Between the Buried and Me
Automata I

Zot Review:

You know when you have impure thoughts and your member swells and hardens at the ecstatic visualization of sexual imagery? Well, this album has the same effect.

Nighttime/morning review:

In my work (basketball coach) it is normal to set goals and, consequently, visualize them and get into the mindset of reaching them with commitment. In the middle is the competitive season.

For the young ones, for the kids, the main goal is individual improvement and the "knowing how" within a collective (the team).

At the senior level, victory counts, and to achieve it, dreaming is not enough. You must have a great awareness, a sense of reality; improvement is necessary, even individually, but especially as a unit, as a play, and, nowadays, much more often as people in the ability to be supportive and mutual.

This evening the "dream" of reaching one of the seasonal goals for one of my senior groups shattered, and since I tend to get furious, I accompany myself with the concept album "Automata I" (awaiting "Automata II," scheduled for July) and help my frustration flow away by writing, very freely.

Even "Between the Buried and Me" think that the dream is so interesting that they made an album out of it, a work where human visionary fantasy is visualized and used in a media future by TV companies, making it available to other people in broadcast. A chimeric "The Truman Show," completely disregarding the "dreamer."

I got to know the North Carolina group in 2005 thanks to "Alaska," and in this latest work, there is a musical condensation of "Alaska," "The Great Misdirect" (2009), and the penultimate "Coma Ecliptic" (2015).

Is it a masterpiece for the genre? I don't know yet, because it will be necessary to wait for the "sister work" (the first one lasts 35' and when it ends, you viscerally ask for "a little more, I want more!"), but all the prerequisites are there.

The opener "Condamned to the Gallows" begins with an arpeggio from Paul Waggoner's guitar, then flows into an interchange of electric flashes and electronic injections. Tommy Rogers, as always, showcases an incredible talent moving from clean vocals to growls as if nothing happened. One of the few guttural chants I can audibly manage is his. It's understandable and varies the dynamics in a pretty unique way. I also perceived certain ideas from "System of a Down" in the melodic closing part.

"House Organ" starts like a crossbow with a fresh and powerful Blake Richardson on drums, a true icon of drumming, a break of trumpet (Jonathan Wiseman) and distorted trombone (Cameron MacManus), then Rogers' clean voice anticipates a fluid electric-electronic combination.

Two members stand out epically in "Yellow Eyes." The singing and futuristic keyboards of Rogers confess sheer violence and technical skill, it's a bit like watching a Malaysian tiger roar with a tutu while performing dressage moves, while in the second part of the track, the capable Richardson is beautifully complemented by the skill of Dan Briggs. Truly a bassist who has nothing to envy anyone. Powerful, dynamic, technical, he paints melodically casual phrases in B flat minor with impeccable taste, before opening up to quintuplets with jazz and funky nuances. The "powerchorded" ending of Dustie Waring accompanies Waggoner's solo to conclude with a symphonic final thematic doubling.

The track that surprised me the most is "Millions," which has a thousand harmonic, melodic, and rhythmic nuances, always maintaining a certain serenity, also exploring the low register in clean vocals, almost a "non-piece" of BTBAM, even for the duration of the track, but that sounds exactly like an indie track should sound when covered by Rogers & Company. "Millions fly overhead!"

"Gold Distance" introduces the closing track, the longest of the album: "Blot." It's the longest, but you want more of it, a bit of the leitmotif of the album, and it's fundamentally the only flaw I find in the track. It's a summary of the whole experience and musical talent of the Greensboro band. I'm not going to describe it musically, to avoid boring you, maybe I've already done it. Listen to it, close your eyes, let yourself be captivated by "the Blot in my eyes," then suddenly wake up, open and widen your eyes, and start banging your head hard against the wall, because this track literally drives you crazy.

The dream can sometimes be deceiving, making expectations too high, risking mortifying reality, but in this case, "Automata I" is a utopian reality. It exists. For real. And damn, enjoy it.