Renae – All Hell Follows

Illinois post hardcore group Renae understands the human condition –demonstrating a deeper sensitivity in five tracks than many could in five albums.  Too many bands simply shout, groan and whine because of their genre, not because the effect provides a purpose and empowers their communication.  For this reason, Renae’s debut, And Hell Follows, is a refreshingly sound exercise in meaningful expression.  Each boisterous outburst and inquisitive low feels right in place on this attention peaking concept album.

First off, the band takes advantage of the first few lines and notes by inviting listeners to parallel an experience similar to that of the album’s unwitting protagonist.  As dampened, lone chords slowly seep in and vocalist Stephen Rosborough begins questioning place and purpose in a tone akin to Saves The Day, they take advantage of that brief moment when new listeners are also ultimately searching for answers and forming an initial impression.  So when the fineness breaks down after the first minute and Rosborough unexpectedly explodes into a screamo fueled rage (think Thrice’s hardcore-emo balancing act) about a lack of understanding, it’s a little aggravating because what listeners once thought was, is no more.  Instead they’re forced to reform their schema within but a few moments.  And despite And Hell Follows’fleeting cryptic messages, this jarring transition and stylistic trickery perfectly mirrors the concept of watching the world, as you know it, collapse around you.

From here, listeners come to see that hope for normalcy cannot be.  Each track furthers this doomed descent, even sharing each name with an apocalyptic horseman, all the while shifting between clean and dissonant styles with a targeted purpose.  Again, it’s tough to know exactly what they speak of, but their use of dark imagery establishes a close empathy.  For example, on “War,” the imagery of a nameless child walking through his house at night, unresponsive to his inquiries, drives him to a maddening edge, and when coupled with his feverous calls, one of true emotive helplessness at the mercy of his own demons.  And when the final track, “Death,” plays its course in haunting clarity, it echoes their listeners’ exhaustion, giving a moment of reflective interpretation and place for sustained wonderment.

A lot of screamo gets lost on me because bands just assume that everyone can readily jump into and share their feelings of despair.  But unless you’re experiencing some seriously traumatic issues, it’s not that easy.  For this, I applaud Renae’s openness at taking the steps to invite in and then anger listeners.  By taking advantage of and understanding how listeners will react to their outbursts, listeners can actually slide into a position of empathy, rather than merely looking from the outside in.  A journey worth being part of, and not just listening to.