Acceptance

Band: Acceptance

Album I Own: A Santa Cause: It's a Punk Rock Christmas (2003 compilation)

Hunted Song: "So This Is Christmas"

Acceptance on Pandora

I've finally come across the first couple of single-song artists on my iPod. I considered skipping them, but to give a full idea of the range of music I have, I'll write briefly about them whenever they pop up.

And besides, if I didn't, I would have no way to discuss some of the fun and quirky compilation albums that I only listen to occasionally.

With that said, the Santa Cause disc (kind of a "punk goes yuletide" sort of thing) is an excellent collection of songs by a variety of artists, from the obscure ska band Stand Still (with the hilarious "I Saw Daddy Kissing Santa Clause") to long-time goofballs Blink-182.

Unfortunately, Acceptance's ho-hum cover of "So This is Christmas" is a low point on the album. It's pretty standard acoustic fare from a pretty standard band.

The Seattle-based alt rock foursome formed in 1998 but is currently defunct, although drummer Nick Radovanovic posts the occasional unreleased song on their still functioning MySpace page. The most notable former member is guitarist Christian McAlhaney, who moved on to join the incredibly successful group Anberlin.

According to Acceptance's Wikipedia page (I know, I know, bad sourcing), they broke up because of lead singer Jason Riley's departure in the summer of 2006. A pseudo-poetic (and slightly backhanded) message from McAlhaney claims Riley gave up "the abnormal life of a gypsy rock musician" to take on "the yoke of the common man."

A word on Jason: If you like smooth, unabashed vocals, the song won't disappoint. His voice is surprinsigly strong--thankfully, he stays away from the embarrasing warbling and misguided creative license that plagues so many covers.

Admittedly, taking on a classic such as this set the band up for failure. Maybe that's why they felt the need to change the song name. The original John Lennon tune--"Merry Christmas (War is Over)"--is still the best rendition by far.

Acceptance opted not to include a chorus of children in the song's finale, but it makes little difference. When all is said and done, it's a faithful but dull cover of a (rightfully) untouchable song.

Note: There is, however, a cover that does deserve mention. Check out Thrice's version, titled "Merry Christmas, War is Over." It starts with the same predictable acoustic guitar, but Thrice is one of the few bands that has never put out a bad cover. The second verse is backed by rich organ chords that mesh well with singer Dustin Kensrue's vocals.

Interestingly, Acceptance and Thrice both kept the flamenco-inspired fast picking that is in the original. However, Thrice does so with electric guitar as opposed to acoustic, giving it a noticable difference in sound and just the right amount of attitude.

The Academy Is...

Band: The Academy Is...

Albums I Own: Almost Here (2005)

Hunted Album: Almost Here

The Academy Is... on Pandora

Where would the world be without emo-rific PPPDs?

Short for Panty Pleasing Panty Dropping, PPPDs (pronounced Triple PD) are bands made for girls by guys who sound like girls, dress like girls, play like girls and, as much as I hate to admit it, probably have sex with a lot of girls. They are epitomized today by bands that don't even try and hide their questionable sexuality with clever names (Boys Like Girls, anyone?).

(D)evolution suggests they share common genes with The Beatles and '90s boy bands and are the indie predecessors to Disney's current generation of guitar-fueled teeny-bop superstars.

The Academy Is... was one of the very first PPPD powerhouses. I still remember "Checkmarks", the Chicago quintet's first single, blasting from the house sound system during the set change at nearly every local show. That song dominated emo airplay for nearly six months straight.

Just last month the band (vocalist/frontman/heartthrob William Beckett, bassist Adam Siska, guitarist Mike Carden and a cadre of drummers and second guitarists) celebrated the fifth anniversary of Almost Here's (2005) release with a sold-out show at the Metro in downtown Chicago. Granted, I haven't heard much from the group in a while, but for an emo band to pull in the crowds (let alone still function) after five years is impressive.

Today, even with two additional albums under their belts, The Academy Is... have been surpassed by other, more prolific groups bearing the Fueled By Ramen moniker, most notably Paramore.

The label has a long legacy of being a springboard for quality pop bands, with alumni such as Jimmy Eat World and Fall Out Boy moving on to bigger and better things. It's no surprise that by sticking with a mid-level label for their entire lifespan, The Academy Is... have seen their popularity wane over five long years.

The Album

But in the mid-'00s, at the height of the Almost Here craze, they were the band to see, be and beat. No one could touch them, not even perennial emo kingpins Taking Back Sunday (who, I should add, have only recently began recording again after a four year hiatus).

Since I tend to get long-winded, I'll make this post short and sweet. In a way, I'll be mirroring Beckett himself, who moans and muses about two-week relationships with what the main review on iTunes calls a "velvety" voice.

Speaking of lyrics: I think the thing that separates borderline emo bands from the elites is simply how interesting they can get with wordplay. What sets postmodern lyricism apart from early Britpop-esque optimism is irony. To Beckett's credit, he manages to hit on both, although sometimes he doesn't realize it.

Examples: On "Slow Down," the king of the PPPDs asks and answers his own question: "Hollywood hills and suburban thrills/Hey you, who are you kidding?/I'm not like them. I won't buy in." Maybe he didn't plan on middle-class white kids listening to his music, but there's not much effort to embrace a different market.

Later, he goes on to warn, "I'm not sayin' that I'm not breakin' hearts tonight, girl." A double whammy of wordplay and irony! At least this time he planned on both.

On the fifth track, an ode to making it big titled "Black Mamba," he goes into all-out unconscious irony on our asses: "Oh, Mr. Magazine/I never wrote one single thing for you/Or your so-called music scene/You both mean shit to me." Enough said.

At least his straightforward lyrics are better than the garbled poetry many emo bands try to write. For the most part, Beckett writes in second person to directly address some invisible audience: a doctor on "The Phrase That Pays," the target of a less-than-modest hookup on "Checkmarks."

This style choice is smart; it makes every line more personal and fresh, even after multiple listens, like a silky-throated best friend.

I think, though, that I've been too quick to judge. It's Beckett's job to be charismatic and throw in enough pseudo-cool imagery and catchy melodies to make people dance. Otherwise, it wouldn't be emo. It wouldn't even be pop.

But I can't forgive him for repetition. He seems to have some strange preoccupation with the idea of being upside down (or downside up). Listen to the album one time through and you'll know what I mean.

So, you might be asking--why no rant on musicality? What about the fun off-beat syncopation during the first verse on "Season?" What about the surprisingly harsh chorus and end to "Checkmarks?"

I won't sugar coat it. I didn't listen to the whole album. I heard it--because my headphones were in--but I never actually listened. It went in one end and out the other, an endless stream of intro/verse/chorus/repeat. If what I say seems biased, well, it is. The Academy Is... just is not my cup of tea.

The truth is, PPPDs work both ways--not only do they help panties drop for the band members, they also help everyone who plays their music. When you're driving to a show with that special girl in your car, she wants to find something that gets her body moving (and so do you).

PPPDs (and Almost Here) have one purpose for most of the people in the world: to keep girls entertained--long, long into the night. Its a beautiful thing.

The Acacia Strain

Band: The Acacia Strain

Albums I Own: Continent (2008)

Hunted Album: Continent

The Acacia Strain on Pandora

I couldn't have planned the timing of this review any better. The Acacia Strain, the four person metal/deathcore group from sleepy Chicopee, Mass., released their fifth album, The Most Known Unknown, less than a month ago on Feb. 9.

Like their previous four albums, the disc was released by metal specialists Prosthetic Records, the current home to All That Remains and Through the Eyes of the Dead. The label was also the launch pad for Lamb of God before they became the Hot Topic-ized face of more "brutal" metal.

The Acacia Strain is one of those bands that has been around for a while (since 2002) but only recently made a name for themselves with a host of headlining shows alongside metalcore heavyweights such as August Burns Red and Parkway Drive, as well as a spot on the now- defunct Sounds of the Underground tour in 2007.

Continent (2008) was proclaimed by lead singer Vince Bennett in a press package as "definitely darker than anything we've done in the past. It's more proper, if that's even possible."

Unfortunately, this is one of those albums I got at some random point, from some random friend, but never listened to. Given that Continent was the band's most recent effort until three weeks ago, I figure it'll give me a good sense of who they are--and maybe why I should give their newest album a listen.

The Album

I'll admit, the criteria I use to judge metal are pretty fickle. Most of the time I can't even articulate the exact reasons I enjoy one group over another. The Acacia Strain is one of those bands that for some vague reason rubs me the wrong way.

This is not to say the instrumentals on Continent aren't brash, brutal and beligerent. The guitars are permanently tuned a step and a half down, adding plenty of distorted rumble to Daniel Laskiewicz chords on "JFC."

In the same vein as Emmure, every song is comprised of back-to-back breakdowns with the occasional solo thrown in for good measure. Unlike some, I enjoy this formula: each guitar build or drum break gives you just enough time to catch your breath, and I'm sure at live shows the pit is formidable.

But the fact remains that The Acacia Strain is pretty standard metal. Drummer Kevin Boutot is spot-on with mechanical double-bass and china hits in "Seaward," and the rapid recklessness of "Dr. Doom" is punctuated by a measured and technical solo.

With the huge variety of acts out there (Prosthetic alone has a lineup of 29), it's getting harder and harder for mid-level bands to set themselves apart. It's understandable why the album begins with "Skynet," as it's the most balanced track. The middle section has some long, chorus-laden notes in the upper register set over rhythm guitar that were unexpected yet welcomed.

The more I think about it, my biggest issue with Continent (and The Acacia Strain in general) is the vocals. Blame it on my penchant for more melodic metal, but I enjoy a little singing with my throat thrashing.

It's a tough line to define, and a good chunk of my friends can't hear (and don't care about) the difference between baby-in-a-blender-esque yelling and deeper, more traditional screams. I believe there's a time and place for both, and with the right band, a scream can become a trademark.

But to be honest, Bennett's vocals are too deep and gutteral, almost to the point that they're monotone. There's simply nothing special about them.

As with any vocals, screams are supposed to help keep place and add another level of musicality to a song. With Bennett's deep growls, everything mushes together so that the album becomes a 38-minute-long series of breakdowns, measured only by the 2-second interlude between tracks.

Aside from that, The Acacia Strain lacks the fancy fingerplay and musical layers of bands such as Misery Signals. They are also exponentially less fun than many of their contemporaries. I've never been a fan of traditional metal, with themes of death, Satanic imagery and calls for total annihilation.

Bennett says the whole album was based on the concept of nihilism. Aside from a momentary lapse into goofiness on the otherwise disturbing "Balboa Towers" ("Leave the trash where the trash belongs/Baby, you'd look good in a dumpster") the lyrics are uniformly dark, centered on dreams of apocalypse and murder.

But this isn't enough to make the album completely damnable. As I mentioned, the instrumentals are tight and there were enough surprises to keep my attention. Maybe it's no accident that the band spiked in popularity after a set of high-profile tours. I feel as if they are the type of metal band that has to be experienced and heard.

If I happen to see them in concert, which I might, I just have one request: don't sacrifice a child or anything on stage. This isn't Norway.