IN REVIEW: OUR GREATEST AMERICAN HERO, ROBERT DE NIRO - SPOKENWORDS

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photos courtesy of Spokenwords.

Quickly growing larger than their pool of emo collaborators, Spokenwords is one of my favorite bands exploding their way out of Arizona's primordial screamo revival pool. Young and uninterrupted, tinged with blasting metalcore breakdowns and a dedication for nothing if not to create and support good, real music, they are pure and awesome. Their debut full length, Our Greatest American Hero, Robert De Niro is just as uncompromising as their will and as drilling as their constant, ambitious pulse. The album's production is rough, minimalist, and inconsistent in some places, yet still driven by anxious restlessness and the immediacy in a need to be heard.


Intro starts in solemn, gutting lows in Yonah's bloody mess of spoken words (sic) and finishes in Rece's chugging porn complete in Otto's every snare-smattering stab. A sticky goo of feedback traces around every rough edge between tracks and transitions. 

Purple Belt is THE proper first track choice. Otto's slippery kick pattern cuts into Rece's dissonant, itching riffs and Yonah's ogre screams like exhumed hatred. It's more of a breakdown than a song intro, but catches every ear with fish hook-accuracy and just as fleshy disregard for comfortability. It's probably my favorite on the album--short, diverse, and aching across every dithering and scream-drenched passage. 

Now you've shown youre true character (sic) is Otto's shining little moment--front and center, he's sprinkling little taps upon the cymbals like a wizard with unclear trajectory and purpose against Coop's shaking, impossibly low bass. Rece is endlessly hooky, hanging onto every riff with what feels like pop sensibility, only using the primitive tools of nostalgic distortion, snuffed and squeaking feedback, and post-hardcore-ish swipes of bubbling chords. Every song is only every growing. 


Me and Eduardo smoked evil wizzard weed is slower, and reflects even more the sludging metalcore influence which they infuse with their own breed of screaming emo. Yonah's voice here is diverse--harsh changes against the pumping rhythm of Coop's bubbling bass. As the tempo speeds so does the anticipating heart of every impatient listener, brutal and simply awesome.

Interlude 1 is a sweet homage to the origins of emo. Simple, short, and mostly clean, it puts an emphasis on the guitars, phasing between tune and giving Yonah's traveling voice something to hold onto as it yearns for anything. The ending stands out and boasts a short passage of sampling and delays as it crescendos into the record's next half.


As the birds flew begins in something closer to a nugaze cadence (think Nothing) before returning to form with Yonah's signature scream-belting. Its lack of a hook forces it into repetition, being one of the longer tracks on the album. Still, Otto's impressive fills and crescendos in the song's building bridge, coupled with Yonah's most memorable performance on the album, makes up for it by the song's conclusion.

Flip the switch is a little hidden secret weapon hiding right behind the album's closer. Its unbelievably heavy chorus is somewhat underplayed by its production, but is undeniably intense. Seeing this live in Vegas was neck-breaking. Rece's riffs are hateful and masterful in their manipulation of simplicity. Yonah's callout also goes crazy in opposition to his demonic chanting over every ridiculous riff.

Ps I love you is so truthfully emo. Promises to stay by "your side for one last time" between Rece's crying chords and Otto's driving drumming, hugged by Coop's low-fucked bass... It's one of the tightest tracks on the album, every single stroke of string and smack of toms perfectly in tune to one another. It's a love letter to the self, to mothers, to pain, and a powerful closer, ending only in the whispers of condolence in conclusion.


I'm unbelievably excited for what is to come for Lake Havasu's own Spokenwords. After a promising debut, exploring a formidable level of influences over such a relatively short lifespan, they can only refine their sound, their playing, and releases. Despite the diversity of their influences and the sound itself, they are still wholly Spokenwords without compare. Addicted to meat-headed crunches and melodic sensibility, their dichotomy is potent and their trajectory primed. 

7/10


-Foster






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