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CD review: In Reverent Fear
By Cassie Hood
hoodc@mscd.edu

In Reverent Fear Stomacher (Anxiety Records, 2006)

There is an endless number of ways a band can combine different elements in their music. Some bands can flawlessly mix ingredients together and some get it so wrong they should be stabbed in their collective Stomacher.

In Reverent Fear’s latest attempt at making palatable music combines acoustic guitars with harsh screaming and falsetto breakdowns. The album is an uneven mix of different genres and instruments that should never have been used together.

“666777888” is full of screams, squealing guitars and a horrible trumpet that sounds like it is being played by an angry 5-year-old. It builds and builds to a climax, then drops into angst-filled whining. As soft guitars herald the end of the song, it suddenly kicks back into the dreadful noise that started it. When the track finally comes to its finale, a 30-second free-for-all takes over.

The next song, “Castle St.,” sounds like a completely different band is performing it. Each instrument is used to gently play its part. It is the epitome of an emo song, with poetic lyrics of heart-wrenching pain but upbeat, head-nodding drums.

As a perfect example of the lack of cohesion within the album, “La Foret” shifts the band back into their acoustic woe with serene guitars and tender violins.

Jarrod Taylor’s voice is actually bearable, not strident or harsh. It is an amazing song full of poetry and emotion, but is followed by headache-causing guitars and cracked vocals as Taylor tries to hit pitches way out of his range.

If the band had stuck with just one sound, frantic and cacophonic or tranquil and harmonious, Stomacher might have been easier to digest and/or hold down. Instead it only has a handful of songs worth hearing and leaves an awful bellyache.