The Lawrence Arms – Metropole (07/04/2014)
The Lawrence Arms are that band so many of us reply “I know of them, but don’t know any songs” when queried about our knowledge of this underrated Chicagoan trio. Nearly a decade between full length releases, it’s easy to pin why a whole generation of punk rock kids aren’t familiar with TLA’s work. If you are one of these folks, let Metropole be the album that both kindles a familiarity, and doubtlessly sparks a fervent need to explore their impressive - albeit slight - back catalogue.
Memorable and romantic in sound and voice, Metropole comes off like the melancholic inner-dialogue of a very lonely man having a very shitty night out reflecting on past and present while wandering the streets of an uninviting city. A feeling no doubt purposefully constructed to emanate from the album’s effectively simple cover art.
You Are Here opens the LP, immediately showcasing a slightly refined version of Lawrence Arms’ sound; uplifting and desperate in equal measure. It spirits expediently through to the equally thumping Hickey Avenue. Any Against Me! fan unfamiliar with TLA will be immediately converted.
The catchy Seventeener (17th and 37th) is stripped and effective, lacking distortion but serving droves in heart, while Beautiful Things follows well. Not necessarily a stand out, but still hook-driven enough to warrant multiple listens without boredom setting in.
Bouncing from the blistering Acheron River, to the dreary and oddly-forgettable title track doesn’t quite gel. Without being a stand out, the song still remains a necessity to help the album embody it’s emotionally desolate theme. Sounds of a night time CBD sweep in and out between songs, as though our perceived protagonist has briefly subdued his inner-demons to reconnect with the environment around him.
Metropole fades to the mouthy and swaggering Drunk Tweets. It’s a wonderful little gut punch that erupts with perfect timing from the heart of the album, proclaiming “Fuck you!” more times in a minute-and-a-half than this reviewer can’t be bothered to count. The YMCA Down The Street From The Clinic is a dark, raw, and masterfully executed song. Comparisons with fellow Illinois punk trio of an alkaline persuasion seem cliché, but unavoidable. That said, Matt Skiba at his most ingeniously abject would still have to tip a big, black hat to such bleak and engrossing story telling. A sauntering, grubby and outstanding work of punk rock poetry.
Contrasting …The Clinic with a very swift-tempo, Never Fade Away sprints away commandingly as a lively and formulaic punk rock call-to-arms. Paradise Shitty is another decent track. Bassist/ Vocalist Brendan Kelly lyrically riffing on that Guns n’ Roses classic is an interesting no-holds-barred approach to what is hard to interoperate as homage, or cynical appropriation. Either way, it’s catchy and effective.
Metropole rounds out full-circle with the ultimately hopeful October Blood. The anthemic ire that Chris Mc Caughan has so wonderfully worked from his guitar since the opening track is never more present on this album than here. It closes out the LP almost demanding an immediate second listen, and proves we should all yearn dearly for another full-length from The Lawrence Arms a shit load sooner than eight long years.
Todd Gingell
Memorable and romantic in sound and voice, Metropole comes off like the melancholic inner-dialogue of a very lonely man having a very shitty night out reflecting on past and present while wandering the streets of an uninviting city. A feeling no doubt purposefully constructed to emanate from the album’s effectively simple cover art.
You Are Here opens the LP, immediately showcasing a slightly refined version of Lawrence Arms’ sound; uplifting and desperate in equal measure. It spirits expediently through to the equally thumping Hickey Avenue. Any Against Me! fan unfamiliar with TLA will be immediately converted.
The catchy Seventeener (17th and 37th) is stripped and effective, lacking distortion but serving droves in heart, while Beautiful Things follows well. Not necessarily a stand out, but still hook-driven enough to warrant multiple listens without boredom setting in.
Bouncing from the blistering Acheron River, to the dreary and oddly-forgettable title track doesn’t quite gel. Without being a stand out, the song still remains a necessity to help the album embody it’s emotionally desolate theme. Sounds of a night time CBD sweep in and out between songs, as though our perceived protagonist has briefly subdued his inner-demons to reconnect with the environment around him.
Metropole fades to the mouthy and swaggering Drunk Tweets. It’s a wonderful little gut punch that erupts with perfect timing from the heart of the album, proclaiming “Fuck you!” more times in a minute-and-a-half than this reviewer can’t be bothered to count. The YMCA Down The Street From The Clinic is a dark, raw, and masterfully executed song. Comparisons with fellow Illinois punk trio of an alkaline persuasion seem cliché, but unavoidable. That said, Matt Skiba at his most ingeniously abject would still have to tip a big, black hat to such bleak and engrossing story telling. A sauntering, grubby and outstanding work of punk rock poetry.
Contrasting …The Clinic with a very swift-tempo, Never Fade Away sprints away commandingly as a lively and formulaic punk rock call-to-arms. Paradise Shitty is another decent track. Bassist/ Vocalist Brendan Kelly lyrically riffing on that Guns n’ Roses classic is an interesting no-holds-barred approach to what is hard to interoperate as homage, or cynical appropriation. Either way, it’s catchy and effective.
Metropole rounds out full-circle with the ultimately hopeful October Blood. The anthemic ire that Chris Mc Caughan has so wonderfully worked from his guitar since the opening track is never more present on this album than here. It closes out the LP almost demanding an immediate second listen, and proves we should all yearn dearly for another full-length from The Lawrence Arms a shit load sooner than eight long years.
Todd Gingell