Review Summary: Endearingly unpolished little release from a group of hometown heroes that never really got a chance to shine
The eponymous 7 inch that would be Eldritch Anisette’s only physical contribution to the emo scene is an unassuming release; elements of post-hardcore, Midwest emo and pop-punk blended into a charming, if predictable array of self-consciously awkward harmonies, anthemic refrains and vocals that more than make up for in passion what they lack in technical ability. Frontwoman Courtney Miller is the source of much of the bands personality, belting out songs of struggle and affirmation with quavering intensity and youthful naivety. Her voice encapsulates much of what makes good emo so
good, intense and warm, unpolished and vulnerable, drawing catharsis from unbridled expression. The music on Eldritch Anisette follows suit, expressive, vibrant and ramshackle, never straying from the formula adhered to by dozens of local emo groups in the late 90s. That adherence to a familiar, comfortable, well-worn formula could be a source of enjoyment in itself. There’s a certain sense of nostalgia for anyone who remembers sneaking cheap beers and hitting the local shows, a sense of community and of hope for greater things for a bunch of talented musicians who probably won’t ever be heard beyond the next county. Beyond that nostalgia, there’s charm to Eldritch Anisette, found in the passion and intensity of both band and singer, but ultimately it’s only slightly more memorable than any other obscure emo release of the late 90s.
