Sum 41 - Does This Look Infected?

During my early teen years, I spent a weekend at a camp for members of local 4H groups, at which we were supposed to develop leadership skills. From the start, I had found the entire idea cheesy and lame, and so I made sure to bring some tunes along with me to keep myself entertained. The main disc that accompanied me was Sum 41’s Does This Look Infected?, which I spun endlessly each evening in my bunk. However, returning to it almost a decade later, I’ve found myself unable to recall anything but the radio singles, prompting me to this time give the record a deep and thoughtful listen, to see if these tunes can sink as deeply as they did all those years ago. 

            The band’s second full-length release, Does This Look Infected? delivers an invigorating and novel concoction of the pop-punk sound that blew Sum 41 into the charts and the heavy metal influences on which the members were raised. Though power chords and catchy choruses abound, Sum 41 dips into its heavier sensibilities, adding double bass runs, drop tunings, and even some screamed vocals. Brownsound shreds his strings to shadows, seeming to play every possible note on the fretboard, while Steve-O 32 simulates a tsunami in his speedy beats and booming fills. Bizzy D explores his extensive vocal range, singing pop-driven melodies one moment before shouting angrily through the next. Capping this quartet is the humble bass stylings of Cone, who drives his lines through intricate changes and rhythms that most punk and metal bands never approach. Despite jamming in genres hardly known for their technicality, Sum 41 manages to provide fun and energetic music that is hardly formulaic.

            Between the songwriting and the equipment, Does This Look Infected? has a completely distinct flavor. With the exception of a muddy bass guitar, the overall mix is remarkable: the lows explode like cherry bombs in storm drains while the highs squeal at volumes that rival a threatened macaque. Though apparently the mix is Bizzy’s only regret for this album,[1] in my opinion the guitars especially benefit, boasting a grungy and ragged tone that has a serious metal growl. Andy Wallace’s affectation of the record’s sound perfectly complements the genre-blurring musicianship and composition, letting the band tear through its slash-beat punk riffs as easily as they pound through palm-muted metal madness. Even the layout of the songs captures the specific energy of the album, with focus equally presented in both sing-along choruses which any listener would be daft to ignore, and heavy, intricate instrumental sections that exhibit how tight this act is. No matter what song you decide to sample, there is no doubt which record that tune calls home, or what band has had the audacity to create it.

            If one song completely encapsulates the sound, energy, and approach of Does This Look Infected?, I would place my money on “Mr. Amsterdam,” which flawlessly merges every element that is Sum 41 into a rocking monster. Opening with syncopated hits, the band suddenly rolls into a circle-pit punk progression that beckons frenzy. Bizzy D takes center in this song, using an angst-driven vocal to vent his disgust with the xenophobic and whiny world in which we all resign to reside. His repetition of “I’ve said this before…”[2] at the beginning of the verses is poignant and intelligent, and the call-and-response moments between singing and screaming drive the song to incredible sonic heights. The song rides the vocals through two verses before diving into a hardcore instrumental outro loaded with sonorous drum fills and tremolo-picking that could rival most speed-metal guitarists. Sum 41 then races to the finish, halting on a dissonant and unresolved minor second, denying the listener closure and mustering a thirst for more. “Mr. Amsterdam” denies conventions in structure, notation and even feel, yet kicks ass from inception to death, a homunculus of the awesome lifeblood flowing through this record.

            Despite their relative youth and their goofy stage names, the precision with which Sum 41 performs on this record demonstrates logic and maturity, and both attributes are equally and expertly expressed in Bizzy D’s lyrics. It is apparent he has a complete handle on intelligent use of rhyme and consonance, employing feminine rhyme in the chorus of “No Brains” with the lines “I’ve had enough frustration…this dead-end situation,”[3] while riding digraph sounds in “Thanks For Nothing:” “No patience / this nation’s / obsessed with exploitation.”[4] In line with his mechanics are his topics, as he eschews well-worn teenage issues in favor of serious subject matter, including suicide and ineffective social institutions. However, he doesn’t completely abandon the humor for which Sum 41 is famous; he scathingly attacks Anna Nicole Smith in the miniature “A.N.I.C.”[5] and relives drunken forays in “Over My Head (Better Off Dead).”[6] Bizzy D uses his lyrics to explore all aspects of his life at that time, accepting his adventurous youth without denying the burgeoning adult within, letting Does This Look Infected? remain lively while flirting with the cognitive.

              In terms of responsibility and maturity, perhaps the weightiest tune on this record is the one that kicks it off. “The Hell Song,” a pop-punk drag racer and the second single off of Does This Look Infected?, is not only one of Bizzy D’s favorite tunes on the record[7], but also the vehicle for addressing a serious topic: HIV. Having written the song shortly after finding out an ex-girlfriend had contracted the virus, his lyrics carefully describe his reaction to the news, as well as the life-shattering effect it had. He observes his newfound mortality with the line “I feel I’ve come to realize / How fast life can be compromised,” while acknowledging how beyond his control the whole situation as he says “I feel so useless in this.” Despite the shocked, almost despairing tone, he attends to the idea of responsibility associated with sexually transmitted diseases as he asks “Why do things that matter the most / Never end up being what we chose?”[8] With “The Hell Song,” Bizzy D utilizes gentle metaphor and catchy melody to face a troubling reality while also asserting how he too must be held accountable for his actions and his reactions in this life.

            After again burying myself in this record’s embrace, over a decade since my first exposure, I find it easy to understand what middle-school-me found so enticing. Though this record has its indecencies—Bizzy D too often sacrifices syntax to fit in a rhyme, and the first half of “Hooch” is suspiciously reminiscent of “Boom” by P.O.D.—I have no trouble drifting in its sonic waves, and what’s more, I don’t feel dumber for having listened to it. With Does This Look Infected, Sum 41 infuses intelligence, maturity, and variety into their pop-punk moniker, providing me with rocking tunes that resound as deeply now as they did when my biggest obstacle was summer boredom and responsibility was something I could still avoid. And with each subsequent spin as I careen down my daily commute, I pray that when this record next drifts into my path, the thirty-something me will discover as much meaning and truth in it as did the boy lying on the bottom bunk, mouthing along to the worlds and drowning out the world he had yet to encounter.

Tunes to Check Out:

1) No Brains

2) Mr. Amsterdam

3) The Hell Song

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[1] http://www.absolutepunk.net/showthread.php?t=2963472

[2] http://www.plyrics.com/lyrics/sum41/mramsterdam.html

[3] http://www.plyrics.com/lyrics/sum41/nobrains.html

[4] http://www.plyrics.com/lyrics/sum41/thanksfornothing.html

[5] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Does_This_Look_Infected%3F#Background_and_release

[6] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Over_My_Head_(Better_Off_Dead)#Background_and_writing

[7] http://www.absolutepunk.net/showthread.php?t=2963472

[8] http://www.plyrics.com/lyrics/sum41/hellsong.html

Between the Buried & Me - Alaska

            My life in relation to music mirrors a multi-stage rocket blasting through the atmosphere. My initial exposure lay in my dad’s classic rock collection, all Black Sabbath and Deep Purple; my second dose came in my early teen years with my best friend’s expansive collection of pop-punk and alternative from the 90’s, while the third wave broke in high school with my immersion into ska. Up until that point, the heaviest music on my iPod might have been Mudvayne’s radio-friendly hits, until a mix CD of hardcore music somehow drifted into my hands. Among others, engraved on that disc was the guttural and grueling “Autodidact” by Between the Buried & Me, the first song I’d ever heard that truly scared me. Its squealing pinch harmonics, throaty screams, and thundering blast beats were unlike anything I’d ever heard, and urged me to delve deeper into the darkness of hardcore. After only a few weeks, BTBAM’s Alaska found its way into my car stereo, kicking off the fourth stage of my musical ascent.

            Naturally, the initial terror I felt in sampling this band was only magnified when I began to listen to the full record; however, I quickly learned that this band could reach both brutality and beauty. Alaska features a broad spectrum of sounds, showcasing both this band’s unbelievable technical skills and their diverse approach to composition. Complicated time signature changes abound on the record, but Between the Buried & Me glides through them with ease, alternating between 3/4 and 4/4 in “All Bodies” and “The Primer” and trudging through a slowly collapsing 7/4 section in “Roboturner.” Paul Waggoner and Dustie Waring prove themselves as free-range guitarists, chugging and sweeping through “The Primer,” fiddling with syncopated madness in “Autodidact,” and fingerpicking and comping along the Latin-tinged “Laser Speed.” Blake Richardson hammers his drums in impulsive blast beats before dumping the clutch into low gear grooves, all four limbs flavoring each tune with improvisational syncope hits. Even the vocal spectrum is explored, as Tommy Rogers drops into deep and unintelligible growls in tunes like “Croakies and Boat Shoes,” only to amaze with gentle and spirited melodies such as in “Selkies: An Endless Obsession.” Being the first full-band writing effort for BTBAM,[1] Alaska seems to dip into every genre available, all while maintaining the band’s unique voice. Though much of their music spelunks in the abyss of deathcore, the spread of sounds, feels, and energies on this record proves that for Between the Buried & Me, genre labels hardly dictate behavior.

            The heavy nature of death metal is perhaps universally defined by three things: detuned guitars, bullet train drumming, and gruff screams shaped at the very bottom of the lungs. Often, virtually no room is left for basswork in such a formula (especially since guitar tunings regularly reflect drop C or lower, making a bass all but unnecessary); yet, as is their forte, BTBAM refuses to play into genre stereotypes, and with a weapon in their arsenal like Dan Briggs, it is obvious they made the right choice. Rather than drowning in the noise, Briggs lays down a heavy foundation with mosaic, jazzy lines, building on each successive rhythmic idea like the strata of a canyon wall, filling any available spotlight with sick tone and incredible finesse without outshining the rest of the band.

            One tune in which the bass shatters the mold is the certifiable “Roboturner,” a seven-minute onslaught of distortion and screams. Though perhaps as metal as it gets on this record, the star of “Roboturner” is undeniably Briggs, who slips through all the chugs with complicated walking lines that run the entire length of the song, not to mention a groove composed of chords and even a short sweep. The tune jumps between tempos and time signatures before finally crashing into the last suite, a 7/8 trudge introduced, of course, by Brigg’s overdrive-soaked thumping. The suite trudges on, slowly decreasing in tempo, before being swept back into the groove of chords and runs that leads “Roboturner” to its banging conclusion. Briggs dominates the composition on this piece, making damn sure that every listener knows that, though Alaska may fall under the deathcore label, the seventh track unequivocally belongs to the bass.  

            If Alaska is any example, Between the Buried & Me is a group that loves music enough to approach it with both heart and mind, and at the helm of this titanic stands Tommy Rogers, whose lyrical and vocal contributions shape the tone of the record’s though processes. Rogers seems to approach his lyrics from multiple standpoints, sometimes serious and accusatory: “Selkies: An Endless Obsession” criticize the capitalization of love and art with lines like “Market this change / exploit this idea of innocence,”[2] while “Croakies and Boat Shoes” attacks the faultless and condescending attitude synonymous of the “suburban elite.”[3] But despite the sinister tone of the music, Rogers also shows his humorous side through his writing, using the title track to explore insomnia and its effects with quips like “I’m fucking delirious right now…Not the best time for lyrics I suppose.”[4] Rogers presents a variety of tones and attitudes in his lyrics; however, he unfortunately slips into the cliché drawback of fronting a hardcore band where those lyrics are all but lost in his delivery. Alaska is loaded with both powerful singing and violent screaming, but the latter, being Rogers’ preferred method, completely drowns his poetic and literary senses in favor of intensity. Though his performance is quite spectacular in both realms of vocalization, the ratio of sing:scream unfortunately keeps much of his lyrics from being deciphered or understood.

            As is the rub with all technical musicians, much of the composition of Alaska, being both complicated and theory-based, runs the risk of erasing the emotional and human imprint of the performers. Many listeners find themselves unable to connect with music that has been dissected like a dead frog; diminished chords, tritones, and shifting tempos, while being interesting intellectual ideas, ring dissonantly in the ears of a non-musician. Truth be told, although there a lot of great ideas at play, between tremolo picking and quadruple kicks on the bass drum, some of Alaska devolves into pure noise. Chord progressions are lost in babbling tempos, taking significance they might have imparted into the abyss. However, unlike their colleagues, Between the Buried & Me refuse to stick to one formula or sound, peppering otherwise hectic compositions with moments of beauty. They even reserve three instrumental tracks to showcase their diverse and human sides, allowing the listener to find a foothold in tunes such as “Medicine Wheel” or “Laser Speed,” before diving into the dark waters of “Alaska” or “The Primer.”

            Because of this band’s dichotomous approach to their music, reserving moments for both technicality and luminosity, perhaps the most diverse song on this record is one that juxtaposes both. “Backwards Marathon,” Alaska’s longest composition, literally explodes into existence with headbanging rhythmic riff that would make most metalheads lose their cool. The song only gets heavier, sliding downhill into rhythmic chugs and sweeps like a house into a sinkhole. The instrumentation holds onto this anger for almost half the song, until suddenly falling into a gorgeous bridge, a repeating cycle of 5/4 and 6/4, championed by an innocent bass riff. Rogers’ chant of “It’s raining”[5] perfectly captures the gentle shape of this new section, whose gentle guitars and tingling ride cymbal create the image of the lightest of drizzles. The sheer magnificence of this section completely contrasts with the lunacy that preceded it, until, after culminating in a high and powerful vocal note, it explodes back into the intro riff, only to conclude in a heavy yet charming outro. “Backwards Marathon” is BTBAM’s treaty with the listener, a complex and delicious mix of both their technical musicianship and their soulful creativity.

            Though perhaps not the most accessible record, Alaska blends a myriad of genres and focuses them through the talented prism that is Between the Buried & Me. These musicians ostensibly know what they’re doing when it comes to music, and such a truth assures any listener music that is both complete and thought-provoking. Furthermore, this band compromises none of its vision or ability for anyone—Between the Buried & Me is making exactly the music it wants to, refusing to play into genre standards or stereotypes or to settle for less. “We don’t ever want money to get in the way of what we are doing,” says Rogers. “We just want to make the music we love.”[6] There is no illusion or compromise in their art, only five guys having a damn good time jamming together, and such honesty is what urged me to explore the word of hardcore, and what has kept me digging to this day.  

Tunes to Check Out:
1) Backwards Marathon
2) Selkies: An Endless Obsession
3) Roboturner

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[1] http://www.teethofthedivine.com/features/interview-with-between-the-buried-and-me/

[2] http://www.darklyrics.com/lyrics/betweentheburiedandme/alaska.html#4

[3] http://www.darklyrics.com/lyrics/betweentheburiedandme/alaska.html#3

[4] http://www.darklyrics.com/lyrics/betweentheburiedandme/alaska.html#2

[5] http://www.darklyrics.com/lyrics/betweentheburiedandme/alaska.html#7

[6] http://www.teethofthedivine.com/features/interview-with-between-the-buried-and-me/