I have always held Chris Carrabba and Dashboard Confessional in the highest esteem, alongside Benjamin Gibbard of Death Cab for Cutie, Damien Rice and Jonsi of Sigur Ros on the top of my list of great musicians and lyricists. And I am determined to see each of them, even meet them in person if life so grants me the golden opportunity, at least once in this lifetime.

Oh, how quickly I was shot up to the clouds when it was announced that Dashboard Confessional would be swinging by last year for the Rockaway Festival, and how much quicker after that I was buried in disappointment when they had to pull out. Well. The bandage I had on my emo heart since last October can finally come off last Wednesday, when Chris Carrabba finally arrived to perform an intimate solo acoustic set sans his band for a smaller and more devoted crowd. And it was a rather surreal night for me to finally catch him live.

Three down, one to go.

Opening for Dashboard Confessional, or more so Chris Carrabba, that night was local singer/songwriter Awi Rafael. Armed with his own guitar and a backup guitarist, he warmed up the anxious crowd with a couple of his own Malay tunes, Pulanglah and Bila Aku Jatuh Cinta, along with his cover renditions of High and Dry by Radiohead, Someone Like You by Adele, Use Somebody by Kings of Leon and Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve.

He did not really impressed me, and frankly, I was not a fan when I first heard he was selected to be the opening act, when off the top of my head, I could think of some better and more known local singers/songwriters I would not mind filling his spot in a heartbeat. I was not a fan of him flourishing his vocal chords – or any singer/songwriter who does it, to be honest, and had to raise my eyebrow when he asked if there were any Bruno Mars fans in the crowd. But at least he did not ruin the covers, and tried as he may, he did entertain the crowd a tad bit with the covers. You can never go wrong with beloveds like Someone Like You and Use Somebody. And I did felt bad for him when he had to buy more time and asked the crowd if he could play two more songs for us, and the crowd hit him back with a unanimous and firm “no”.

Bias as I may be, it was still a rather decent and unconventional choice to pick Awi Rafael as the opening act. It was the only out for the local music industry, and it can get rather unfair to keep it in the family and let only one singer/songwriter hog the limelight. So, yes to versatility and given opportunity there. And props to his showmanship and effort to entertain. But no, still not a fan, still not impressed.

After a quick interval, on the dark stage, the heartbreaker himself Chris Carrabba emerged with a skip in his steps and a guitar bound to his chest. He started his set with the upbeat The Good Fight, and immediately, he got the crowd in a sing-a-long frenzy.

It did not matter whether it was Age Six Racer and Again I Go Unnoticed from the debut The Swiss Army Romance, or later loves like Stolen from Dusk and Summer and Belle of the Boulevard from Alter the Ending, or favourites like Hands Down, Don’t Wait and Vindicated, there was never a moment of silence when Carrabba was playing, with at least ten or twenty fans in the crowd were singing along with him. Or, in some cases, we just took over the microphone as he strummed his guitar, and ended with ardent applause like giving ourselves pats on the backs.

His subtle performing antiques, how he would tip toe as he strums familiar riffs and reaches impossibly high notes as if his voicebox is just going to crawl out of his screaming mouth. His effortless interaction with his fans, how he had joked when the media photographers were lined up to leave after the second or third song: “Hey, where are you guys going? I was just getting started.” And during where the guitar solo was supposed to soar in Belle of the Boulevard, wishing his lead guitarist John Lefler was with him to fill in his blanks.

For the countless times his songs have caught us in times of despair and in searches of hope and understanding, that night, we were there to catch him every time, singing his songs back to him heartily like he did for us in his records.

This is how a Dashboard Confessional concert is supposed to be. Every fan remembering by heart every word to every song, every high to every low.

When Carrabba kickstarted the opener for Don’t Wait, we bounced back his “Oh-oh-oh-ohhh, oh-oh-oh-ohhh”s like echoes off the walls. When his guitar quieted down and the crowd whispered, “I’ll be true, I’ll be useful / I’ll be cavalier, I’ll be yours, my dear” in As Lovers Go, and at the top of our lungs we screamed infidelities, “Your hair, it’s everywhere / Screaming infidelities and taking its wear” and “I am Vindicated / I am selfish, I am wrong / I am right, I swear I’m right / I swear I knew it all along” one last time in Vindicated, as Carrabba borrowed the energy, jumping onstage like he meant it. We knew that he meant it.

I had no expectations of him playing Dusk and Summer that night. I mean, I would like him to, and it would seem like a missing puzzle piece if he did not. But Dashboard Confessional’s concert history seldom saw the saddening song in the setlist.

I was glad he did that night. I stood so still, the crowd fell to such silence, listening to this 37-year-old singer/songwriter, singing this song I have been playing over and over like a broken record. How his voice just seemed so fragile and broken as he breathed his dreaded words: “Some things tie your life together / Slender threads and things to treasure.” Like that comforting hand that caressed solace down your hair, your miserable cheek, saying: “That time has passed. It is over. You made it through. You are here.”

For that lonely early morning at the Melbourne airport in winter listening to Dusk and Summer and missing someone far away. For that deep breath before the ruins collapsed, questioning alongside the insecurity of The Shade of Poison Trees. For those moments cleaning up after my mess, emerging from the places I have come to fear the most, seeking comfort in Belle of the Boulevard. They all led up to a perfect day that night with a full frontal view of who I consider to be one of the best musicians out there.

Hands down, it was the best day I can ever remember. It has been a while since I felt so excited for something. My only grief was that I was not able to meet him in person to thank him, and tell him how much his songs had meant to me, but could only press flying kisses from my lips to the air gratuitously towards him as he left the stage.

Someday, perhaps.

In the meantime, there were his songs once again to fall back on. And this soft midnight rain to reminisce the night once again, refused to admit that we have already lost the night, when we only had barely enough to hang on. A night like that should last and last and last.

PS: Apologies on the lyrics puns. I just cannot resist it, and I got a little carried away. Heh.

#1: Hands Down

#2: Dusk and Summer

#3: Stolen

#4: The Shade of Poison Trees

#5: Hell on a Throat

Prepare your emo hearts for his acoustic show at Esplanade Hall, Singapore next Tuesday (February 21 – only SGD68 available @ Sistic.com.sg), and at KL Live, Malaysia next Wednesday (February 22 – RM118 @ AirAsiaRedTix.com).

W: DashboardConfessional.com
T: @ChrisCarrabba

January 28, 2012
St Jerome’s Laneway Festival
Fortitude Valley, Queensland, Australia
(via Laneway Festival)

August 26, 2011
Peninsula/Felsziget Festival
Targu Mures, Transylvania, Romania
(via Dorothea Kettler)

I was supposed to write something about this compilation when it was released early last year, concurrently to the movie’s release. But you know how these things work. Lady Muse is one fickle-minded bitch that leaves me high and dry whenever she pleases, and only comes back to me a year later all hot and bothered. Gee. Better late than never, I suppose.

On normal days, I am not much of a fan of cover songs. But these days have not been normal, and I found myself asking a question that reminded me of a song – Where is My Mind?, originally by American alternative rock band Pixies, covered in this compilation by Israeli-Romanian singer/songwriter Yoav and the lead actress of Sucker Punch herself, Emily Browning. From the hollowed snare, pitchy vocal and stinging rhythm guitar for the ending of the 1999 adaptation for Chuck Palahniuk’s Fight Club, transformed overtime from a seemingly quiet lullaby of cautious vocals and comforting strings, to heavy basses that pace, percussion beats that march and rhythmic riffs that wail.

Hence, I was drawn back to what I consider to be one of the best movie soundtracks available in 2011. Much like what the role of music played in the movie, the soundtrack offered an escape that pretty much elated itself within the listeners.

Other than Where is My Mind?, Emily Browning also lent vocals for The Smiths’ Asleep, which frontman Morissey was more than happy with the cover, and provided a haunting rendition to the famous Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This) by Eurythmics. Other singing stars from the movie include Carla Gugino and Oscar Isaac’s duet to a Burlesque-like reboot of Roxy Music’s Love is the Drug.

The rest of the soundtrack is wrapped around the axial of the rock genre. Emiliana Torrini and Skunk Anansie’s respective tantalising attempts to Jefferson Airplane’s Alice in Wonderland musical anecdote, White Rabbit, and Search and Destroy by The Stooges. Tracks that were given facelifts were Bjork’s own Army of Me, featuring Anansie with a more psychedelic twist, and the mashup by Armageddon a.k.a Geddy of Queen’s I Want it All and We Will Rock You.

What’s not to love about the Sucker Punch movie, really? Immaculate graphics, impeccable action sequences from all walks of action packed movies, and of course, hot girls in short skirts with machine guns and samurai swords. Top that with a soundtrack compilation like that, what more can you ask for? Well. Better dialogues, acting and plotline, I suppose, but hey, I have not been normal for days. Don’t take my word for it.

“Looking at it these days, how would an emo song that makes you want to cut your wrist or discourage people do any good to anything? … What we sing about is to inspire and to challenge people not to settle, but search for something more.”

With that musical philosophy in mind, lead vocalist and guitarist Samuel Oh, along with his bandmates from Busco, guitarist Shaun Xavier, bassist Larry Chew, keyboardist Eugene Goh and percussionist Darren Ashley, released a rather spectacular debut EP, entitled In Search of, which coincidentally, is also what – or something along the line of – the word “Busco” means in Spanish.

First thing you notice about the EP is the meticulous attention they put on the CD sleeve. From the album art to the unusual packaging to the artistically acclaimed in-seams, and not to mention, the product itself. A pretty album will be judged by the cover if the tracks are not delivered in the best quality. For Busco, I must say, the tracks are pretty much perfectly produced and the sound evenly distributed. The songs, as positive-looking as the cover.

Much like the bands they sought influences from, such as Switchfoot and Anberlin, there is no denying that Busco is a pop rock band with Christian influences. Bands that, without losing sight of their faith, still manage to keep those outside of the circle in the loop with more generalised themes and commercialised (not to mention, catchy) rhythms. Like in Wurlitzer Whitewash: “Wasted, bruised and broken / Where’s my heaven? Take me home / Father, my salvation / Your horizon, take me home”.

Formally known as Bus Company, and now Busco. Formally boys, and now soon-to-be men, In Search of captured a charm of straddling the stateline between childhood and adulthood. Whilst their songs speak of growing up and being lost, they also carry a carefree weight of being forever young. Such characteristics open the EP in Hold Your Horses, and also can be seen throughout the EP: “Maybe it’s time to fly and leave this world behind / If I just close my eyes, I’ll make it to the other side.” Lyrics full of hope and youth and motivation, paired with the playful and cheeky and catchy synthesised remixes, like everything is possible, anything is achievable.

It is not to say it is easier for them. It never is. But. I suppose, it is not as hard. There is a kind of faith and belief there for them, though intangible yet often believed to exist. In a nutshell, there is always at least someone to turn to. For the faithless, there is often none. And sometimes, during the most desperate times, the faithless have to latch on to the faithful ones and their strong beliefs to not fall over the ledge. Like in Deep Breath, which quickly became my favourite when I found solace in it one day: “And all will be OK, and all will be OK / And all our yesterdays, they’re gone for good” and “Deep breath / Go run with the clouds now / You’ll burn like the stars now / We’ll get there somehow”.

Religion aside, Busco managed to tell the story that has been going on for thousand of years: the struggle between good and evil in all humankind. While some chooses to relive the dark side and connect with the lost and not yet found, telling them that they are not alone, Busco keeps the signal fire burning, like a lighthouse, guiding lost vessels to shore, guiding the prodigals home to possible happiness.

That’s the beauty of music, in my opinion. When you are done mulling over sad wrist-slitting songs and feeling sorry for yourself, you have songs from motivational bands like Busco to wake up to the next morning, and perhaps, a kind of hope for a better day than yesterday.

W: WeAreBusco.com
T: @wearebusco

The dog days are indeed over for Florence Welch and her mean machine in their sophomore album, Ceremonials.

Gone were the days of the pitter patter adrenaline pumps of Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) and Dog Days Are Over, the whimsical Cosmic Love and My Boy Makes Coffins, the quirky Girl with One Eye and Kiss with a Fist. The versatility from Lungs have stopped breathing, and what is left are the grandeur of Welch’s siren voice, and the majestic strings and percussions, which is pretty much more than enough to start another chapter for Florence and the Machine.

Welch seemed to have latched on to a kind of dark that runs its course throughout Ceremonials. The descending introduction to Only If For a Night marks its walk through the valley of the shadow of death. The mysterious What The Water Gave Me, the eerie Seven Devils, the melancholic Leave My Body and the haunting Remain Nameless.

Yet. However dark the clouds, there is always a silver lining. There has to be.  Sings Welch in the first official single, Shake it Out: “It’s always the darkest before the dawn.” Never let the fire in you die. The beat of your heart, however weakened it has become, must continue palpating an infectious rhythm – No Light, No Light, Heartlines, Strangeness and Charm and Bedroom Hymns – that keeps you strutting on. Life sucks, you know it. You might as well dance it off.

As powerful and grand as it may be, and as many positive critics the album has received, Ceremonials did not grab me as sturdily as it did Lungs. It seems draggy, for some reason, though acquiring the same playtime length as the former. Maybe it has something to do with the constant dark that goes on without a break of sunshine here and there. So much so that Welch’s shrieking vocals started to bother me even.

Personally, Ceremonials could have easily suffered from the whole “sophomore album syndrome”. It barely survived, much like what I think the album seems to portray as a whole. Not unlike a terrible heartbreak – not so much as to kill you, yet not so little as to let you live.

W: FlorenceAndTheMachine.net
T: @flo_tweet 

What could have been a great start of the year for all in terms of concerts in Malaysia, quickly turned a tad sour for some upon the arrival at the concert venue.

The first thing that I found disorganised was the fact that there was still a long queue for the Party Zone and Regular ticket buyers at the entrance, when Foster The People had already started playing. I am aware that at venues like Kuala Lumpur Convention Centre, there are curfews to respect, and the organisers cannot afford to start on ‘Malaysian time’ – an hour or two late. Which is kind of good, because I am not a fan of waiting on performances later than the time stated on my ticket stub. But still. Leaving out a quarter, or half of the crowd still queuing to get inside, just because you want things to go according to plan. Things like these could have easily been solved by opening the doors earlier.

The second thing was upon entering the venue, there was no specially barricaded corridors for the late FANatic ticket buyers to get to the front. Which puzzled me at first, before I found out that the barriers had all been broken down by the enthusiastic concert goers from the Regular and Party Zones, and what was meant to be a segmented concert, was converted into a single section concert. And just like that, my RM188 ticket then cost as much as the RM98 ones the people around me paid for. Try as we may to squeeze our way to the front, it was pretty much like trying to find a pin in a haystack.

So, we resorted to standing at the far back of the venue, and watched the spectacular light displays at the stage far, far away. I could not even get a glimpse of the band, not even in between shoulders of taller people in front of me like I would usually do when I found myself standing miles away from the stage. The only way I could catch a clear view of the lead, Mark Foster, was on the screen behind us. Which I found rather pathetic, considering how much I paid for my ticket. I might as well just stay at home, blast Torches through my speakers and watch the video for Call it What You Want on YouTube on replay.

Photo credit: Lucas Lau

I suppose. Despite that, the night was not ruined entirely. Everyone there still had a good time, dancing along to the infectious beats of Call It What You Want, Don’t Stop, Helena Beat and Houdini. Foster The People was, after all, a pretty decent band for one that just started a little over two years, with only one studio album released. And a rather impressive one too, I must say. And although however blessed a band is with only one album, there are not much songs to play around with when performing live. But, fortunately, Foster The People made the most of what they have – 10 songs, giving each introduction their own live rendition of things, as well as performing their favourite cover songs, one of them Weezer’s Say It Ain’t So. A stellar version which I enjoyed very much.

It also amused me very much to see a young boy sitting on his father’s shoulders, who knew the words to every single song that night, including the Weezer cover, rocking out to them as if he were the biggest fan ever.

Saving the best for last was the song that started it all for them, Pumped Up Kicks. The lights just went insane, as were the crowd. To be honest, I have never been a fan of that song. Part of the reasons why it took me awhile to check out their album, before I found a few more favourites in Torches I could like more. But that night, I thought they ended the song and the concert rather perfectly. They extended the bridge with a – excuse my lacked of descriptions here – pretty pumped up remix that dropped the beat by a heavy half and got the crowd going one last time.

When it was all over, we felt discontent. But like I said, there is only so much you can stretch with only 10 songs to play around with. It was a pretty decent concert to start off the year. And like I said as well, it could have made things far better if crowd control was more organised, and security was more buffed up.

Photo credit: Lucas Lau

And no, it is not part of a concert’s charm that fans from other sections barge in on a more expensive section. And no, it is not OK for them to do that. You reap what you sow. You enjoy what you can afford. While the RM98-ers are up front having fun, well, good for you. I bet it must have been the most worth it concert for you lot. Hey, RM188-ers way at the back, is this where we park our cars? That must be some good money you just paid watching the band through recording devices in the air, and oh yeah, I’d pay that money again to see the crazy lighting effects – any fucking day.

And yes, I have been to enough concerts to know the ethics of live gigs. If things are free for all like that, boy wouldn’t we be living in the elusive world peace right now. I don’t know. I could be wrong. I could be anal. I could be petty. Maybe I should just let this little issue slide because hey, the majority was already having fun. Why rain on the parade, right? If you cannot beat them, join them, they say. It’s just RM90, forget about it.

Maybe, maybe, there is a slight chance that I am wrong, you tell me.

Yet at the end of the day, how is it possible to tell a bunch of kids off for being in the moment and having fun, right? I just think that if you want to offer different zones with different prices for different levels of a concert experience, you might want to consider buffing up the security for something as simple as the barriers. If not, you might as well just have us all pay at the same price. I don’t know. Maybe it is just me here being petty for a RM90 loss, and I am just one person in – here I go again – the pumped up crowd being a tad sour about this unfairness. So, perhaps the organisers will just look the other way, call the concert a job well done, awesome opener for the year, and move along to the next international concert to work on.

Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate the organisers for bringing down Foster The People. I adore them. They are a good band. They are fun to dance to live. The sound system was spotless. The lightings were perfect. Two thumbs up. But something as rudimentary as crowd control and security should not be overlooked. You offered us different volumes of entertainment we were willing to go the extra mile to pay for, just be sure you keep your end of the bargain and do some post-mortem collateral damage. That’s all.

With a kind of lovable music coined as “island indie pop” by NPR in the United States, Malaysia’s most talked about singer/songwriter Zee Avi, who pioneered in going all the way to the States to further her singing career, returns with her sophomore album, bathing fans from both sides of the world with the honey sweet vocals we have grown comfortable with since her Bitter Heart, Honey Bee and Kantoi days in 2009.

More refined and steadier in a rather constant BPM, Ghostbird opens with the enduring yet rather subtle thud of the drum in Swell Window. Like a palpating heart that beats inside a surfer’s as he sits patiently, waiting for that perfect wave. Like a hopeful romance’s, as she waits quietly for that perfect lover to come into her life.

Unwavering as it may be for Ghostbird, compared to her self-titled effort that holds a wider array of melodies from the playful Kantoi and Bitter Heart to the solemn Honey Bee and Let Me In, Zee’s well-rounded vocals still bears immaculateness that can be distinguished from miles away. The night time glow of Milestone Moon. The upbeat and optimistic sunny number The Book of Morris Johnson. The 50s doo-wop nostalgia of Madness. The consoling lullaby in Bahasa Sarawak Siboh Kitak Nangis. The passive aggressive frustration of Concrete Wall.

Although the album was penned entirely in her Brooklyn kitchen on warm summer’s days, it still carries the weightlessness and laidbackness, not only experienced in her hometown Sarawak, but of all angles: be it on an island the moonlit beach, an aimless stroll down the country road, or an escape to the paddy fields for some fresh air, Zee managed to present a kind of momentary peace that seems to leave us in this cruel world of traffic jams and uncivilised citizens.

W: ZeeAvi.com
T: @zeeavi

You Me At Six has always been a band that is open for experiments when it comes to melodic riffs. At least that is what I think. Whilst the Brit rock band debuted  with Take Off Your Colours in 2008 on a rather dull note, there were a few that remains memorable, such as Jealous Minds Think Alike and If You Run.

When Hold Me Down took flight two years later, they had a remake that added colours to what You Me At Six should sound like from then onwards, riding notably on lead Josh Franceschi’s spotless vocals, guitarist Max Heyler’s melodious riffs and drummer Dan Flint’s absolute beats, in stellar numbers like The Consequence, There’s No Such Thing as Accidental Infidelity and Trophy Eyes.

In this recent instalment, Sinners Never Sleep sees the band stretching to the brim once more as they expand a little further when it comes to catchy guitar rhythms that sticks like toffee to teeth, going beyond the comfort zone of post-hardcore and pop punk.

While others run along the same veins as their past hits, some with more pop infusion like Reckless and This is the First Thing, and others leaning more towards the rock genre like Little Death and Jaws on the Floor, the band expanded their horizons a tad with playful influences from Fall Out Boy in The Dilemma, with that big band skip in their steps, and first single, Loverboy with cheeky lines like “I beg for attention in small doses / Leave the scene smelling of dead roses”.

Propelling Franceschi’s bonafide vocals to the next level are borrowed screamo angers from vocalists who have been fluent in their own metalcore accords: Oliver Sykes of Bring Me The Horizon in Bite My Tongue, the second single off the album, and Winston McCall of Parkway Drive in Time is Money. At first, it does sound a little out of place, like unwelcome statics that crosses the faultless vocals Franceschi has delivered for You Me At Six all this while.

But later, it is evident that they are necessary to create such dramatised edginess to the songs. When Sykes came in with the fervent “fuck you”s that blend with the raw and dirty guitar riffs, the song grew teeth and tore at flesh, dragged the mangled body through dirt.

Like their preceding albums, Sinners Never Sleep too takes intervals from hardcore numbers in between with slower tracks like Little Bit of Truth, Crash, which mirrors Fireworks the most from the previous album, Hold Me Down, and probably the most powerful slow number they have in all three albums, When We Were Younger.

While Franceschi has never been articulate in vocabulary imagery and poetic lyrics, yet it is the simplicity of the way he arranges his words that connects with the heartstrings singing them: “When I was younger, I never thought / That when I was older, I’d see you give up / Now that I’m older, I carry the torch / Just promise you’ll stand and you’ll be strong.” The six minutes of their most experimental song thus far builds up to an emotional climax that falls swift and perfectly to a kind of solace end for this third chapter of their music career.

For Sinners Never Sleep, You Me At Six proves that versatility can go even further, as they explore deeper into the realms of hardcore/metalcore, it is still possible to keep it clean cut as they were, yet still remain fetching as ever rhythmically.