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Old 04-05-2006, 11:09 AM   #127
Salvage Guy
Yelsent better be a fucking Christian
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Join Date: May 2002
Location: Edinburgh, UK
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Song : I Am What You Are

Artist : Eden Maine

Album: To You The First Star

Genre : Hardcore with a dabble of experimental

Released : 2005

Song Length : 5:40

Why You Like It: I just bought the album about a week ago and this, for me, was the most appropriate track I've heard in a long time to cater to my ear of heavy stuff. It kicks in with an Everytime I Die-esque guitar, then introduces their own brand of noise with a subtle interweaving guitar, playing round snare heavy, rhythmically staggering drums and always an intelligent bassline (more notably, however, on Do Not Move A Muscle, Do Not Say A Word track 7). It takes a little while to get used to Adam Symonds' scream.

The first minute of the song shows you pretty much what you're going to hear in smaller doses (start to 0.24, then 0.24 to 0.39) and seamlessly drifts back to the main heavier segment of the song (with a very simple but beastly riff/double bass part from 1.41, slowly regressing back into the main 'harmony'). Then at ...

Best Bit :... (02.43), wow. The term 'melodic' or even 'ambient' of recent memory concerning any kind of 'core' is so overused and really quite an overstated description of generic acousticy parts to some tripy (pr. try-pee) Emo or metalcore song. EM aren't either however and I use the term 'melodic' quite aptly.

This is the sound of Angels breathing (a cello really but what's the difference?) as they impatiently tap on their pedestals in a pseudo-tribal tom-beat over the return of the weaving guitar (1 string played), staying heavy enough to be recognised as close to their genre. Occasionally it sounds like it will crescendo into an almighty climax but the noise really stays on the level and it's the anticipation of what's to follow that makes one think so. Then there's the climax, a repeat of the simple guitar riff/double bass accenting then a quick 1-2-3 to finish.

Song lyrics (as they are quite short):

The line of broken streetlights lit a faint shadow.
And smoke hung in the air like a welcome note to an old friend.
Tonight it seemed that even the blackest of hearts could grow,
and that morning was a distant memory.
So let's free this poisoned land,
burn it down like a house of cards.
Before the last thread disappears, the last memory erased.
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