Robyn Writes

Midday Committee – I’m Sure Someone Mentioned A Cheque [EP]

Portsmouth pop-punkers Midday Committee released I’m Sure Someone Mentioned A Cheque last July, and are heading back to the studio this summer in order to record a follow up record. This being their second EP, I’m Sure… is a sixteen minute burst of sunshine that flew under the radar when it should have been dominating the record stores. From the first twiddly bars of ‘This Job Has Its Ups And Downs’, it’s clear that we’re in for a lot of fun. Rich Sanders’ vocals are beautiful, and sound even better backed up by Keiran Heath, and that’s the case throughout the EP. ‘Chivalry’s Dead, Sugar!’ has vocal lines that soar like a majestic eagle, as well as some cheeky acoustic guitar punctuating throughout just to keep you on your toes. Although these tracks are a lot of fun, it’s ‘We Have A Particular Set Of Skills’ that really shows the weight these guys can pull. Breaking out all the tools in their arsenal – those sublime vocals, well placed gang shouts, inspiring lyrics, perfect melodies and infectious basslines to say the least – Midday Committee have written a guaranteed hit, perfect for the stage. Latest single, ‘Starry Eyes’ has a chorus that was made for singing along to, preferably in the car on the way to the beach (and probably in a country with a bit more sun than we’ll be getting). It’s the weakest song on the EP – it goes on a bit longer than it needs to – but it’s still tons of fun and showcases the rhythm section at its best.

Admittedly, Midday Committee completely play it by the book. This is pretty much pop-punk 101 in a nutshell. However, that doesn’t mean that it’s not a shining example of the best of the genre. So next time the sun shines long enough for a BBQ, crack open a cold one and get jamming this in preparation for the next record.

4 out of 5 high fives!

Empire – Shedding Skin

I don’t usually think of North Carolina when I think of melodic hardcore bands. From my position in the verdant English countryside, my view of America and its musical hotspots is largely geared towards the coasts, and that’s usually with regards to happier, bouncier stuff. This kind of bleak, desolate hardcore is usually Canada’s domain, or crops up from Scandinavia; cold, harsh places for cold, harsh music. But then in these times of austerity, fear and uncertainty, the fire that fuels tracks like these can ignite anywhere, and Empire, hailing from Raleigh, NC, have made a record that embodies that feeling effortlessly.

‘Set In Stone’ immediately creates the right atmosphere for the rest of the EP. Minor tones and crashing rhythms invoke a bleak sonic landscape. Every phrase to pass vocalist Ben Daughtry’s lips feels pained but not fragile and his half screamed, half shouted tone provides the perfect overlay for the rest of the track. It’s a fairly slow affair though, something which ‘Moore Square Station’ and ‘Minour’ alleviate with more frantic and intense riffs. The tone in the vocals begins to shift to something far more aggressive, and in ‘Minour’ especially, the guitar lines tread the line carefully between moments of deep angst and melancholic beauty while demonstrating Preston Mitchum’s immense control. ‘…And I Am Drawing Down’ has a particularly devastating feel to it, the rhythm section in particular providing a solid and crushing backbone. Final track, ‘The Iconoclast’ sounds as if it’s directly a part of its predecessor; there’s not enough of a division, but the two tracks would probably have worked very well as one whole, considering how short each track on the EP actually is – none clock in at over three minutes. Nevertheless, Empire play with some clever effects here and the constant refrain of “saying goodbye” rearing its head throughout is completely haunting.

Shedding Skin shows a great deal of promise. Empire have created a tight, emotionally involving and impressive record that is bound to thrill fans of Defeater, Circa Survive et al, but steps away from their legacy to forge something entirely their own.

4 out of 5 high fives!

The Darlington Sessions


(click to be taken to Cats Aye Records’ bandcamp)

The Darlington Sessions is truly a lovely little surprise. Recorded at the tail end of last year at Darlington Road Studios, it’s nine tracks of pure acoustic bliss from some of the UK’s greatest punk rock performers at the moment; Roo Pescod (Bangers), Giles Bidder (Great Cynics) and Kelly Kemp (Livers and Lungs). Each performer contributed a couple of their own tracks and the rest were worked on collaboratively; at least, that’s what it says on the tin. Everyone lends a hand and makes appearances on the tracks throughout. Although each of the ‘solo’ tracks have their own distinct style, you can definitely feel the presence of the others and the rest of the musicians who have helped them out in the studio and along the way. It’s precisely that feeling of community that makes The Darlington Sessions so wonderful. Take Bidder’s ‘My Babylonian Wheelie Board’ – an ode to the simple joys of skateboarding. Without Pescod’s gruff rasp and Kemp’s soft tones, it’d feel as empty as the landscape it describes. Instead, it takes on the warmth of a summer evening on the South Coast. Great stuff.

Much like in their main projects, each one of these little gems has a story to tell. Most tracks are short – all less than three minutes – but that’s ample time for a brief snapshot into a troubled relationship, a confession of hometown blues or a rousing affirmation of punk rock camaraderie. There’s plenty of lyrics that resonate deep within your core and put a smile on your face at the same time, like Kemp’s charming line about becoming a scratchcard millionaire in ‘Homes and Castles’, and Pescod’s fantasies of smashing up H&M in ‘Hammerwhammer’. There’s a certain honesty to the whole affair; not one that’s missing in their full-time bands, but one that’s amplified through the really beautiful simplicity of the tracks at hand. There’s a distinctly British voice throughout too, one that’s often lacking but sorely needed in our alternative music scene today, but it wouldn’t be alienating to an international audience at all – these are songs about the kinds of things we all go through at some point.

Although each track is as well constructed as you’d expect, there’s a huge sense of play that runs abound throughout the sessions. Tracks like ‘Under The Table’ utilise dark and discordant rhythms and violins and pianos add extra, understated layers to really bring out the potential in songs such as ‘Bedtimes’ and ‘Earth Abides’. The Darlington Sessions are fun, born out of good times and good hangs, and it just so happens that good musicianship comes into to mix as well. If that’s not worth four of your English pounds, then I don’t know what is.

4.5 out of 5 high fives!

Count To Four – Between Two Cities

It’s been well documented that on TwoBeatsOff, we’re big fans of the beard. To this day, the number one search string that leads you to our website is ‘punk rock beards’, which links you to the page of ours that gets the most hits – this top ten article I did on a presumably dull afternoon when I was 18. And if you like beards, then it stands to reason that you’ll like Count To Four, because they cram a ridiculous amount of beard references into their lyrics. The guys themselves range from the sexy five o’ clock shadow to the standard-yet-awesome beard punk grizzle. And that’s kind of how their debut, Between Two Cities, feels – ranging between playful, almost flirty pop-punk licks to deeper notions of troubled hearts.

Opener ‘I Hope Not’ is as good an indicator of this as any. Filled with clever puns (and those all important beard gags) as well as devastatingly catchy verses, it’s sweeter than a slice of Victoria sponge. Beneath all the bouncy riffs though, it’s a journey of self realisation; an affirmation that in fact, that one girl might not be life or death after all, and that’s okay. Count To Four continue to charm and disarm throughout the rest of the album. Tracks like ‘Plastic Dinosaurs’ and ‘Tear It Apart’ are all about growing up and getting out without losing sense of yourself, all layered over with ridiculously speedy palm mutes and pounding drums. It never really lets up, either. Sure, there’s tracks like ‘Get Into It’, which feels far more intimate due to the lyrics and a slower tempo, but they still provide a massive rush and provoke enormous grins. And yet, Count To Four are perhaps at their best when they throw down to some minor chords. ‘My M.O’, an ethics driven plea, is the most impassioned song on the album, and it’s filled with wonderful touches like a xylophone in the bridge and unexpected breakdowns. Not to mention that’s overlooking the fact that it’s the track where Mike Hayden’s vocals break from their usually measured and dulcet tones to a desperate and damning shout – and it works.

If there is any fault with Between Two Cities, it’s that the band don’t take a risk when they really should, and while for the most part, what they’ve got there is excellent, there’s a couple of tracks that could benefit from taking the plunge. For example, ‘Bottles and Books’, the closer, tries to deliver a similar kind of “you suck and I’m okay without you” effect as some of the earlier songs but nowhere near as well, perhaps due to a lack of ‘My M.O’ style passion coming through the vocals.

It’s very clear where Count To Four pull their influences from – there’s a strong sense of that early 2000s Drive-Thru kind of sound throughout – but Between Two Cities still sounds totally fresh. If you like your pop-punk with an old school feel but with a revived sense of reckless abandon and twenty-something feels, then Count To Four are the band for you. And beards, man. Beards.

4 out of 5 high fives!

So, why the name change, Ripper?

Recently, I’ve been mulling over my on-screen pseudonym. I’ve already taken it out of my Twitter profile. I’ve been wondering whether I really needed it, especially when most of my writers hadn’t opted for one. We all display our full names on the about page anyway. So, I was in a bit of a quandary, but it was only when I had my mum read over my CV and go ‘ooh, that sounds a bit flaky, I’d take that out’ that I realised that it wasn’t really necessary any more.

When I made this site, back in 2008, Facebook was only just becoming a thing. Nobody used their real name online for anything. The internet was full of dark and mysterious strangers and hiding your true identity gave you a platform to talk about anything you wanted. We were never spewing vitriolic hate on here, but all of the original team were female. Even though it was just five years ago, nobody wanted to listen to what girls had to say about heavy music. So we all hid behind silly usernames. I picked mine after a Buffy marathon – it was Giles’ nickname when he was at university and dabbling in the occult. Others had song names, or witty puns. They were all ways of giving ourselves a voice.

Now I’m 22 years old and my voice is pretty loud. I’m still keeping the email address for the time being until I can hook up a new one to my accounts and clear some of the correspondence on it. And this is just step one in TBO’s latest reinvention. We’ll be looking shit hot by the end of the summer.

xoxo – Robyn