The Descendents were a great band. Musically accomplished and melodically aware, their output was the epitome of melodic punk and hardcore right from the off. When I Get Old and I’m The One were snapshots of teenage life, accurate in their portrayal to the letter. Bands like Goldfinger, All, Sum 41, Millencolin and NoFX celebrated life’s most confusing period with warp-speed down strokes, pointed lyricism and melodic enterprise, acutely aware that they weren’t the Smiths. But, as is so often forgotten, they were somebody’s Smiths.
Agent Of The Grand Canyon are a melodic punk/hardcore band from Japan. Born in 2012, this is the band’s first release, with one cover and two originals. Aside from making me want to dig out Milo Goes To College, the band have much to commend them, despite their line up being in a state of flux. Their influences list reads exactly like their content, and though this would be unfortunate in other circumstances, here it is an indication of correct research etiquette.
Although there are many joys in life, few of them can equal hearing a Japanese man erupt into Hotel California in a language that falls so expertly between other languages. Not quite English or Japanese, vocalist Sak’s pleasingly capable voice gives this most comical of circumstances a surprisingly serious air. Sprinting out of the blocks at breakneck speed, the Eagles classic is given a potent, snare-tight re-working by the Tokyo champions. Once past the chorus, it’s almost impossible to remember this song being played any other way.
Hypocrite reminds me a bit of old Maiden, sped up to the point of exploding, performed with a remarkably high level of aggression. This blistering ode to something or other whips past before any of its many subtleties have time to sink in. Some of the snare work is almost hilarious in its speed and intent-the rolls are revved up to 11, snapping like a dog that’s been woken with downed power line.
As the Offspring-ish intro to Loser explodes into more power-crazed speed action, I can’t help but feel that referring to AotGC as melodic hardcore isn’t doing them justice. Perhaps that oft-forgotten tag, fastcore, would be more appropriate. The lack of clarity in the lyrical/vocal content yields such impossible couplets as ‘moles be folded inside brazil/I’m happy one more Manuel out the door whey choo cubiton’, though no charm is lost because of this.
Agent Of The Grand Canyon have a lot about them to be enjoyed. Unintelligible vocals aside (apart from the sweary bit in Hypocrite), this is extremely well-played, knowingly referential melodicore, deftly reproduced by a group of individuals enthralled by the genre’s key protagonists. Great stuff.