Sage Shemroske

“Crop Top Core” band Bob Ross Mob Boss lead with the heart and the reverb on their new EP Everything’s Chrome in the Future (out 02/07).

The tumultuous new EP from Bob Ross Mob Boss, Everything’s Chrome in the Future, introduces itself with a disarming self-awareness. Vocalist and guitarist Bray Fischer sings “again and again I recall/the gravity of my own fall” on the opening track ‘Barricade’. The four piece are propelled forward by a heart-on-your-sleeve approach, their emo influence evident in their collective ethos. On ‘Never Meant to Live’ vocalist and guitarist Aaron Mylungs sings “and I know that I wanna stay alive/but sometimes I don't try” with a teen angst that has morphed into adult depression. There is a desire to get better on Everything’s Chrome in the Future, but recovery is never a linear process; self care goes out the window when simply existing another day feels overwhelming. Nick Howe’s drumming accentuates the latter half of the track, pummeling over the vocals and muscling the song forward before allowing the guitars to cauterize the end. This EP is swathed in fuzz with guitar solos baked in and prolonged outros adding a final flourish. Bob Ross Mob Boss’ music is perhaps the opposite of no nonsense, their generous use of reverb being one of their more distinguishing traits. On the other hand, they feel so deeply it’s almost brutal. ‘Honestly, Honesty’ emerges from toxicity, navigating how to trust anyone’s word after becoming so used to dishonesty and neglect. The track is plucked out string by string, staggering in and out of a metal guitar hook before Emme Krofta pulls back the commanding bass and allows for the lens to refocus on Mylungs’ drawl. Everything’s Chrome in the Future is textured, steely guitars rushing in with an in your face bass. The band is careful to choose which transitions are seamless and which bum rush you. They’re masters in tonal changes, weaving their love for the fuzzed out and fried with their post punk inspiration. This adds to the EP’s consistency, creating new languages out of previously frayed genres. The guitars ping off each other for a twang that manages to complement the painstaking lyrics. It surges forward, honest and pulsing, the band paying respect to what’s kept them alive this long. Bob Ross Mob Boss self describe as “chronic oversharers” and that’s more than apparent here. ‘I’m Ok (I Promise)’ drifts in, a poetic controlled burn. “It's the softly falling snow settling in the trees/it's a deep night forest of evergreen” harmonize Fischer and Mylungs. The moments where Fischer’s gravelly baritone intersect with Mylungs add dimension, bolstering their narratives instead of overwhelming them. ‘What’s Past is Prologue’ is a track scored by self sabotage, the band grappling with a grief they feel for themselves. A wavering, elastic guitar solo carries us into a warped interlude. “I thought that I would know me better/after all this time/turns out I hurt me the most”, the sound turns haunted, distorting Emotional Dorm Room into Shoegaze Inspired Shredder. Everything’s Chrome in the Future lingers, it’s not immediate but drawn out, inviting you to step in and wallow and be bandaged. On the emotional anchor of the album, ‘Pressure’, Fischer is left to carry the vocals. But they seem to take the burden with pride. It’s the first time they sound in control, giving the EP a perfect character arc. “I love the ride/but I fear the crash” sings Fischer- when you are finally able to depart from the sadness and toxicity you’ve become accustomed to it can feel like waiting for the other shoe to drop. The guitars are metallic and syncopated, taking over the bass. Eventually the rhythm crashes into itself before fading out. Though many chronic oversharers tend to suffer from word vomit as well, Bob Ross Mob Boss are intentional, the six songs satisfying the same as a full album. The band coaxes out each track, letting us marinate in it. Though I’m not a proponent of long songs Bob Ross Mob Boss have created something worth the wait. They’re never killing time but taking us in for as long as they can before having no choice but to move forward.

Keep Up With Bob Ross Mob Boss

Facebook + Twitter + Instagram

Bob Ross Mob Boss will be playing an EP release show at the 7th st. Entry on February 16th

Self-described “all trans band” 4th Curtis release their EP, Invisible Ax today (11/29)

In the time leading up to the release they’ve taken to tweeting under “LIZZIE BORDEN” (though they are known for changing their username whenever it suits them). And in Invisible Ax it’s all funny ‘til it’s not. On the opening track ‘Nonstop’ lead vocalist and guitarist Lex Noens sings “blood on my guitar strings makes me feel so intense”, making Taylor Swift’s teardrops null in comparison. This opener is both a testament to what they’re willing to drain themselves of and what has been taken from them. The vocals and keys of Ty Gale shine on ‘Marie Antoinette’, playing a posh minor tone that almost mocks Maddie Morley’s energetic drumming. And 4th Curtis’ impeccable charm is ever present, Noens comparing themselves to Marie Antoinette because their “rack is huge”. Noens and Gale have a knack for singing their gags with the same seriousness as their anxieties, lyrics like “I want to be the older woman my kid’s friends want to fuck” are treated with purpose. Everything on Invisible Ax is heightened, and when Gale sings “do you think I’m pretty?” it’s with painful sincerity. Invisible Ax has a keen way of answering its own questions.

From a distance the EP is a catchy onslaught with a dark sense of humor but up close it’s wringing its hands and asking you a very important question, afraid of being just an exposed body. The stand out track is ‘Julius Cesar’, Noens seering with pop vigor. Invisible Ax never allows anything to sound as dire as it really is, it bobs and weaves in constant motion. “Julius Cesar died last night/the throne is mine for the taking”. The throne- what it must be like to briefly feel full despite so much emptiness. To see a piece of a person who you’ll never wholly experience again. When all else fails we desire a place we consider home and someone to call our names in a way that sounds familiar, but that warmth has long been forgotten. There’s a painful irony aching inside Invisible Ax: 4th Curtis is giving every piece of themselves, their limbs and bodily fluids, but the one thing being demanded of them is something they don’t have to give. Morley drives ‘Goth Fuck’ (or as the lyric sheet for the press reads “spelled Goth F-ck if not allowed in a specific application)”, the most self indicting piece of the EP. But the rock interlude with Gale and Morley softly ‘ooh-ing’ as backup suggests otherwise. “I want to hurt him/I want him to like it” sings Noens, 4th Curtis never being ones to write themselves as strongest on the page. As artists they find themselves both the protagonist and antagonist of their own lives. They are a comedy and a tragedy, their own greek chorus piling in and reminding us of the existence of sadness and love and pain and memes.

When you run out of ways to write about sadness or grief or oppression you weaponize it. You turn it into heated sax solos and irresistible melodies. The EP closes with the blistering ‘No Artist’, Noens and Gale lamenting “why do I always break for the broken ones?” They are focused and loving. 4th Curtis plays the self-deprecating role well, but this EP involves comparisons to Marie Antoinette, the Virgin Mary, Julius Cesar, and Lizzie Borden- people known for the way they exchange flesh. But the band isn’t a broken limb or a drained vessel, they’re the weapon, the wielder, the predator. They’re unflinching. Their sense of humor congeals it together, death and sweetness thickening to concrete in order to support the emotional weight. Invisible Ax explores pain in a way that is clever and catchy and for whatever reason, historical. It is difficult work asking people to listen to your flaws and not asking them to absolve you of guilt in return but to sit with you inside it. And in doing so they’ve transmogrified their sound completely. Invisible Ax, in name alone, is not an invitation but a statement of intent. It is waiting, unseen, indicative of what’s to come with absolute precision. And did 4th Curtis get away with it? Of course they did. But the axe is double ended. Like the EP’s poster child Lizzie Borden, they’ve gotten away with it all. But they still carry the evidence with them.

Keep Up With 4th Curtis

Instagram + Twitter + Bandcamp

Bob Ross Mob Boss Grapple With Their Past and Present on Everything's Chrome in the Future

All Blood: A Review of Invisible Ax