Memories

I got to listening to favourite, old, music tonight.

I will always waste endless hours defending The Juliana Theory from all allegations of boy bandishness, egotism and all other criticism of a mighty band.

I had to reorder a copy of Understand This is a Dream, 10 years after its release, and when I unwrapped it the first song I clicked to was the euphoric Duane Joseph with it's demand to "tell your mum you need the day off". It's naive, it's cynical, heart breaking and ultimately this was the best definition of emo in the late 90s.

And onward I pushed through the, what seems now, mushy and very Chris Carrabba sounding August in Bethany. A teenage tune of the finest angst which astute readers will notice is inspiration for more than this sentence. Right now, living on death row, it is beautiful. Singer Brett Detar's oh's and woo's become resplendent in the lightly strummed minor chords and when he pines "don't go" I begin to cry. I don't want to go. I'm quite happy just here, in my study at my grandfather's desk, headphones on, wife upstairs, books neatly stacked to my right, blinds down to keep the cold out.

Now onwards to the silly pop-punk of Musicbox Superhero. It's classic genre blending with Sunny Day Real Estate and Green Day heard in equal measure and, of course, Detar wading his way to the front. That point leads to the man and his ego. Sure he has one, seemingly larger than most in a similar position. But the problem was he knew how good he was and was mainly wondering why TJT never quite "made it". It finishes quietly, a moment of note for those critiquing the tracklisting.

That finish matters because of what comes next. Show me the Money hints at what is to come in the opening percussion missive before saddling up for a joyous major chord gallop through the meadows. It's a stupid song bordering on senseless but it doesn't hurt an album that only runs to 42 and a bit minutes.

For Evangeline positioned the band beyond pop-punk. Underplayed and under appreciated, it was a gorgeous, melodious portrait that worked as more than a mere introduction to Constellation. It wonders like someone gazing at shoes as it fades in until Neil Hebrank punches through and out. "The deepest embraces creation" mumbles Detar as Hebrank rumbles behind him, the others seem to be there but only in soul. The guitar feels as if it is strummed by a man worried of his fate, it repeats and repeats as if there were merit in it. "In one night you made me your own, in one hour you gave me away". It introduces the second act, Fiedler and Momper awake and back Detar into a corner he has to fight to come out of. And fight he does.

And now they tell us of plans to formalise the farewell. Two last gigs for those who weren't on the Autobahn in Germany when this beauty collapsed. They will play Emotion is Dead from start to finish, then some. It's 51 minutes, the gig will be 101 minutes fired by adrenaline and tears.

Seven Forty Seven might be the weak spot, if such a thing exists more than a decade on from trying to understand the dream. "Won't you come and take a holiday with me, I've asked you twice before.
"Please say yes, please say yes, please say yes.
"Won't you come with me, there's things to see."
If it's a weak spot it's not in the lyrics and by the crescendo at two minutes and 17 seconds any signs of flimsy work are forgotten.

"You're the bud before the flower unfurls into full bloom." It all rests on that word unfurl, a transitive verb of astronomical power. The Closest Thing is Detar coming on strong but I've always read it spiritually, "your star, it seems to shine above the rest ... the closest thing to perfect in a Hollywood suburb". I didn't understand that he could be talking about anything but God, anything but an almighty. It's worth taking note of Chad Alan's understated ways here. He bubbles to the fore when he needs to, falls behind for the most but no so far he is distant. And go back to the start: "the deepest embraces creation. If you were rude and shallow of reading you might declare it some sort of anti-abortion anthem. With its talk of being given away to The Angels and the hands you'll never hold. It is so very much more. It ends with those rarest of things, a justified fade out.

PS We'll Call you When we Get There is perhaps oddly placed unless you listen to the lyrics. It's an up-tempo pop-punk song that might just have well opened the album but it would have been ridiculous to have a song that uses that wonderful hardcore "gang vocal" to say we will "go".

Now for the pointer of things to come.
Constellation is the finale even if the newly issued vinyl gives us one more song not heard before. Looking at the time, well over six minutes, it stands out before the reversing cascade that is the intro.