Labels: self released
Review by: Andy Malcolm
Anyone paying more than scant attention to some of the stuff I’ve been reviewing of late will no doubt have noticed my tendancy to sneak the name “Twelve Hour Turn” in with alarming regularity. Oddly enough, that event will occur in this here writing too.
12HT became something of an obsession for me since I picked up the split 12″ with the equally suicide-inclination-inducing I Hate Myself, and heard the song “Pennyloafer”. Since then the process of learning where other tracks can be found has led me on a merry dance. And now, I’ve finally found what appears to be the only record on which they own both sides. 3 tracks recorded back in ’97, a year before that afforementioned 12″ split, but the evidence is there of exactly how awesome this band were soon to become.
First up is the ragged “Our Son Is Dead” (you get the picture). Breaks in with aggressive hardcore, and totally painful screams and backups, spirals into a Moonraker style groove, through a sample and back into the crying. They even take a break for the dark indie-emo jangles which always sound better in the context of a song like this than performed starkly on their lonesome. Then there is “An optional” which brings to mind a kind of more hardcore Braid or even Spy versus Spy sound with it’s gently swaying intro that before long is bringing the hits and the dual vocalists are hollering and shouting over the rock. Again they slow everything down and get pretty later – this band sure knows how to get the twinkle on. Political lyrics too, which makes a change.
B-side contains the epic “Weary” which initially brings it to you Boilermaker style with a touch of I Hate Myself, slowly rocking from side to side, but with actual sung vocals! I didn’t know 12HT could sing. Don’t worry though, they do get desperate and start wailing when they eventually crank the guitars up. And they do follow their formula of putting in a pretty bit later on, there definitely does seem much more of a ‘blueprint’ for these songs than on that split 12″. Still, these are still songs that can make me want to tear my hair out one minute, then lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling the next.
Messy emo packaging ‘n’ all with scratchy handwritten lyrics, obscure photographs and paintings, and an extremely odd extract from a script. A long with the music, I don’t know what else I could ask for. Just some more Twelve Hour Turn I guess.