Underoath -- Lost in the Sound of Separation
8/10
I've joked frequently over the last 17 years that Underoath is my least favorite band. Outside of the high whine of Aaron Gillespie's supporting vocals, I actually don't mind Underoath's music at all. In fact, I quite like the two albums I own that I am going to review here. It's the idea of Underoath that is my least favorite band of all time. I wrote about this a decade ago in a piece called "How Underoath Ruined the World," and I strangely still mostly agree with what I wrote back then. TLDR, the piece basically lists all of the factors surrounding Underoath that I did not like, while then essentially excusing the band of then young men for those factors (much of which were essentially out of their control). It's weird, but though the guys in Underoath are only two to three years younger than me, it feels like we are a generation apart.
The gist of my feelings comes down to this: I was raised in a certain form of Christianity that I think Jesus would most certainly be opposed to. Eventually, though, completely apart from that, I had my own conversion experience. In it, I realized that Christ went from spending his entire existence not only in God's presence, but as a part of God. Then, in his final moments before death, he felt completely abandoned by God. I suddenly realized that the way I felt during my worst moments of depression and loneliness were something Christ could easily identify with, as he had once felt something exponentially worse. I then realized that Christ could always empathize with me in my worst times. This epiphany--for this personal experience is the very definition of epiphany--still gives me great comfort, and presents Christ as an ally when I am at my absolute lowest. The out spring of this is that I want to treat everyone else I encounter with this same empathy, even if they are kind of a dick. In other words, my relationship with Christ gives me peace and joy, and causes me to treat other people with kindness, even though deep down I often want to kick most people, including myself, in the nuts.
For the members of Underoath, though, their relationships to Christ seemed to be torture to the point of physical pain. The band's entire discography, leading all the way from their first albums, to 2018's Erase Me, which I did not enjoy musically or lyrically, did not buy, and will thus not review here, is essentially one long document of a collective loss of faith. This isn't what an actual relationship to and with Christ should look like, and thus, seeing what has been the most key element of my life being portrayed as something that's splitting someone's soul to pieces instead of healing that soul, is not exactly going to be something I enjoy. I wish that these kids would have been presented with the real Christ. Then, they could have played music in this band with the simple joy that Christ looked at them with love as they exercised their passions and innate talents. Instead, it seems like the weight of being "Christians in a band" was crushing them. But again, as the piece I wrote all those years ago stated, they were put in a position to feel this way. As much as I hate what they symbolize, I feel sorry for the members of Underoath.
With all that said, Underoath's 2008 release, Lost in the Sound of Separation, is the first one of their albums that I purchased. My wife had their three albums previous this, and was a big fan of They're Only Chasing Safety. I strongly disliked the pop-screamo of They're Only Chasing Safety, and musically dismissed Underoath, but when my wife played me the follow-up, the crushingly heavy Define the Great Line, I gained respect. In fact, as the band continued that heaviness into Lost in the Sound of Separation, my wife lost interest, and I was now the one going out and buying Underoath albums.
It's clear from Lost in the Sound of Separation's cool, Kid A-inspired artwork, that the band are attempting to inject some experimentation into their trademarked "metalcore" sound. While the experimentation isn't anything that off the wall, it definitely works here. Keyboardist/weird sounds guy, Christopher Dudley, lays down a fun, roboapocalypse atmosphere throughout the album, and the band very wisely give space for that to work, allowing these songs, and the album as a whole, many chances to breathe. That is something many of Underoath's shorter-lived contemporaries never figured out. Even though more than half of these songs come in at less than 3.5 minutes, there's never the sense that the band are just banging out cookie-cutter metalcore riffs, and getting out as fast as possible. These songs shift and evolve organically, and not into the most expected of places.
Meanwhile, vocalist, Spencer Chamberlain, continues to further his craft, with diverse tones in his screams, running the gamut from high wail, to low, throaty growls--and he injects some melody into them, as well. The nasal scrape of Gillespie's vocals is still not my cup of tea (admittedly, though, this style of singing was beloved by a lot of people at the time), but his vocals are well-placed throughout Lost in the Sound of Separation, and never feel like any kind of pandering to fads or tastes. Lyrically, though, Jesus, get these guys some Zoloft.
From "Anyone Can Dig a Hole But It Takes a Real Man to Call It Home"
"I'm no leader, I'm just a mess
It's not the way it's supposed to be
It's just the way that it is
I'm afraid we're all victims here
And I'm the one who's in charge
I've lead us all astray again
Oh, how the blood thickens
Are we too far gone?"
No, dude, you're just a kid. Chill the fuck out.
"Emergency Broadcast: The End Is Near"
"Feast your eyes or just rip 'em out/This is it for us, it's time to panic"
Not overdramatic at all.
"The Only Survivor Was Miraculously Unharmed"
"Someone has sewn me shut and tied me to a bed
They locked me up, locked me up
Oh, God
This is where they all throw me to the wolves:
Dragged behind and trampled on
I can't keep clawing at the jaws of hell
Everything, everything is leaving me wondering
I hate that I'm questioning
Your everything, everything"
That sounds intense. Have you tried not being sewn shut and tied to a bed? Also, God isn't insecure--question away. He can take it. Otherwise, he isn't God.
"Coming Down Is Calming Down"
"The lost ask for a hand
But I can't stop, I never stop"
It uh...sounds like should get your own stuff worked out first before you worry about someone else who's lost.
"Desperate Times, Desperate Measures"
"I'm worn out, I'm worn thin
I will never break through"
That's a rough way to feel.
"Too Bright to See, Too Loud to Hear"
"Good God, if Your song leaves our lips
If Your work leaves our hands
Then we will be wanderers and vagabonds
They will stare and say how empty we are
How the freedom we had turned us up as dead men"
You are empty, and the freedom you didn't allow yourself to be given turned you up as dead men.
2008 Solid State/Tooth & Nail
1. Breathing in a New Mentality 2:37
2. Anyone Can Dig a Hole But It Takes a Real Man to Call It Home 3:16
3. A Fault Line, a Fault of Mine 3:22
4. Emergency Broadcast :: The End is Near 5:44
5. The Only Survivor Was Miraculously Unharmed 3:09
6. We Are the Involuntary 4:10
7. The Created Void 4:02
8. Coming Down Is Calming Down 3:15
9. Desperate Times, Desperate Measures 3:28
10. Too Bright to See, Too Loud to Hear 4:31
11. Desolate Earth :: The End Is Here 4:07
I've joked frequently over the last 17 years that Underoath is my least favorite band. Outside of the high whine of Aaron Gillespie's supporting vocals, I actually don't mind Underoath's music at all. In fact, I quite like the two albums I own that I am going to review here. It's the idea of Underoath that is my least favorite band of all time. I wrote about this a decade ago in a piece called "How Underoath Ruined the World," and I strangely still mostly agree with what I wrote back then. TLDR, the piece basically lists all of the factors surrounding Underoath that I did not like, while then essentially excusing the band of then young men for those factors (much of which were essentially out of their control). It's weird, but though the guys in Underoath are only two to three years younger than me, it feels like we are a generation apart.
The gist of my feelings comes down to this: I was raised in a certain form of Christianity that I think Jesus would most certainly be opposed to. Eventually, though, completely apart from that, I had my own conversion experience. In it, I realized that Christ went from spending his entire existence not only in God's presence, but as a part of God. Then, in his final moments before death, he felt completely abandoned by God. I suddenly realized that the way I felt during my worst moments of depression and loneliness were something Christ could easily identify with, as he had once felt something exponentially worse. I then realized that Christ could always empathize with me in my worst times. This epiphany--for this personal experience is the very definition of epiphany--still gives me great comfort, and presents Christ as an ally when I am at my absolute lowest. The out spring of this is that I want to treat everyone else I encounter with this same empathy, even if they are kind of a dick. In other words, my relationship with Christ gives me peace and joy, and causes me to treat other people with kindness, even though deep down I often want to kick most people, including myself, in the nuts.
For the members of Underoath, though, their relationships to Christ seemed to be torture to the point of physical pain. The band's entire discography, leading all the way from their first albums, to 2018's Erase Me, which I did not enjoy musically or lyrically, did not buy, and will thus not review here, is essentially one long document of a collective loss of faith. This isn't what an actual relationship to and with Christ should look like, and thus, seeing what has been the most key element of my life being portrayed as something that's splitting someone's soul to pieces instead of healing that soul, is not exactly going to be something I enjoy. I wish that these kids would have been presented with the real Christ. Then, they could have played music in this band with the simple joy that Christ looked at them with love as they exercised their passions and innate talents. Instead, it seems like the weight of being "Christians in a band" was crushing them. But again, as the piece I wrote all those years ago stated, they were put in a position to feel this way. As much as I hate what they symbolize, I feel sorry for the members of Underoath.
With all that said, Underoath's 2008 release, Lost in the Sound of Separation, is the first one of their albums that I purchased. My wife had their three albums previous this, and was a big fan of They're Only Chasing Safety. I strongly disliked the pop-screamo of They're Only Chasing Safety, and musically dismissed Underoath, but when my wife played me the follow-up, the crushingly heavy Define the Great Line, I gained respect. In fact, as the band continued that heaviness into Lost in the Sound of Separation, my wife lost interest, and I was now the one going out and buying Underoath albums.
It's clear from Lost in the Sound of Separation's cool, Kid A-inspired artwork, that the band are attempting to inject some experimentation into their trademarked "metalcore" sound. While the experimentation isn't anything that off the wall, it definitely works here. Keyboardist/weird sounds guy, Christopher Dudley, lays down a fun, roboapocalypse atmosphere throughout the album, and the band very wisely give space for that to work, allowing these songs, and the album as a whole, many chances to breathe. That is something many of Underoath's shorter-lived contemporaries never figured out. Even though more than half of these songs come in at less than 3.5 minutes, there's never the sense that the band are just banging out cookie-cutter metalcore riffs, and getting out as fast as possible. These songs shift and evolve organically, and not into the most expected of places.
Meanwhile, vocalist, Spencer Chamberlain, continues to further his craft, with diverse tones in his screams, running the gamut from high wail, to low, throaty growls--and he injects some melody into them, as well. The nasal scrape of Gillespie's vocals is still not my cup of tea (admittedly, though, this style of singing was beloved by a lot of people at the time), but his vocals are well-placed throughout Lost in the Sound of Separation, and never feel like any kind of pandering to fads or tastes. Lyrically, though, Jesus, get these guys some Zoloft.
From "Anyone Can Dig a Hole But It Takes a Real Man to Call It Home"
"I'm no leader, I'm just a mess
It's not the way it's supposed to be
It's just the way that it is
I'm afraid we're all victims here
And I'm the one who's in charge
I've lead us all astray again
Oh, how the blood thickens
Are we too far gone?"
No, dude, you're just a kid. Chill the fuck out.
"Emergency Broadcast: The End Is Near"
"Feast your eyes or just rip 'em out/This is it for us, it's time to panic"
Not overdramatic at all.
"The Only Survivor Was Miraculously Unharmed"
"Someone has sewn me shut and tied me to a bed
They locked me up, locked me up
Oh, God
This is where they all throw me to the wolves:
Dragged behind and trampled on
I can't keep clawing at the jaws of hell
Everything, everything is leaving me wondering
I hate that I'm questioning
Your everything, everything"
That sounds intense. Have you tried not being sewn shut and tied to a bed? Also, God isn't insecure--question away. He can take it. Otherwise, he isn't God.
"Coming Down Is Calming Down"
"The lost ask for a hand
But I can't stop, I never stop"
It uh...sounds like should get your own stuff worked out first before you worry about someone else who's lost.
"Desperate Times, Desperate Measures"
"I'm worn out, I'm worn thin
I will never break through"
That's a rough way to feel.
"Too Bright to See, Too Loud to Hear"
"Good God, if Your song leaves our lips
If Your work leaves our hands
Then we will be wanderers and vagabonds
They will stare and say how empty we are
How the freedom we had turned us up as dead men"
You are empty, and the freedom you didn't allow yourself to be given turned you up as dead men.
2008 Solid State/Tooth & Nail
1. Breathing in a New Mentality 2:37
2. Anyone Can Dig a Hole But It Takes a Real Man to Call It Home 3:16
3. A Fault Line, a Fault of Mine 3:22
4. Emergency Broadcast :: The End is Near 5:44
5. The Only Survivor Was Miraculously Unharmed 3:09
6. We Are the Involuntary 4:10
7. The Created Void 4:02
8. Coming Down Is Calming Down 3:15
9. Desperate Times, Desperate Measures 3:28
10. Too Bright to See, Too Loud to Hear 4:31
11. Desolate Earth :: The End Is Here 4:07
Comments
My favourite Underoath record is "The Changing of Times." I tried listening to some of "Erase Me," but quickly found myself disenchanted with it.
"The Changing of Times" is my wife's favorite. My old college roommate, who generally liked much heavier stuff, was also a fan of it. Just could never get into Aaron's vocals. Speaking of, I got tired of and wanted to quit Erase Me about two tracks in, but forced myself to power through. It wasn't worth it.