Lemuria's The Distance Is So Big

"Hey, so I have dranketh a beer and now I'm wheeeeeeeee making a blog post because I've been stressed and unable to be as creative as I'd prefer on a regular, sober basis. So hey, how about a half-assed shOOpety shot at the past few week's Lemuria consumption? As you are incapable of responding because you are not a spectral being inside my computer or the part of my consciousness telling me to go to bed instead, I think I'll just do this shit."

But then, after fumbling around endlessly in an attempt to marry words with meaning, I actually did just go to bed.

Here's the sober continuation:

 

2013 was a pretty fantastic year for pop-punk and everything falling vaguely beneath or adjacent to that banner, with bands like RVIVR, French Exit, Worriers, Swearin', Direct Hit!, Wringer, and The World Is A Beautiful fuck it releasing some of the best dynamics heavy, emotionally obvious jams I still love despite no longer being 16. And yeah, you can throw Lemuria's The Distance Is So Big to the top of that heap, while you're at it.

Looking back, it's kind of strange that I've pulled out the keyboard for Lemuria as often as I have. Beyond my love for their half of the split LP with Kind Of Like Spitting, I've always just sidled along the positive face of the fence with them. Even overlooking the white-hot rancidity wafting from scattered tracks like "The Origamists", "State Lines", and "Different Girls", there've always been a few too many moments of hookless 90's alt rock monotony to get me truly excited. When Pebble dropped in 2011, the cold, yucky J. Robbins production and the "turn-for-the-mature" diminution of the band's previous energy levels pretty much un-sold me entirely, leading to a full embrace of the shrug of apathy I'd been harboring for years.

When the "Brilliant Dancer" single streamed somewhere around the 2nd quarter of last year, I was pushed to hear it more out of compulsion and routine than any real, unshaken faith in the trio. Some part of me figured I'd do the dutiful thing and keep following the band's exploits, and hey, maybe I'd get to write some smarmy slag piece on them if I was feeling unlikeable or whatever. Skip forward a few days and I've pretty much drilled the song deep enough into my psyche to hear it soundtracking my PTSD flashbacks. The fact that the production was the best it's ever been struck the first blow (ala ditching the moody reverb-cave bullshit of Pebble), but it's the fact that the same can be said of the songwriting that really hooked me. Skip ahead another week or so and - thank fuck - the same can be said of the album's entirety.

Having officially hit the year mark since it's release, I feel pretty safe in stating that this has now officially dethroned my previous favorite Lemuria platter, which is no mean feat. The Distance Is So Big is, track by track, an incredibly fresh, color-saturated brand of vaguely punk-ish pop-rock esoterica, shedding a lot of the previous years' reliance on plodding, simplistic alt-rock riffage, but never resorting to gimmickry or sloppy genre dabbling in it's stead. I'm actually tempted here to go down the dark and loathsome road of "track-by-track descriptions", but I'll refrain for everyone's sake and just point you to this stream here. What I will say is this: prior to pulling out the keys and getting all hyperbolic and untrustworthy, I gave this album three consecutive spins through the ol' critical reviewer's lens, and was actually really surprised that it passed on a "technical" level as well. The balance of super TURNT UP pop ("Public Opinion Bath", "Dream Eater", "Chihuly"), dark, broody angst ("Survivor's Guilt", "Bluffing Statistics", "Ruby"), and that classic slice down the center ("Paint The Youth", "Scienceless", "Congratulations Sex") is nearly flawless, and had me pulling the smarmy, impressed asshole nod the entire time.

The Distance... isn't so much an overhaul as a complete refinement of the band's greatest strengths and most unique attributes. The melodies and moods are insanely well developed and varied, the percussion is more complex and texturing than it's ever been, and the songwriting is fucking great throughout. Even the cutesiness one could level a bit of derision at doesn't waft over you like someone puked in the heating vent this time, and trust me, I don't have the highest tolerance for any kind of twee-ness. I think I'm pretty much out of ecstatic bullshit to gush, so let's close with my favorite song on the album, "Paint The Youth":

You can pick this up on LP and CD on Bridge Nine's page, of all labels, for a reasonable 10-13 bucks. Also, browsing their page is pretty bizarre. When did their lineup become such a weird fucking mess of unrelated styles? Weren't they a kinda bro-y hardcore label since forever?

Also also, should I feel bad about liking some of the Candy Hearts stuff on their page? 'Cause I think I should.