Let Go



We learn a lot from the albums we listen to — all about what we like and hate; what melodies haunt us or annoy us; when a lyricist's pushing too hard and when they're not pushing hard enough. After we disassemble the music piece by piece — instrument by lyric, mood by beat, chorus by metaphor — if what we're left with is something we seriously can't wait to put back together again, then it's worthy of devoting ourselves to it for a piece of time. When we do, we learn a thing or two. 

If there's anything learned from Let Go, the Silent Years' new EP, it's that there really is a whole hell of a lot you can do with just six songs, and that if each cut can stand on its own as a patent jam, it's pretty damn hard to go on accepting flimsy 13-plus track records laced with speed bumps, potholes and clumsy choruses. No, in just six songs, this band has achieved what most never will — an uninterrupted half-hour of perfect pop music. 

Unlike the band's 2008 long-player, The Globe (a bold, conceptual collection of lush, outward-looking pop-poems), Let Go is a dense, dark carnival of melody; it's a small arsenal of music that rushes toward us, a juggernaut in disguise carrying a shit-ton of personal baggage, a tissue and a gun. 

Your summer single might be "Madame Shocking." There's a fair chance that "TV>BJ" could be your new favorite breakup song. And "Vampires Bite the Hands that Feed Them" should infect your head for hours. But as strong as these and the other three songs on the EP are, the prestige exists in the uncanny replayability of the collection. So, what's better? A 20-tune record you play twice in its entirety? Or a six-song EP you play 25 times a week?

Travis R. Wright is the arts and culture editor for Metro Times. Send comments to twright@metrotimes.com.