme music and kids who understand the context, feel the emotions involved in its conception, and have the ability to distinguish elements in songs that make them good, is not linear. That instrumental prowess is neither exceptional nor central, and that incessant brutality is not the benchmark for heavy music, are facts stubbornly discarded by this same demographic, and when their thick attitude becomes intertwined with the non-linear relationship between ability and talent what comes out is modern scene music.

But even those without talent can often boast at least a baseline amount of brain cells and realise that saturation renders their music all but pointless. This is why we are now seeing a tendency of these mallcore monsters turning to differential techniques like the IQ-adverse eurodance of Attack Attack!, or in this case, the pseudo-progressive cut-and-paste metal of Nova Scotian Last Call Chernobyl. Their debut offering, "Drowning Beneath the Sound of Change", sets a formidable premise with its defiant title, but unless it is intended as an actual eponym, its underlying content does not quite deliver the implied grandeur.

Yes, Matt Moulton knows how to noodle his fingers around the guitar neck; yes, Josh Pellerine has a firm grasp on polyrhythmic percussion; yes, Jason Szeto has the slap technique down; and yes, Kyle Mahar can growl and scream like a cookie monster. What the collective cannot do, however, is write anything resembling actual songs. There is no coherence because the band is seemingly incapable of holding onto one fucking thread in excess of 20 seconds without lapsing into some kind of awkward time anomaly. Last Call Chernobyl seem to think that the element of unpredictability alone defines the realms of chaotic, technical or progressive music, but fail to understand that when the disparate segments fail to flow into each other or collide in some interesting matter, the songs become cluttered with aimless stops and restarts with no substance in between.

Music is art, not sport. In football, dribbling around opponents with impressive footwork serves a clear purpose - to score goals and win - but showing off your latest stack of unrelated technical passages in what Last Call Chernobyl like to call songs, while forgetting all emotion, results in cold, mechanical, common stock garbage with no direction or purpose. Ever heard of a band called Between the Buried and Me? Sit down, listen to "Colors", and you just might learn something.


Download: Eris, Burden of Dreams
For the fans of: Born of Osiris, Orchid's Curse, Structure Fails
Listen: Myspace

Release date 29.06.2010
Diminished Fifth Records

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