Chapter 1: Lessons Learned With Blisters on Broken Cheekbones.

On a quiet street on a nameless day as any other, a boy by any other name awakes in cold sweats and utter confusion. Late nights swirl recklessly in his head as the sweet scent of love lost and cheap liquor congeal amongst the clotted bloodstains on his polo’s upper crest. As disastrous a moment as prescribed by his intensive snap at the bottle, all rings cathartic in his mind’s eye. Sordid memories of crooked teeth, lost keys, and erroneous friends drive him to such states, coercing his trembling fingers to practice penmanship as his imagination strums complacent chords. His story is simple, bitter and then some: Lover and friend, respectively intimate and platonic, destroy the barrier between trust and hormonal requisition. Curvature and sexual charm yield chivalry obtuse. Monsieur Anon drags his feet home amidst a cloud of ash to pen songs which discuss the boredom, betrayal, vengeance, and eternal youth consuming a lovesick young adult. Spiritual murder is reported with a pop-punk edge.

Chapter 2: Gazing Past the Tusk of Regret to Wrench Deeper Within the Heart of Experimentation.

As two long years pass, the boy anxiously watches sunset horizons as countless peers borrow, expand upon, and trivialize his heartache. His work of promise allows him time to reflect upon its misfortunes as he delves deeper into broader consciousness. The boy’s past afflictions, though once sincere, heal over. Friends reacquired through hard talks and determination rather than sonic ranting. He approaches his projects with a subtle tremor and watchful step, careful not to retread his past achievement in his attempts to steer in a new direction. Proceedings are slower, precise, thought over. The boy is not afraid to let silence speak just as loud as his guitar. While his approach is lauded, inconsistency plagues his progress. Headstrong in his momentum, the boy goes to sleep for three years, occasionally waking for an appearance.

Chapter 3: The Discovery of Death or: Fear the Hereafter and its Questionability, This Experience is For Those Wishing Never To Return.

Brand New hit a peak in 2006 with The Devil and God Are Raging Inside Me. The band utilized a quiet to loud aesthetic that meticulously searched its sonic space for an underlying answer. It was mysterious, it was creepy, and above all, it was extraordinary. Expanding upon their promise contained in 2003′s Deja Entendu, the young band matured in their abilities to write true songs, constructing ambience and climactic sound in its intrinsic space. It is now 2009, and after another three years in the dark, the boys from Merrick, composed rhythmically of Garrett Tierny on bass, drummer Brian Lane, guitarist Vin Accardi, and guitarist/vocalist/mastermind Jesse Lacey, have unleashed Daisy unto the masses.

Instantly different and distinctly unlike everything the band has ever stood for, Daisy opens as a gospel piece before exploding into the raucous “Vices,” a song that brings back the more visceral moments heard on Your Favorite Weapon, while completely eschewing them. The heaviest song the band has ever laid to tape, guitars screech, halt, and twist with reckless abandon as Tierny holds a groove underneath stronger than that of “Sic Transit Gloria… Glory Fades.” The song has an undeniable funkiness, a catchy chorus, and features a side of Lacey most listeners will be shocked to hear. “Bed” is softer and better focused, evoking the ghostly undercurrents permeating Devil and God. “Gasoline” and “Sink” exemplify catharsis, where the prior jerks between barely controlled anxiety and furious outbursts while the latter keeps its pills in check.

It is on this album that the band fully embrace their indie-rock leanings. Lacey and co. evoke a wide range of artists from Joan of Arc and Fireside to Modest Mouse, an influence fully worn on their respective sleeve. Daisy‘s single, “At the Bottom,” finds Lacey re-imagining Isaac Brock, while “You Stole” is the band’s very own “The Stars Are Projectors.” “Be Gone” and the aforementioned “Sink” take cues from the indie masters, but by no means plagiarize. Quite the opposite, as the band respects its influences while simultaneously paying homage to them. “Daisy,” “In a Jar,” and closer “Noro” form an extended conclusion to the preceding soundscapes, hauntingly tearing at the listener without conforming to any “emo” connotation thrown at the band in their earlier days.

Themes of fire and feedback run throughout the Daisy. Where Devil and God… set its musical and lyrical insight on death and fear of the afterlife, Daisy is the bumpy trip through it. Lacey is fully embracing and vanquishing his demons here, where his friends are but bodies at the bottom of the ocean, his sleeping patterns disrupted by flames and ever-speeding chariots through gasoline tinged landmarks. Additionally, “At the Bottom” explores a purgatory in which Lacey contemplates death in a manner far darker than he did on “Jesus Christ.” Where Devil and God… utilized silence and spaciousness to evoke its dark and introspective atmosphere, Daisy prides itself on painting past the borders in its audible soundscape. Layers of vocals, guitars, noise, and creative employment of feedback work to encapsulate the listener rather than overwhelm. Accordingly, the proceedings feel more eclectic and noticeable, begging the listener to return to the proceedings in the hopes of discovering another nuance in the recording.

Daisy is a near perfect recording. From beginning to end, there is never a dull moment. The proceedings are logical, if unexpected, when compared alongside their previous releases. If ever a record rewarded fans for waiting through periods of terse experimentation, Daisy is it. One can only wonder where Brand New will travel next.  Chapter 4 begins now.

(8.8/10)