Big loud and very, very derivative
A lot has been written this recently about time machines and what not. In all fairness it already exists, if Dearist’s current album This House Has No Windows is anything to go by. From the opening salvo, it feels like you’ve been transported to 2003 when EMO ruled the toilet circuits around the country and indie discos were infested with kids in black, wearing backpacks, with sweat bands on their wrists, hair that required such monumental feats of engineering, of gel-gineering as we originally called it, that Isambard Kingdom Brunel would ask them for tips.
But enough of looking to the past and outdated stereotypes, what does This House Has No Windows actually sound like. As you can imagine it sounds like a mixture of Hundred Reasons, Funeral for a Friend, Garrison, Hell is for Heroes, A, Million Dead, weirdly sounding American, even though they hail from Wolverhampton, but without any of the skill or passion that made those bands mainstays of the burgeoning scene. Opening track Genocide kicks things off with a blistering riff and driving rhythm section. When the lyrics kick in however all that good work is undone. There is nothing remarkable about the lyrics, nor their delivery. The middle eight tries to bring everything back up with a thoughtful and clever riff, but again the dated vocals ruin the show. Fix start with a mournful piano, that really builds up a melancholy atmosphere. Then the band kick in and it all sounds a bit like A’s hit Nothing. The rest of the song then meanders, but not really going anywhere, until passé chorus about needing ‘a fix, because I’m sick’ banishes the song to mediocrity. The next few songs follow this pattern. Broody intro’s, savage guitars and either mundane lyrics, or vocals. Leecher is a stand out track, but given the quality of the album so far, this isn’t really that hard. It’s the first time that Dearist actually sound convincing and exciting. However the 6th form lyrics, and Hackneyed references don’t really help. The rest of the album is a slow decent into obscurity.
At thirty two minutes long, This House Has No Windows doesn’t outstay its welcome and apart from a couple of tracks, Reign in particular, it doesn’t drag that much, but when it’s over you don’t really feel any need to play it again any time soon. If you like your music loud, vocals shouty and angst ridden lyrics, with 2005 sounding production techniques and guitar sounds, then this is for you. If on the other hand you’ve grown out of this music, along with teenage angst, then stay well clear, because you probably already have this album, and better in your collection already.