Sunday, July 21, 2002 @ 1:24 PM
(Drive Thru Records)
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Forget the music for a minute, I'm just jacked they figured out a way to get that new tape smell onto the cover insert… ah yes, the memories!
Okay, firstly I don't like the name, but what's in a name anyway… they sure don't sound come across like wing flappin' tree sitters chirpin' away at all angles… they do the rock/metal crossover very well, evident right out on the crunchin' "New Beginnings," which carries more weight than whine, an added plus I'll go on record as saying.
"Letters To You," gets the adrenaline going much as your average follow-up song would, up an octave, voice and verse flutters for the female listeners. By the way, is there such a thing as shattering genre boundaries anymore? I mean what hasn't been done yet? I'm biased, I don't need to think more than I have to, so when we start throwing four and five word terms around for one band or the next, then later… So Finch, yeah you can apply 'em to modern rock, commercial punk, melodic hard-core… it all fits -- heavy rock simply ain't what it used to be, but it works fine here ‘cause they're about 80% hard and the rest gets gobbled up by this gray coated emo/aggro monster that jerks your head for a few.
You get thirteen mid-road, generally content, occasionally moody, some all-out fucked up ("Grey Matter," "Project Mayhem,") radio ready ("Letters To You," "Perfection Through Silence," "Three Simple Words," "What It Is To Burn,") cuts of pupil dilating dynamism that combines indie-intensity with corporate polish -- so Suicide Machines shake hands with Face To Face and Simon Says… Finch is alright.