The Distance The Rise The Fall And Everything In Between

It's been said before and I will say it again: cover art is a key component to any and every record. How you choose to gussy up and present your music is as revealing and important as the music itself. The argument could be made that cover art has lost all relevancy with the advent of internet filesharing. Yet for the authentic music aficionado, the way your record is decorated matters. Thus it is with great wariness we delve into The Distance's first full-length, The Rise The Fall and Everything in Between. A quick glance may indicate this to be the new Avril Lavigne album, perhaps even Kelly Clarkson's new single. A young woman bathed in make-up of purple hues looks forlornly askew, perhaps at the coterie of reveling adolescents in the background. Could she be the object of the lyrics on the album, those limning the implosion of a romantic relationship Perhaps the author intends to wish ill will upon her in the guise of total ostracization from her friends. Or he uses poetic license to use the girl to embody his feelings of loss and alienation. Whatever the intention, an ugly cover does not help the blasé rock tunes lumbering on the disc beneath. The Distance tempers their previous constant hardcore assault with slower tempos and clearly sung vocals. Maybe White Trash Rob's more pop-minded experiments with Ramallah affected Distance chief Jay Reason. There's a similar penchant for fusing tough punk songs with strains of melody and more emo-tional moments (though don't expect any Beatles covers a la Kill a Celebrity). The Distance demonstrate their strengths on this release, mostly in the guitar work. It's effective throughout and recalls the spiraling-lead-happy playing of Tom Capone back in his hardcore days with Beyond and Bold. But don't expect any of those bands' fury to erupt in The Distance. Though many songs feature a Comeback Kid-like galloping beat, the prevalent leitmotif is mid-tempo rock. "Inspired By You" sounds like it was written for Fuse airplay, an almost Fat Records number with lyrics bemoaning lost love. They throw in production tricks towards the song's end, with the rousing chorus, "This song's never ending." "Let it Rain" encapsulates the musical and lyrical themes of the record. Reason questions the relationship, then he begins singing and screaming, "I'm over you..Just let it rain." The words become even more mawkish, "I'm feeling like myself again.. I've walked away." As with several songs, the singing is backed up with screaming refrains. It's far too predictable and typical of any band performing this brand of emo-tional rock. The Distance doesn't add much to the already saturated market. The one sheet highlights The Used singer dude Bert McCracken guest yowling on "At Least I'm Good At Something." The song is right up there (or down there depending on your preference) with Underoath and Hawthorne Heights, with the melodic music and the singing and the dude screaming and it sounds sterile and synthetic like these songs were written in an operating room. I'm sure the band has genuine emotions to convey. But in this environment it all comes across processed and pre-packaged. Bert wails away in the chorus like a cat with an M80 jammed down its throat. Next time leave this guy with his usual crew or back home with Kelly and her Osbournes. Despite my cynical carping, one cannot deny that some of the material contains a modicum of hooks. They are by no means the second coming of The Knack or The Beach Boys. But there are those faint glimmers of pop song sensibility. If they can outlast the current trends and excavate their inner creative beings for genuine daring, they might have something compelling to offer next time around. Bottom Line: The Distance has gone to great distances to shed their more raucous hardcore past. They haven't found an adequate replacement. But they do display some hope that their newfound desire to cram melody into their tunes will come to bear palatable fruit next time around.