I’ve been giving Down and Superjoint Ritual a chance, and it’s weird to be listening to Phil Anselmo’s vocals against a sound that’s not quite Pantera. In the song Beautifully Depressed, he actually sings with vibrato. It’s a resonating vibrato, but very gradual and deep, sort of like Mandy Patinkin with a shot of valium and an injection of testosterone. The fact that he does a decent job of it completely throws me off. The fact that quite a few SJR songs have punkish roots causes further confusion, just like Ministry’s punkish contribution to the Rock Against Bush album. It’s like listening to the latest No Motiv album and then realizing that the bassist is now the drummer. On top of that, he’s Asian and better than the old drummer.

Speaking of which, going through No Motiv’s earlier albums has been a fairly enjoyable task. They’re comprised of songs which aren’t as complex as Daylight Breaking, but they’re catchy nonetheless. Unfortunately, It hasn’t been the same with Thrice, especially with their first album Identity Crisis. I can tell that they had some great technical ideas, but when actually putting pen to paper and recording it in the studio, the sound is rough, almost experimental.

It’s hard going backwards for bands. I’m glad I discovered Dreamtheater as soon as Scenes From A Memory came out. I don’t like much of what they did before that (aside from Space Dye Vest, which is one of my favourite songs of theirs), so it’s scary to think of what more I wouldn’t like if I discovered them even later. I thought that Scenes From A Memory was going to be their best work, but somehow they managed to improve in every single progressive (no pun intended) album. Thrice doesn’t fare so well, of course, as I’ve been spoiled by their latest, excellently produced album, The Artist In The Ambulance. It’s makes their earlier stuff sound untested and lazy.

I really have to say something about No Motiv. When I first heard them, it was in preparation of a concert I was going to when they were opening for Strung Out about four years ago. I didn’t really like their first two albums aside from a few songs. They had a distinct sound, but their lyrics, like advice from a comforting friend, didn’t quite match. This band was like those kids I never really knew in high school, who weren’t popular but had their own clique nonetheless, and spent their free time making up songs and practicing their instruments. The guys I’d sort of root for, not because their music blew me away, but because there was no one to appreciate them.

Their latest album, however, takes things in a different direction, hinted at in the album title “Daylight Breaking”. It’s darker, it’s moodier, and it’s more developed. Jeremy has clearly become more confident with his singing, and this goes hand-in-hand with the new range of sound that they’ve developed, from quiet and barren to heavy and angry. In previous albums, he sounded constricted, but now screams emotionally with controlled unrestraint. The lyrics demonstrate a new maturity, and present a logical progression from their previous work. This is the album that they were meant to write, an album that makes them musicians and not just band members.

Now, as I listen to their older material, everything clicks, and I realize that I just wasn’t ready for this music four years ago. I don’t have any music that’s quite like this; a journey through a coming-of-age that’s filled with energetic hopefulness, along with the ups and downs associated with personal growth, a sort of inspiring sadness. The lyrics bring me back to being a teenager again, when I thought people on TV were normal, and believed that I should have been going through the same dainty problems. It makes me think of what I wanted to experience a long time ago, but never had the chance.

I’ve been trying to figure out how Bel Canto has created such ice cold music, then I realized that a lot of the mood comes not only from the chords, but the instruments themselves. Most of them have no reverberation, and the ones that do begin with a staccato prick. On top of that, there’s no steady beat, just awkward, military style plucks. Add in some airy vocals with what I assume is a soprano sax (it’s a little too brassy to be a clarinet, but sounds like a reed instrument nonetheless), and almost any type of music would sound cold.

I could never understand why some songs could make my eyes water.

• Radiohead — Paranoid Android, with its contradictory chords
• Thrice — Artist in the Ambulance, with its repenting, inspirational movements
• Dreamtheater — Disappear, as the harp leads to distortion in a bittersweet explosion
• Billy Talent — Nothing to Lose, with its heartwrenching chorus
• Godspeed, You Black Emperor! — Hungover as the Queen in Maida Vale, right when a single violin interrupts the sermon
• No Motiv — Born Again, when the drums kick in heavy and lead the listener to the present
• Lovage — Anger Management, with its pining soft rock melody
• The Dears — Heartless Romantic, with its thumping, distorted bass hits against the droning organ synth and dual vocals
• Elliot Smith — Waltz #2, with its steady, but heart-breaking tone
• Bad Astronaut — These Days, every time the effusive chorus rushes in
• Strung Out — Match Book, in its entire energetic hopefulness
• Postal Service — The Dream Of Evan And Chan, through all the opening lines
• Misfits — Saturday Night, as soon as the dragging guitars kick in
• Portishead — Undenied, with Beths fragile voice accompanying a simple, distorted loop

For the longest time I had assumed that it was the songs themselves, composed so well with so much pain, that would blur my vision. These songs were sad, and tears were the proper response.

Then I heard something a little different, something that was calming yet lifting. A dreamy song by Modest Mouse called Float On, that filled me with an indescribable satisfaction every time I heard it. And I realized that all these songs, as sad as they are, were making me happy.

So happy that tears are the proper response.

Didn’t want to go without saying something about this throbbing headache, and how this music makes me see emerald blue, golden stars, mandolins, and the night sky. My head feels like it’s going to explode. Time for sleep with the window open.