letlive. – Fake History

With the release of their new album, Fake History, critics have heralded letlive. as the crest of a new wave of post-hardcore – the next great evolution in a genre without rules.  As someone who thought they “got” the whole post-hardcore thing, I’m feeling like the odd man out.

Fake History didn’t profoundly move me after my first listen the way it seemed to drop others’ jaws in awe.  There was certainly brow raising moments throughout, but at the same time nothing to render me speechless.  At the most, letlive. modernizes and expands on post-hardcore inspirations from bands from the later half of the 00’s, positioning them as an artist more in tune with a broader range of current sounds.  They do what they do well, but I’m at a loss for describing exactly what makes letlive., well, letlive.

From what I can discern, Fake History’s biggest success is its unsettled and evolving nature.  Letlive. play out like the lovechild of an orgy of Latin rock, prog rock, screamo, metalcore, post-punk, and commercial alternative.  They never tie themselves down to any one sound wave for more than a chorus or verse, altering inflection with each passing style.  “The Sick, Sick, 6.8 Billion” serve an effective example of blending several extremes.  Jason Aalon Butler’s rage inducing cries align with the hard, metalcore riffs and Anthony Rivera’s thumping drums, elevating and switching on a dime to clean, Coheed & Cambria vocals and exotic Latin percussion.  The Latin flavour solidifies itself in “Enemigos/Enemies” with a foreign language opening verse and faint undertone.

Anger and aggression fuel the majority of Butler’s outbursts (a personal favourite being the “Casino Columbus” line “stick your finger down the throat of your freedoms and I’ll purge them out”), but fear and redemption also rear their heads.  For example, “Muther” introduces episodes of insecurity a la early Brand New and Thrice, evolving into a jazzy piano piece on par with Trophy Scars’.  “Day 54” slows to a crawl, sweating emotion through pours in anguish like La Dispute.

But interspersed between these spontaneous strengths rest predictable moments impeding prolonged progress.  Songs like “Hollywood, And She Did” teeter back and forth between brilliance and normalcy as alternative-radio segments punctuate otherwise explosive passages.  Such times defuse the energy of these otherwise fixating pathways, breaking up song and album momentum – creating a choppy sense of progression and diluting unique strengths as they emerge.

While Fake History rises above many modernized attempts at post-hardcore, there’s something keeping me from immersing myself in each line.  It might be the sense of sensationalism letlive. emits – like a cast so caught up on performance art that they lose focus of their narrative.  There are so many great moments along the way, but never enough time to fully appreciate each.  Consequently, I haven’t found Fake History to be the crowning sum of its parts the way many claim.  I’ve enjoyed each listen, but never felt compelled to press repeat come the end of the disc.