Opening bands really are the worst.
That’s not to say that they aren’t sometimes good, but rather they are an often unwelcome addition to your concert-going experience, forced upon you if you want a good spot in the crowd or to get a good buzz going. You stand there awkwardly for forty minutes, clapping respectfully as guys in jeans pour themselves into songs that you don’t know and couldn’t care less about.
Then why, while I watched one of my most personally influential bands play some of my favorite songs last fall, did I find myself pondering the lush guitar tones, innovative bass approach, tight drumming, and freakishly riveting vocal performance of their opening act? Why, after the concert, was I crushing so hard that I contacted the opening band and renewed my work as a music journalist just so I could get their new album in my hands?
That’s just what Deleted Scenes does to a man.
Let me fill you in on the band, if your life was as incomplete as mine was. Deleted Scenes is a four-piece art-pop-rock act based in Washington, DC, but the members hail from everywhere from Nebraska to New York. This is a tough path for any band, but one that produces unquestionably unique results. The dreamy aesthetic guitar-fueled rockers underwent a creative shift before recording their latest effort, Lithium Burn, opting to write the material as a band in a room together, which is a novel concept for a diaspora band.
By all accounts this process led the guys to a more truthful sound and one that fully taps the best of all four members. As much as I’d like to have seen that journey firsthand, I must say it is nice to join Dan Scheuerman, Matt Dowling, Dominic Campanaro, and Ricardo Lagomasino on this creative mountaintop.
The resulting album is an unquestionably brilliant studio work featuring clever use of percussion, just the right amount of vocal effects, and the kind of careful tone crafting that can only be accomplished by a lot of late night studio love. But its main strength is how it aggressively captures the group’s live energy. When you listen to Lithium Burn, you are there with them, experiencing everything Deleted Scenes went through to make this record happen. Having heard the songs live first, all of the moments that were etched in my mind for months are here, executed with grace and a sledgehammer.
I could wax philosophically to you about Deleted Scenes’ artful sense of chord progressions and the perfect time changes – and those things are important – but where Lithium Burn succeeds is right in the guts. Lead singer Dan Scheuerman drags you kicking and screaming into his life, forcing you to experience relationship trauma, the struggles of being an indie band, and an appropriately cynical view of politics and people, all through a decidedly fragile lens. It’s hardly comfortable, but it’s all just so honest that it’s impossible to not be taken by it. That all of this happens over an often deceptively pleasant musical backdrop makes the experience all the more intense.
Lithium Burn is a captivatingly personal music experience. It’s creative and forthright in a way that few modern records are, and it’s instantly refreshing to hear a band who isn’t afraid to let everything out there. If nothing in this review did it for you, at least watch the video featuring Screech from Saved by the Bell and enjoy that such a thing exists. But I hope you’ll do a lot more.
Bands like Deleted Scenes don’t show up all that often, and they damn sure shouldn’t be opening for anyone.
Quick hits:
Standout Tracks – “Let’s Not Try to Fixing Everything at Once,” which is designed to give indie musicians a panic attack, and the blissfully perfect “House of Dust.”
Sorry Everyone Else – Three of my favorite bands (The Bad Plus, Animals as Leaders, and Nickel Creek) have all put out records this year, and I can’t put down Deleted Scenes’ Lithium Burn.
One Nitpick – The track “Caught in the Brights” ends in a glorious guitar throw down backed by perfectly placed drum fills, but it fades out at the height of its instrumental glory. I can only assume this decision was made to drive me insane.
De-tweet-ed Scenes – Sorry, that joke was too terrible to not put out there. I’m embarrassed. Anyway, these guys put on a pretty great Twitter front. Follow them and get ready for the whimsy/the pithiness.
Rating: 4.5/5