Alexisonfire
Alexisonfire

THE REVIEW

Two high school students from a Catholic school facing off in a knife fight. An image that marks the loss of any semblance of grace, defined by an intrinsically feral unruliness.

Such a description, suggested by the band and reinforced by the cover, finds perfect synthesis in the album’s sound. Alexisonfire, the self-titled debut from the Canadian band comprised of George Pettit (vocals), Dallas Green (rhythm guitar and vocals), Wade MacNeil (lead guitar), Chris Steele (bass), and Jesse Ingelevics (drums), stands as the example of a release as unruly as it is deeply melancholic, to the point of distinguishing itself through its uniqueness.

The record opens with the slow and evocative tapping of "“.44 Caliber Love Letter”," buoyed by the supporting melody of the second guitar and complimented by the entrance of a measured rhythmic section that leads into the first verse. The vocal part by George Pettit stands out for its use of a high-tension laryngeal vocal fry, serving a pronounced expressive and emotional urgency, counterbalanced by the clean melodic lines sung by Dallas Green in an interplay that constitutes the band’s stylistic hallmark. The transition between the first and second verse is delivered through a succession of riffs that serve as a real bridge. What emerges is a compositional dimension that abandons the canonical song structure, amplifying the feeling of organized chaos that pervades the entire record.

“Counterparts and Number Them” continues the assault with an opening riff running at a high BPM count, which fades into a verse where the alternation between the two vocalists forms the heart of the track.

The structure of the opening diptych, with the first track marked by a slow and progressive build-up and the second presenting heightened intensity, finds a counterpart in the structure of the tracklist, which mirrors this model, perfectly balancing tension with sonic release and emphasizing its live set nature.

From this perspective, the following “Adelleda” builds its intro methodically, culminating in a verse that explodes with all its vehemence in the ensuing reprise, ultimately closing with a piano outro.

“A Dagger Through the Heart of St. Angeles” intentionally serves as the counterpoint to the previous track with its sonic aggression. While not formally the case, this track effectively embodies the album’s thematic titletrack. This becomes clear from the very lyrics, which depict the friction between two adolescents, paradigmatically named Love and Freedom, within the stifling setting of a Catholic school.

“I'm trying hard to forget that cold October day, when Love challenged Freedom to a fist fight. Freedom looked victorious, but no one was prepared for what would happen on that baseball diamond when Love reached beneath her plaid jumper, pulled out a switchblade and drove it... directly through the heart of St. Angeles.”

A scenario so vivid it leaves a permanent mark on one’s visual memory.

The pace temporarily slows with “Polaroids Of Polar Bears”, whose evocative intro is entrusted to a guitar part played with a delay characterized by a high Rate and a balanced Feedback, resulting in an atmosphere reminiscent of a synthesizer. This blends perfectly with the entry of the rhythm section, highlighted by the melodic opening from Chris Steele’s bass. In its sinuous progression, the track moves from an aggressive verse to the build-up that introduces the enthralling outro, where the raw screaming of Pettit intertwines with the melody of Green, which becomes increasingly saturated as the Gain rises, closing what I consider the highest point of the entire album.

The tightrope-like impact, marked by continuous tempo changes, continues with “Waterwings”, followed by the atypical and melancholic love song “Where No One Knows” and the ferocious “The Kennedy Curse”.

Bringing the record to a close is the well-matched triptych of “Jubella”, enriched by driving odd-time stop and go sections, “Little Girls Pointing and Laughing”, which for the first time introduces a true chorus, and the conclusive final strike of “Pulmonary Archery”: a finale rich in emotional and energetic charge, and the definitive summation of the album’s sound.

With Alexisonfire, the band delivers a debut to posterity that shuns any form of linearity, building its identity on the constant friction between disorder and control.

Far from being a mere exercise in sonic aggression, the record displays a compositional awareness evident in the masterful management of the songs’ dynamics, making them extremely captivating.

A work that stands out for its ambivalent nature, wavering between brutality and post-adolescent melancholy, capable of transforming chaos into language and rage into form.