Considering Die Young (TX) has spent several years releasing records, enduring a legal issue surrounding their band name, and touring some relatively exotic parts of the globe -- in addition to the States -- it's surprising that Graven Images is my first exposure to the hardcore act. While I'm a bit disappointed that no one ever slapped me and demanded I listen to the band -- after all, this is my kind of stuff -- in the past, it's better late than never. Way better.
Die Young couldn't have picked a stronger vehicle for their thought-provoking messages than bitter, unforgiving hardcore. Forgoing metallic breakdowns and done-before two-step parts, the band uses a bulky bass presence, super-energetic chord progressions and blazing drumming to create a largely unmatched feeling of energy and urgency. Put simply, the band commands attention. Hell, singer The Rev. White Devil could be screaming and shouting about the most trivial of topics, but it would still sound important and make listeners want to pay attention. Graven Images is dense and chunky like a Sick of It All record, dark and enraged like a Ringworm effort, and loaded with Die Young's own personality. From the unforgettable sing-alongs -- which, by the way, don't sound at all artificial -- to the subtle melodies and mid-paced breaks, the record incorporates a bunch of devices to distinguish itself. Even the thick, gritty production helps bring things to life.
Just as Graven Images is sonically urgent and unforgiving, so too are the record's lyrics. The Rev. White Devil deals blow after blow -- in a smart, poignant fashion, mind you -- to corruption, whether it stems from corporate mindsets, government or organized religion, our current administration's imperialist nature, and the cold, far-reaching effects of lives spent focused on the American dreams of wealth and progress. While most everything The Rev. White Devil says is socio-political at heart, he brings a personal connection, vibrant imagery and persuasive points to the mix, making the songs more chilling and affecting than the typical "fuck you" anthem. Even in the straightforward "To Forget Civilization," his deeply personal touch raises goosebumps:
How I long to be at peace,
To be absolved through eternal sleep
When I die, set me free from the lies
Of this culture you call civilized
Entire lives spent longing for escape
As we grind ourselves into early graves
For precious progress we lay this world to waste
Day by day, the violence is ingrained
There are, of course, moments of encouragement; "Carried by Visions" explains why Die Young carries on (We find no peace at home so we shave our heads and take to the road. Carried by four wheels and visions of a better life outside the walls. Beyond the fucking lies Of this dead-end life ."). "Become the Change" is a denial of the forces that push people into lines and normalcy, and the last song, "Reiteration (The Message)," is a spirited, uplifting call to the band's audience ("It's time to revive the idea, rekindle the spirit that brought us here. To live in silence is to live in fear, so I'll speak my mind loud and clear. This voice could be the spark to ignite the (silent masses). Let us all behold each voice full of passion.").
Accompanying each of their songs with a brief quotation from a respected author, philosopher or thinker of some sort, it's clear that, on every level, Die Young has a deep passion for their craft. That's the sort of spirit that's made for good, effective hardcore, metal and punk rock since each genre's early beginnings, and I'm damn pleased that Die Young is carrying it well into the 2000s.
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