Out Now
Sometimes in life, you just have to take a punt and dive in head first into unchartered waters.
As much as this rings true, too often with music we all defer to known bands or artists when it comes to sharing our listening time, and I, for one, am highly guilty of this.
So tonight, I have decided to throw caution to the wind and review an EP by a band I have never heard of nor know anything about based solely on the first thirty seconds of the title track which recently came across my desk.
The band is called Rothschild out of Yorkshire and according to their bio unleash a “hybrid rock sound drawing elements from alt-rock, math rock, metal, emo and post-hardcore. The result is a dynamic collection of tracks that touch on themes as varied as heartache and politics to morality and individuality while providing a diverse soundscape blending impactful riffs and anthemic choruses with often delicate and gentle interludes.”
Fuck knows what most of that means so let’s just do things the old fashion way and hit play shall we?
Crooked Lines sweeps majestically out of the gate, a mellow yet stirring intro passage featuring the silky smooth vocals of frontman Nathan Morris over a gentle score that is anything but metal.
It’s actually quite intriguing until it snaps into an eclectic blaze of aggression with drummer Thomas ‘TJ’ Johnson obviously not in the mood for pleasantries.
And then it subsides again, retreating back to the sanctity of the whimsical opening interlude before lurching violently back into its alter ego and flailing desperately in the breeze.
This is absolutely chaotic and frenetic and fucken awesome because of it. I honestly don’t know what to make of Rothschild at this early juncture, but sometimes mystery is a bonus when it comes to exploration.
As Crooked Lines drifts into the darkness I am still a touch discombobulated, surprised at the sonic assault I have just been subjected to but also eager for more.
Does that say something about my personality?
Bloodstream takes a different tact again, firing up in an almost old-school rock vibe before the schizophrenic nature of Rothschild rises to the surface amid a wash of drums and sporadic guitars from Danny Jowett.
Morris’ vocal prowess is impressive as fuck, shifting from cleans to harsh to recklessness with ease. While it is a little daunting it is also fresher than a newborn child and, finally, introduces a band who seemingly have no discernable boundaries.
There’s at least five different songs competing against each other for supremacy on this one track and the blending of musical genres where they have no right to be is refreshingly captivating.
Enemies fires up with a guitar duel between Jowett and bass player Joshua Roberts and with no sign of victory in either of their futures, Morris decides to step in and lead us down another rabbit hole.
I’m not even going to start mentioning possible influences simply because I don’t have enough time but whoever Rothschild used for inspiration they have completely bastardised the status quo and ventured into their own realm of destruction.
There’s timing changes galore – almost enough to make it difficult to keep a synchronized banging of the head happening – to go with the melting pot of emotion and I would find it hard to imagine there is anything musically Rothschild wouldn’t be willing to tackle.
Make Me A Martyr arrives courtesy of a messy piece of feedback before setting off into another descent into darkness that is rescued only by Morris throwing a comforting vocal line over proceedings.
Until he becomes bored and turns nasty again.
I know the world’s attention span is gradually diminishing, but these guys take the cake. I doubt they even sit down to rest such is their musical spontaneity.
A nice little vocal breakdown backs things off momentarily before Roberts starts slapping the shit out of his bass and he and Jowett renew hostilities on the strings.
My Empathy is Getting Weak sweeps into life with a slower, more measured opening that sees Morris finding his happy place once more.
No two songs so far on this EP have been even close in terms of direction, and it is a credit to Rothschild that what could often sound the death knells for most bands given their haphazard nature is more of an asset in the hands of these talented individuals.
And then My Empathy Is Growing Weak tails off and fades into nothing without spinning the circumference of the Earth. And with that, the track is done, and we move on to the final song Broken Man, which is also the tune that sparked this little review.
Morris summons the clean side of his persona briefly before the cyclonic force of nature crushes all before her and Rothschild are off into battle again.
At times, it is almost like each member is playing a different song such is the constant timing and tempo changes, but then they somehow manage to bring everything back into oneness – albeit it only briefly – to restore the status quo.
When Morris sings the man can mix it with the best of them but when his angry pills kick in you would hardly believe it was the same person on the end of the microphone.
I honestly feel violated right now, and the sensation has never felt so good.
Remember that first bit of the review about jumping into unchartered waters? Well, I just did it without a life jacket and got absolutely crushed by the changing tides of Rothschild.
And I couldn’t be happier about it.
