Dead Beat

Est. 2013

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They can paint away, but the songs we sing are stuck in these walls.

2011: The year I got my braces off, the year I got my first ticket, the year I bought my first pop punk albums, and, most importantly, the year I first heard Nature and Nurture.

  My life up until that point had been a series of really terrible friendships and feeling out of place in more or less every aspect of my life. That was the year I really started to have a desire to see the bands I’d been listening to on my iPod live. That was the year I got into The Wonder Years, The Movielife, Transit, Fireworks, and this band from Knoxville called On My Honor.

  I had just turned seventeen; I didn’t feel like I belonged to any community of peers…until I walked into my first local punk show.

  It wasn’t On My Honor, but I saw them for the first time a few weeks later at a Little Heart Record’s anniversary show. A place I would end up interning at in a couple of years. Every single person I call my friend today was at that show—the people I call my family today were all at that show and I literally had no clue, it seems crazy now that I wasted as much time as I did not being their friends. The very first time I met Drew—if I remember this correctly, it may have been a show a year later—he asked me if I was coming to Thanksgiving at his house. That just floored me. I never got invited to things, especially not something like that. I instantly felt loved and wanted and accepted into the group… even today still makes me feel emotional.

  2012 came and went, and it was one of the toughest years of my life. I didn’t feel very happy for a lot of it. I graduated high school and moved away from everything I knew for college. Which was fine, and I wanted to do it, but it took me a while to make friends. Toward the end of that year, I went with some friends to Knoxville for the first time. It was probably the best weekend I’d had in my life, up to that point; I finally had people I felt truly comfortable with, I had friends who I didn’t feel like were going to run away for no reason. I was happy.

  That next year was, without a doubt, the very best time I’ve had in my entire life.

  I went to the east coast for the first time, I watched someone fall through a roof, I started a circle pit…it was just a year of firsts and a year I will love forever, and I mainly owe that to On My Honor, as those dudes were there for all of those firsts.

  With all the highs, there were a few lows. But for once, I had people to pick me up and brush me off when I fell. I truly do not have words to express how thankful I am to everyone who ever answered a text at one in the morning, or sat in a bedroom and listened to me talk about my life, or said something that made me feel a little less like garbage. Drew, Molly, Audrey, Serene, Elliott, the list goes on forever. There are not enough ways to say thank you that would truly express my gratitude for everything y’all have done for me.

I Never Deserve the Things I Need still hits home so hard every time I listen to it. And every time I hear those songs, I feel better. There are a few songs on that record that I relate to so much...more than I have with any other song. That album is so important to me. It was so important to my growth in the last year. It was so important to me learning to like myself.

  Last month, On My Honor broke up. I’m still really not done processing that. I’ve shed a few tears over it. They were the one band that really, truly helped me through the worst times in my life. They saved me, frankly. They taught me to value friendships, yes, but more importantly, to value myself enough to not let toxic relationships drag me back down.

  There will always be a hole in my heart where OMH once was; I don’t think that’s a wound that will ever heal. I also don’t think I’ll ever be eloquent enough with words to truly express what this band meant to me, I’ve been typing for an hour and I still don’t feel like I’ve expressed it properly. Just know that I truly have loved every single moment I had with you guys as a band. You all changed my life. (Well, you and Little Heart Records—which means just as much but which I definitely do not have words to express.)

  I am a better person because On My Honor existed. I am a changed person because On My Honor existed. I am happier because On My Honor existed.

  As truly heartbroken as I am that they’re done, there’s something that will never go away that OMH created; the friendships we forged singing those songs together. They are forever, because it’s more than just friendship, it always was; we’re a family. A huge, dysfunctional, messed up family, but a family nonetheless.

  If you took the time to read this, you’re probably part of that family. So thanks for letting me be in the pictures for once in my life instead of being the one taking them. Thanks for making me laugh. I love you guts.

  Team Shithead is forever. Team Shithead will never die.

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S.O.S. (Save our scene)

Photo by Bryan Volz

Any veteran of  “the scene” (I use this term loosely,) will attest to how important going to local shows is. Or, rather, they should. If they aren’t, they’re doing a disservice to the entire punk community.

  One of the downfalls of pop punk/hardcore/whatever you want to call it (I’m really not big on labeling things by genre and I think multi-genre shows are the way to go anyway,) is that we can get into this habit of forming cliques. We make fun of the new kids. We make fun of the bands that are doing what’s stereotypically pop punk. We scoff from the back of the crowd.

  But what’s the point of that? We should be encouraging these kids, right? Weren’t we just like them at their age?

  I admit; I’ve been guilty of doing some of these things in the past. I was mistaken. 

  I remember being 15 and new to the music scene like it was yesterday—it practically was yesterday. I’m 20; I’m on the verge of becoming a pop punk veteran, by the scene’s standards. But why is that? Why do we label some genres as “for kids?” I love pop punk just as much as I did when I was 15. I may not relate to The Upsides like I used to, but the bands I love most have matured with me. The Greatest Generation and Oh, Common Life are two releases from two of my favorite bands that show the growth that can happen—musically and lyrically—if we don’t write these bands off as fare for teenagers.

  But even if pop punk was just for kids, we as the older people in the scene should still be supporting it. We should be taking care of the kids that listen to it. These kids come to us for a reason. They need somebody; they need us. Nobody gets into punk because they’re well-balanced teenager. Dan Campbell of The Wonder Years said this better than I possibly could:

  “There's a reason we all listen to punk rock instead of Top 40. There's a reason I'd rather be stage diving than at a bar. I think that most everyone I know involved in punk or hardcore is intrinsically [messed] up on some level. There is something wrong with us. Maybe not "wrong", but certainly different. Because of this, I think we all share a similar outlook and because of that, we share similar experiences.”

  We should be taking these kids under our wings. I was fortunate enough when I started going to local shows (I still remember my first one like it was yesterday. RIP Aim for the Skies, we miss you,) to fall in with a group of people who’d been around longer than me, who knew what they were doing and who were willing to teach me how things worked.

  Three years later and I’m interning for a record label (Little Heart Records) that I truly love and believe in, running this blog and booking my own all-ages shows to try to give these kids I spent 500 words talking about a place to go.

  I wouldn’t have gotten here if not for my mentors. I still have a long way to go, but I’m trying hard to contribute something positive to this scene, rather than become a cynic who stands in the back of the crowd with their arms crossed.

  I never want to become that.

We must protect these kids at all costs. They are our future; if they aren't accepted into the fold, our community is going to die. All-ages shows are the backbone of the scene. It is so important to keep them happening. We have to, or the little families we have created all across the country are going to fizzle out and be forgotten. 

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Dead Beat Unplugged 002 // Ain't Worth Killin'

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Shot an acoustic session with our friends in Ain't Worth Killin' today, check out deadbeatunplugged.tumblr.com later this week to watch it!

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I sit down with Louisville native Serene Conoway and discuss the importance of all-ages shows and local music.

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Check out the very first episode of Dead Beat Unplugged, featuring Louisville's own Begging Victoria. 

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Women belong in punk, so act like it

Photo by Kelly Horrell

In the past year, several online publications (Alternative Press, PropertyofZack, etc.) posted several lists and articles about women in punk.

Hayley Williams had to address rumors that she was dating a bandmate, when the relationship would never have been questions about the two of them had Williams been a man. Mariel Loveland of Candy Hearts wrote a fairly lengthy blog on sexism in punk.

The fact that this is even an issue is, quite frankly, embarrassing.

I am lucky to be from Louisville, where these issues are less prominent. But even in Louisville, punk is very much a boy’s club. The ratio of women to men at shows is often drastically skewed. Women who attempt to become a part of the community are often trivialized.

If a woman is in a band, it becomes known as “the band with the girl singer.” If a woman likes a band, it is assumed she likes it because she thinks the lead singer is attractive.

I have experienced this myself on several occasions; I get emails addressing me as "dude," or "man," before my name is know because it is automatically assumed that if I'm doing something of value for the scene, I must be a man, right?

That is demeaning.

That is wrong.

That is one of the problems I have with punk rock. I do not want my musical tastes or abilities to be defined by my gender, nor should they be.  Punk should feel welcoming to everyone. Punk should feel like a second home. We are all here because something in our "normal" lives isn't right; we don't fit. That shouldn't be dictated by gender.

If someone is saying, “Well I can’t go to that show because I’m not a boy,” or “I can’t like this band because I’m a girl,” then there is a problem that needs to be addressed.

And it needs to be addressed now. 

Women should be encouraged to attend shows, start bands, buy music, yes. But more importantly, when we do actually do those things, we should be treated with the same level of reverence and respect that anybody else would be.

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Review: I Never Deserve the Things I Need

Rating: 4.5/5

Pop punk is a genre littered with clichés; “I’m not sad anymore,” an unhealthy obsession with pizza, more lyrics about friendship than there are tattoos of Hank the Pigeon, the list goes on and on. It is a genre that the older crowd – including myself – tends to get tired of once lyrics about getting out of one’s hometown and leaving school stop being relatable. Every band formed out of the “new wave” of pop punk blends into the next and oftentimes I find myself asking “What band is this?” at shows, and being surprised that the bands had changed while I was outside. Now, I’ll admit, that familiarity – that formula – is part of why I love pop punk, but you need something a little meatier than a dozen “I’m not sad anymore”s. On My Honor (Knoxville, TN) satisfies that craving for deeper, more grown-up pop punk with thoughtful musicianship and honest, but not immature, lyrics. 2011’s Nature and Nurture gave us a little taste of what the five-piece outfit could do. The EP’s positive nature made it a fan-favorite for sing-alongs and paved the way for their second full-length record. Little Heart Records put out I Never Deserve the Things I Need at the start of June 2013. I Never Deserve the Things I Need takes a darker, different turn than anything the band has previously released. The standard glass-half-full anthems still remain (“Gypsy Summer” and “A Negative Mind”) but the record digs deeper than that, starting with the opening track, “Tired.” “Tired” is a short and almost understated introduction to 33 minutes of solid, honest pop punk. The idea of entitlement is touched upon “I never deserve the things I need/ I was meant to spend my life alone,” to be revisited in the next track, “Time to Heal,” a Paramore-esque look at what kind of toll the steps toward progression can take and how draining that can be. The album’s title track continues the album’s discussion on entitlement, and it contains my personal favorite set of lyrics regarding the topic: “Despite every nightmare at my soul, I count it a privilege just to watch you grow/ No rest for the strong, if that’s how you’re perceived/ Too close, too close, you’re too close to me/ It’s what I craved and cried for/ I never deserve the things I need.” It nicely bridges the gap between itself and “Say It With the I,” with a drum solo at the end that continues into the intro on the next track. After a brief acoustic, almost folky interlude with “A Negative Mind,” the record picks right back up with “Rafters.” The track easily contains some of the heaviest subject matter On My Honor has ever written about (“I think I died in the rafters that night/ Shocked to death, barely 25/ Limp limbs, heart electrified/ One burnt arm and an open casket for these friends of mine.”) I Never Deserve the Things I Need’s single, “Indrid Cold,” easily has the most memorable guitar work of any song on the album. Reworked from a split with the UK’s Above the Underground, “Indrid Cold” fits perfectly both in the record and in a live set; gang vocals, a killer guitar solo and a fast-paced chorus make you want to get rowdy in all the best ways. The record closes with “Present Tense.” The track is a blend of heavy and light; simultaneously asking “Why can’t I accept what’s offered to me?” and telling, “When I compare the past to my present tense/ I’m as clean, as clean as I have ever been.” The song closes with a well-placed set of “Whoa”s and another solid guitar solo. Drums fade the record to a close, leaving the listener with a sense of closure and completion. On My Honor has written these songs that could have easily been boring, generic pop punk but instead are dynamic and breathe life back into a scene that I personally had become to get rather disillusioned and bored with. Records like I Never Deserve the Things I Need are the reason why I fell in love with pop punk, and why I continue to listen to the genre.

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Review: Two Songs About Cars. Two Songs With Long Titles.

Rating: 3.5/5

Evan Weiss is a busy, busy man, as anyone who has even dipped a toe into the waters of the scene would know. When a new emo or power-pop act is announced, the knee-jerk reaction is to think, “Well, Evan Weiss has a new project.” Between Into It. Over It.’s busy schedule and the cheeky project Their/They’re/There with Owen, one would expect Pet Symmetry to feel strained, to fall short. However, Weiss, along with members of Dowsing, have created an EP that won’t quickly be forgotten.

Two Songs About Cars. Two Songs With Long Titles. opens with “A Detailed and Poetic Physical Threat to the Person Who Intentionally Vandalized My 1994 Dodge Intrepid Behind Kate’s Apartment,” A track describing the defacement of Weiss’ car (Carol.) It’s refreshingly different from what we expect from Into It. Over It. Weiss, Erik Czaja and Kate Grube playfully add in “whoas” and echo one another throughout the second half of the song. Weiss croons, “Have you ever felt your perfect teeth make a connection with Chicago concrete?” and we don’t doubt the intentions behind his words. 

“Please Don’t Tell My Father That I Used His 1996 Honda Accord to Destroy the Town of Willow Grove, Pennsylvania in 2002,” initially sounds like a track from Proper. Mark Jaeschke’s horns give the track new life and ultimately make it harder to forget—though, the A-side is the most memorable track from the two-song EP.

Wiess, Czaja and Marcus Nuccio have crafted a set of fun, power-pop songs that will more likely than not worm their way into the soundtracks to your summer drives for at least a few years to come.

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Review: Paramore

Rating:  4/5

That being said, in 2010, my first favorite band broke up. Well…not entirely. But my two favorite members did leave. Josh and Zac Farro left and I pretty much thought Paramore was done; I didn’t think that Jeremy Davis, Taylor York and Hayley Williams could carry the torch on their own. The singles that were put out in 2011 did nothing to make me believe differently, so by the time 2013 rolled around, I hadn’t even planned to listen to their self-titled fourth album. I’m glad I did, though.

“Paramore” opens with a fun, summer song, “Fast in My Car.” Williams’ is definitely channeling her inner-Gwen Stefani during the first tracks. York’s guitar work is also reminiscent of No Doubt. It’s almost refreshing that the album doesn’t open with one of the singles, or a song that sounded identical to the last album. “No we’re not looking for violence / tonight we want to have fun,” Williams sings, and we’re reassured that this album isn’t going to be a witch-hunt directed at the Farro brothers.

The second song was also the first single Paramore released since their “Singles Club” releases in 2011. Originally, “Now” was actually almost grating to listen to. Only within the context of the album could I really appreciate this song. Williams’ incredible vocals shine here—possibly more so than anywhere else on the album.

Something that’s important to note about the remaining members of Paramore is that they were very, very young when “All We Know is Falling,” was released. It’s easy to forget that when we’re hearing music that reaches us at whatever age we’re at, but Williams and Davis were only teenagers when that album came out. “Grow Up” is a good reminder of that.  Electronic synthesizers and Paramore were never two things that seemed like they would go together, but in “Grow Up,” the two merge fairly well.

The album’s three ukulele interludes provide the kind of snarky, tongue-in-cheek lyrics that one expects from a songwriter like Williams all wrapped up in an island-inspired musical package.

Bands use the idea of “growth” (both sonically and as people,) with pretty much every record they put out. The thing is, sometimes that term is used as an excuse for a simply poorly made album (a recent example being blink-182’s  “Neighborhoods.”) “Paramore” is far from a poorly done album, however there are places where they miss the mark. “Daydreaming,” “Still Into You” and “Be Alone” are, quite frankly, a bit bland and boring.

17 tracks is a lot to ask out of today’s Twitter-obsessed listener; it’s very tempting to browse the Web or check texts during some of the songs on “Paramore.” If you can make it through those songs, however, York, Davis and Williams reward you with sonic gold.

The album’s three ukulele interludes provide the kind of snarky, tongue-in-cheek lyrics that one expects from a songwriter like Williams all wrapped up in an island-inspired musical package.

“Ain’t it Fun” picks up lyrically where the second ukulele interlude, “Moving On” leaves off. This song was one of the most pleasant surprises of the whole album; the gospel choir chorus paired with York’s guitar work is like a breath of fresh air. It completely regains the interest that was lost just a few tracks before.

In “Part II,” long-time Paramore fans are treated with a throwback to “Riot!” with the guitars and lyrics taken directly from “Let the Flames Begin” as well as  the cover of “Brand New Eyes” with the line “A beauty has betrayed/ Butterflies with punctured wings.” This sounds like the Paramore we know and love, but it doesn’t feel like Brand New Eyes: The Return of Angsty Hayley. This is a phoenix rising out of the ashes and into a bright new future: “Like the moon we borrow our light / I am nothing but a shadow in the night / And if you let me, I will catch fire / To let your glory and mercy shine.”

“Last Hope” is an anthem song. It’s one of those songs that becomes a mantra for you; when you’re discouraged, or sad, or think your life isn’t going the way it’s supposed to be, this is one of those songs you put on and drive around screaming at the top of your lungs until you can breathe a little easier…and, honestly, songs like that are the reason that I, as well as countless other young people, fell in love with Paramore in the first place. Putting it directly after the “Riot!” throwback was more than appropriate.

The remainder of the album doesn’t shine as brightly as the first half. “Anklebiters” is a New Found Glory-inspired pop-punker and “(One of Those) Crazy Girls” is a humorous jab at the social climate induced by other unnamed celebrities.

When you reach “Future,” you realize that this is the song you have been waiting four years and 16 tracks for; this is Paramore at it’s finest.

The whole goal of this album has been to turn the page to a new chapter in the book that is Paramore. Williams sings “We’re writing the future; we don’t talk about the past now,” and I have a feeling she means it. “Paramore” wasn’t entirely an escape from the band’s past; there were lyrics that obviously were about struggles the band had in the years since Brand New Eyes.

“Future” wipes their metaphorical slate entirely clean; they’ve released all of that hurt and anger and it’s turned into this beautifully blank canvas for their future. This is, without a doubt, the highlight of the entire album.

The lyrics aren’t what make this song, though. It’s the instrumental. It isn’t often that just an instrumental piece can give me chills and literally almost bring me to tears…but Paramore did that to me in the second half of this song. Williams only sings a handful of verses before the song swells into this beautiful four minutes of guitar, bass and drums that makes you feel so deeply. It’s the kind of music that you don’t think about so much as you just move to; it is Paramore at their very finest. Davis and York pour their souls into this song and it shows. This is the song that restored Paramore as a band to me.

Well done, old friends. Well done.