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The Earth Is Not a Cold Dead Place

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Explosions In The Sky

 
The Earth Is Not a Cold Dead Place
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  • We Say...

    et 'em up, knock 'em down. If what Explosions in the Sky do is so easy, though, why haven't there been a raft of imitators cashing in on crescendo-core? Here's a thought: it ain't that easy after all. Despite what sounds like an endless build-to-ecstatic-release formula, EITS's The Earth Is Not a Cold Dead Place is a masterpiece of restraint and, believe it or not, subtlety.

    Whereas on the group's second album, Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Die, Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Live Forever, the quartet seemed to be racing headlong towards the pay-off, on The Earth the group is content to wander a bit, survey the terrain and come at those celebratory moments from odder angles. "Your Hand in Mine" and "Six Days at the Bottom of the Ocean" almost glide in parts, their themes rolling along a manner that might be described as funky (a term that can only be brought out here because the rest of The Earth is so unrelentingly stiff). And the first section of "First Breath After Coma" doesn't even have that moment where everything seems to explode at once.

    The EITS boys are hyper-aware of their shtick and are just as interested in subverting it. And perhaps that's why Friday Night Lights, the movie and television show, came calling. Perfect for soundtracking the dull menace of high school — where everything seems a bit more epic than it actually is — The Earth was a backdrop par excellence for a dusty Texas town obsessed by football. Even if the group who made it — and the majority of the listeners who bought it — were the ones getting beat up by those same football players years ago.

  • They Say...

    Explosions in the Sky's second effort takes a more studied, even lush approach to the literate chaos of their 2001 debut. But put on your sad sack thinking cap now, because Earth Is Not a Cold Dead Place is a contemplative and heady rush of masterful melancholia. Its six songs are multi-minute, slow motion workouts of gentle electric guitar plucks and subtle/sudden washes of percussion -- they're still instrumental, but as lyrical as anything in the indie rock universe. "Only Moment We Were Alone" turns on a simple, melancholy guitar figure, the drums shifting from insistent catch-up mode to a studied march built to introduce the next layered crescendo. Explosions in the Sky doesn't shift as suddenly or jarringly on Earth Is Not a Cold Dead Place; the quartet has applied more structural predictability this time out, but is still quick about setting the sad butterflies in your stomach to fluttering. "Memorial" is the album's meditative heart. It begins so quietly, reduced to brittle landscapes of tone. Lightly chiming guitars drift in, like the echoes of church bells off in narrow city streets. Then, like each of the album's movements, it surges forward in a rush, like the overtures of Sonic Youth separated, dried, and ultimately lengthened in the blistering Texas sun. The final blast of distortion and staccato drumming is Earth at full bittersweet bluster. "Your Hand in Mine" ends things as they began, with a pair of determined guitars picking out a melody that's both pretty and pretty damn heartbreaking.

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