Brand New
The Devil And God Are Raging Inside Me

THE REVIEW

Formed in 2000 and hailing from Long Island, New York, Brand New are a quartet on their third album, "The Devil And God Are Raging Inside Me," a work in which the initial emo roots have evolved into an intriguing and anguished indie rock that in many ways reminds us of the grunge epic that developed more than twenty years ago.

The combo consists of drummer Brian Lane, Garrett Tierney on bass, Vin Accardi on guitar, and Jesse Lacey on vocals, second guitar, and lyrics.

The strong point of the group is indeed the singer, possessing a voice that resembles Morrisey when staying on lower registers, and very similar to Omar Rodriguez of Mars Volta when he has to scream according to the emo styles.

The album kicks off strongly with "Sowing Season (Yeah)" featuring a Nirvana school chorus around which melancholic yet sharp guitar riffs revolve, leading the dance now through more meditative, now tumultuous moments. The verses also denote a clear inner turmoil: "...I am not your friend...I am not your lover...I am not your family...".

"Millstone" slows down the pace and boasts a catchy and "lilting" chorus; the same tones are maintained in the ballad "Jesus Christ," with its soothing vocals, where the singer questions faith and existence with irony more than devotion ("...Jesus Christ, I’m alone again...So what did you do those three days you were dead?...because this problem's gonna last more than the weekend...").

We then arrive at one of the album's peaks: "Degausser," which owes much of its beauty to the lesson imparted (and here well assimilated) by At The Drive In from "Relationship Of Command."

Another pinnacle, in my view, is "Not The Sun," which markedly recalls the best of Bush’s debut album (revisit "Sixteen Stone," one of the few essential post-grunge albums).

Before it, we had the addition of the chilling instrumental-like "Welcome To Bangkok," rich with electronic insertions that then give way to rising, screeching screams, the ideal soundtrack for a hypothetical modern horror.

The album concludes with four tracks slightly inferior to the first eight, but still above average.

The slow and psychedelic "Luca," which is enhanced at the end with an explosion of sounds, and the almost-instrumental "Untitled," brief and atmospheric, concluding with the cheerful emo-pop ride "The Archer’s Bows Are Broken" (the word "Blink 182" comes to mind) and the closing "Handcuffs" with a small acoustic arpeggio in the style of Eels.

In conclusion, each listen to this work leaves an ever-greater sensation of having discovered a little gem of modern rock, which allows me to postpone the death of a musical genre that many would unfortunately declare dead, but that it is not, as long as you’re always ready to lend an ear...to "something new" ("Brand New," to be precise).