Review Summary: Blindboss' debut is an excellent album that colors outside the lines of modern rock music. The album blends aspects of (pop-)punk, hardcore, metal and rock and roll in a way that is imminently satisfying.
From its outset, Blindboss’ first album, Our Tribe, lures one into a false sense of security.
In an album that is characterized by controlled chaos and skillful genre-blending, the opening song, “Roman Coke,” is pure, drug-fueled, rock and roll. The song is a playful, rhythmic opener and the aggressive tone the verse sets quickly transitions into a catchy and inviting pop-punk hook. The lyrics are surprisingly introspective given the vibe of the song and the subject matter.
“Roman Coke” is paired nicely with the following track, “Newport Douche,” which amplifies the playfulness of its predecessor. The combination of these two songs set a misleading tone for the album and, were one to wager, one could bet these would be the album’s “hits.”
From the bedrock of the first two songs, the album sets a different tone, equally foundational for what’s to come. The following songs, the perfunctory “Ego Echo” and the late ‘90s sounding punk song “R.A.L.U.” satirize and critique very modern topics and demonstrate an extreme proficiency in punk that the first two tracks only hinted at.
In the following songs, “Matriarch” and “Jaguar’s Creed,” Blindboss’ uncanny ability to draw on disparate and variegated genres is fully displayed. “Matriarch,” the longest and arguably most emotional song on the album, opens with a section that draws upon modern indie music, before happily marrying this tone with punk and even some solo acoustic guitar. There is also a cello which appears because, well, of course there is a ***ing cello.
“Jaguar’s Creed,” which is my personal favorite track, takes the foundational aspects of the album thus far and pushes these elements to their furthest possible conclusions. This song exemplifies what Blindboss appears to be about. It’s as though the song, and the album as a whole, tricks one into straying from one’s comfort zone: So, you like rock, how about some pop-punk? If you’re cool with that, how about some hardcore? By the time the listener gets to “Jaguar’s Creed,” it’s no longer a question, and the pop-punk candy of the earlier songs has been laced with cyanide bordering on grindcore. There is a meta aspect to this song in the playfully disingenuous line “an apology is owed for leading you down a dark path,” which seems to answer the listener’s question—how the *** did I get here?
At this point, the album has shown what extremes it is willing to go to. In the following tracks, the listener finds a brief moment of respite in the vibrant pop-punk song “Toad,” which is now permitted to indulge in a few intense, heavy moments with impunity. Likewise, the following track, “Kelsey Rae,” starts as an ironic exemplar of pining pop-punk love before descending into aggressive hardcore. “Bug’s Log” comes out the gate swinging with some familiar hardcore sounds and takes the opposite route, transitioning from hardcore into a pleasing pop-punk hook.
This entire section of the album is an exercise in controlling the chaotic, yet seamless, transitions between genres, and one finds oneself fearing that the whole endeavor is going to come off the rails. Narrowly avoiding this fate, the penultimate distillation of the form can be found on the title track, “Our Tribe,” which is perfectly comfortable navigating the heavier side of Blindboss. This is paired nicely with “Roy,” a much livelier song in which the tension between the rock, punk and metal aspects of the album is palpable.
The closing song, “Shade Struck,” almost feels like a bonus track—in spite of the satisfying lyrics rounding out the close of the album—because it, somehow, makes a departure from the previous genres and infuses a hearty dose of ska into the mix. As with the cello section before, this forces the listener to think: of course there’s a ***ing ska part. It’s really something that one doesn’t know is missing from the album until it is heard.
Our Tribe is a phenomenal album for anyone bored of the militantly rigid structures inherent in the various schisms in rock. Fittingly, Our Tribe disposes of the tribalism and purity tests within modern rock music and fluidly moves between various sub-genres without fear. Our Tribe is a reminder that rock, itself, is one big tribe and there is no reason for such immutable borders between its constituent members.
