Across Five Aprils – Collapse

What the fuck is this shit? Across Five Aprils is an embarssingly bad band – I had to put on headphones while listening to the latest album, Collapse, not only because I was ashamed to be listening to such awful din, but also to spare my neighbors from having to hear the racket. Each track on Collapse is indistinguishable from the rest, and often I found myself looking up at my computer, amazed at how Across Five Aprils could milk one riff for 10 minutes, only to find out that several songs had gone by. Though they bill themselves as “Scenic City Hardcore,” “Thrift Store Hardcore” is much more accurate. Anyone remotely interested in hardcore has heard everything on Collapse before. As an album, Collapse is worn-out, itchy, and tight around the ass.

The lyrics on Collapse are juvenile and pretentious at the same time, a feat so remarkable that I point you to “Bring Me Their Head” for your amusement: “Bring me the head of self-righteous ignorance. Bleed slowly cut deeper these people aren’t your friends. Bring me the head of those who get in our way. On honor I promise this shit will stop today. My father said to me, I’ll help you lead this killing spree.” This kind of angst-ridden highschool sophomore rhyme scheme persists throughout the record, and while it occasionally rises above banality like “pain/brain/insane,” it does not stay there for too long.

I could find nothing of any redeemable value in Collapse, so I desperately played it for several of my friends, hoping one of them could give me something – anything – to write about. My efforts were in vain, as each attempt resulted in bellies shaking in laughter, echoing my original sentiments.

If you have any intent to purchase this album, please reconsider and pick up a thesaurus and a He is Legend CD instead. Then mail the items to Across Five Aprils, which, if done in mass quantities, will hopefully result in an album 10 times that of Collapse. Sadly, 10 times zero is still zero.