Kerosene Heights – Blame It On The Weather | Album Review
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SideOneDummy Records
I miss everything about last summer. In transition from a long-time retail job to a responsible grown-up job, I found myself feeling ecstatic and optimistic about the future. There’s a sort of head-rushing excitement that comes when you make a leap-of-faith type decision in an otherwise mundane existence. Things in my life, at that time, felt hopeful – like I had managed to figure this thing out just a bit for once. For that summer, I was taking the win and relishing in it. Despite a promising outcome of that career change, life doesn’t always play out the way that we hope. In the end, we’ll leave it at, “I guess some things are just worth forgetting.”
That declaration stands true for Asheville punks Kerosene Heights on their sophomore LP, Blame It On The Weather. The aptly titled album draws inspiration from the devastating cyclone Hurricane Helene, which inflicted considerable damage throughout the southeastern United States, particularly in the band’s home state of North Carolina. Vocalist and guitarist Chance Smith wastes little time injecting the aforementioned mantra into the group’s newest release, as track one, “Sunsetting,” sets a somber, contemplative tone from the start. Anyone familiar with Kerosene Heights’ catalog knows there is seldom a dull track throughout; the emo-punk group is known for punchy, in-your-face songwriting, so for “Sunsetting” to start the record on such a pensive note is significant, clearly telegraphing the state in which the band members find themselves this time around.
Approaching the first anniversary of Helene’s damage to NC, we can certainly sympathize with the band’s desire to move on from the destruction and loss left in its wake. A similar message rings throughout the following track, “Forget It,” the crux of which revolves around the line, “Oh just forget it / I wouldn’t be able to say it right now / Just know that I still think about you / All the time / Everytime.” Whether the track is aimed at a love interest, existence-altering natural disasters, or just life in general, one truism remains: the things we try to forget the most often end up sticking to us like glue.
Even with consistently propulsive pop-punk energy, the band’s songwriting is steeped in the pessimistic and self-loathing style of emo that the genre was built on. Kerosene Heights don’t stray far from this approach on their second album, but know well enough to temper that downtrodden lyricism with absurdly catchy melodies and immensely satisfying riffage. The album’s first single, “Waste of Time,” is the poster child for this method, as Smith beckons, “It takes one to know one / but I feel like I’m a no one” sung amidst erratic guitar riffs and double-time drum rhythms. On the topic of catchy and replayable, the second single, “New Tattoo,” was a fan favorite on release, and for good reason; the track is a hopeless romantic’s anthem at its core. Smith’s commentary in this track is that of a new relationship feeling much like that of a new tattoo– thrilling, painful, spontaneous, uncomfortable at times, but ultimately, a commitment to who you are now and who you aim to be. This idea, paired with an Earth-shattering breakdown to close out, makes for a true-blue banger emo track.
The latter half of the album magnifies its themes, particularly the struggle with adapting to change. A fair observation, considering we are living in a world that is evolving much too fast for us to genuinely adapt to healthily. Whether you’re talking about rapidly accelerating technology, an overwhelming torrent of horrible news, or disasters that threaten to displace you and everything you know, change is happening one way or another. This is a theme that I waxed poetic about in my review for Charmer’s Downpour just a few months ago. My stance on that record’s message is that we often look elsewhere to ease our frustrations and failures in life: the weather, our hometown, the government, before looking at ourselves as the culprit. Kerosene Heights takes a more direct route on this idea and is straight up with the fact that it’s their fault. While they can easily blame it on the weather, in the end, we’re responsible for how we react to it.
Standout track, “Ghosts,” toys with this idea of how evolving as a person feels like shedding the old you and becoming something completely new. Smith yearns throughout the track, “I’m not who I used to be before, and I think it shows.” A fucked up idea to cope with– struggling with a world that’s consistently changing, forcing changes onto you, and feeling like no matter what, you’re not adapting to anything. Even as these changes lead to new forms, there’s still a constant struggle to feel comfortable in your new skin.
Blame It On The Weather has no frills and is messy at times, but is cathartic and impossible to forget– just like the summer that sparked its inspiration. A concoction of influences are apparent in Kerosene Heights’ songwriting, particularly bands like You Blew It! and Joyce Manor, but the Asheville punks put their own stamp on this sound, resulting in a distinct style of southeast emo.
There’s a line from the penultimate track, “Love Spelled Backwards Is Love,” that rounds out the album appropriately. In it, Smith sings, “Told myself I would grow up but I didn’t / and I don’t care,” articulating a philosophical stance we could all lean into, especially after the events of last summer. The “I don’t wanna grow up” thematics in emo evoke a tantrum-like quality that is hard to shake without leaving a bad taste in your mouth. That is, until you begin to experience those tribulations of growing up, or growing in general, much like I did last summer. While Kerosene Heights probably want to forget about that summer (I do, too), it’s best not to forget what we learned from it.
Brandon Cortez is a sometimes-writer/musician and a frequent emo-enjoyer nestled in the West Texas city of El Paso with his fiancée and two cats. In a futile effort to escape EP’s blistering heat, you can find him perpetually adjusting his fantasy football lineups and smothering his shortcomings in homemade Americanos. Find him on Twitter @numetalrev.
