The Blackout Pact – Hello Sailor

When I first saw The Blackout Pact‘s Hello Sailor, I immediately let out an internal moan. Just looking at the artwork, I immediately thought I’d be hearing some acoustic blues/country type of thing soon. For some reason, I thought of Johnny Cash, but after a flipped the disc over and looked at the back cover, I was suddenly reminded of who these six guys from Denver were. See, right there on the back was written, in nice bold letters, “Produced By Geoff Rickly” – and since the last CD he produced was My Chemical Romance‘s debut, I knew this one had to be the band he had discovered on a New York street corner selling hot dogs. And well, if you are able to attract the attention of someone like Geoff Rickly selling hot dogs, you know the band’s doing something right. So I quickly threw it in, and let’s just say this: my initial reaction about these guys behind some sort of acoustic country act was far from the truth.

In fact, Hello Sailor is thirty minutes of in your face punk rock anthems. The songs are quick and rough – Rickly produced it well. The vocals are harsh, snotty and sound like they are coming from someone who’s been drinking and smoking for the past twenty years. It’s dirty, gritty, heart-felt punk rock. It comes through as sincere and fun, not forced or produced. The shouting backup choruses are strong and powerful, after a few listens you find yourself shouting along and punching your fist in the air along with them.

It’s weird though, after nine tracks of blistering punk rock, you don’t think The Blackout Pact would be able to end the album off in a way fitting the album – but they do. And they blow any expectations way out of the water with their closer, Lapis Lazuli. Anyone who says the band doesn’t know who to write a moving song, obviously haven’t heard this. Because with Lapis Lazuli, they are able to go from the fast paced onslaught that was the first nine songs to this slow moving, melodic closer. It’s smoother and softer and the vocals transform from the gritty, dirty vocals of before to soothing, melodic, extremely quiet singing on here. Then, they end it all of by kicking into a sing along chant of “It’ll never be the same” – and really, you couldn’t end the album any better.

Maybe Rickly should go to a few more hot dog stands, because then he may find some more bands like The Blackout Pact. And although this is their debut, I’m sure it won’t be the last you’ll hear of them.