Brand New

Brand New

21 July, 2008
by: Luke

It is oh so easy to dismiss a band like Brand New based solely on the number of side-swept fringes that conceal the many Kohl-lined eyes in attendance. Lumped in with the rest of the emo riff-raff, their saving grace is that they know it, and what’s more, they don’t like it. Not one bit.

To briefly synopsise their career: debut album Your Favourite Weapon sounded like a group of guys that were happy to be ensconced within the power-chord-riffing, teen-angst-heavy pigeonhole labelled ‘emo’, even if they did take the occasional peek outside the box with mildly inspired frissons of maturity.

Album number two, Deja Entendu, was the sound of a group desperately trying to play themselves out of the danger of typecasting themselves as MySpace username lyricists, with critically acclaimed results.

Newly-released album three was nearly four years in the making while the band overcame illness and personal bereavement. Named after the drug-addled musings of a schizophrenic friend, The Devil And God Are Raging Inside Me uses death as a motif, and is generally considered to be quite the musical departure.

Which brings us to the present, and the band’s first extended visit of the UK since 2003 - and a whole lot of catching up to do. Blitzing through the entire career in microcosm takes up a full, breathtaking two hours, but quality is never compromised for concision. Early classics from Your Favourite Weapon are not only dusted off, but fully restored and revamped in the shape of ‘The Shower Scene’ and ‘Seventy Times Seven’, which flash past in their giddy excitement to show off what they can really do.

‘Soco Amaretto Lime’, one of several acoustic efforts that add an impressively accomplished texture to the set, is welcomed like an old friend, prompting misty-eyed singalongs. The air is thick with a tangible, poignant irony as Lacey sings the line “I wanna stay eighteen forever”, as devoted followers sing it back because they relate to it, they understand it – easy enough to say when you actually are eighteen. But Lacey and Brand New have moved on and ‘Soco…’ draws the curtain on their first, easily disposable pop-rock record.

If songs were judged based on overtly ambitious titles alone, then tracks like ‘Okay I Believe You, But My Tommy Gun Don’t’ and ‘Me vs Maradona vs Elvis’ would be solid-gold hits. Although the lyrics descend into further depths of despair (especially as the band edge closer to the ‘third act’ that is The Devil…), it is the music itself that sounds like the world is coming to a cataclysmic end, and Lacey is the shaman trying to show us the way.

Instrumental songs such as ‘Tautou’ or ‘Welcome To Bangkok’ see the entourage of disciples on stage to help erect walls of sound. As the photographer raised arms skyward to frantically thrash drumsticks upon huge bass drums, Kodak swinging haphazardly around his neck all the while, you began to wonder what they know that we yet do not.

The curtain is drawn with choice cuts from The Devil…, by which time Lacey’s Morrissey-dancing (not to be confused with Morris Dancing – ‘jigs’ do not rock) makes it clear what’s really eating Brand New. Having cribbed lyrics from indie taste-makers such as The Smiths and The Cure in the past, they have long since made a habit of punching above their weight. Here they harness a precocious fragility that sounds like they’re straddling the transitional borderline between underdog and prize fighter.

But what side of the fence do Brand New sit on? Lacey finishes set-closer ‘You Won’t Know’ by repeatedly screaming the titular lyric until the music is gradually stripped away to nothing. Exasperated yet still triumphant, he eventually drops the microphone with a dull thud before strolling off the stage in the enveloping darkness. There is no need for a goodbye as they know they’ll be back – and such confidence does not an underdog make.

Article first published February 2007
Brand New are back in the UK this summer for Reading and Leeds festivals

Luke