Embarrassing story time: when I was in a band way back when with 2 of my best friends, we opened for All Get Out and Dignan. I wasn’t familiar with either band at the time. I think we as a band had some kind of contact with someone or other, and ended up on the bill.
By that point, I hadn’t been in the band but for a few weeks. I was still using cheat sheets for chord progressions. And as I recall it, we made a critical error by writing a song in the hours leading up to the show and then debuting it that night. That’s either total confidence or complete ignorance, but there’s no way it’s both.
I remember the show not going especially well (for me as a new musician to the group, anyway). We played at a YMCA gymnasium in Lakeland, Florida, to probably… 75-100 people. It was our first time playing outside of a church. I think I was terrified for a variety of reasons, the foremost of which was my unfamiliarity with the material, and the fact that we were playing a song we had written that day.
By the time we were done playing, we had been schooled, to speak, by both All Get Out and Dignan. We were a group trying to find our sound. Meanwhile, they were both well-polished bands with creative tunes, albeit in two different genres. And rad dudes to boot, all of them.
In retrospect, it seems insane and ridiculous that for my 3rd-ish show, we were opening for (at the time) two nationally touring bands. While it’s not on the level of “Panic! at the Disco signs to Fueled By Ramen after Pete Wentz hears the band’s demos on LiveJournal”, we still felt good about being on a respectable bill.
What’s funny is that both of those bands became favorites of mine. I ended up buying Dignan’s first EP The Guest, and All Get Out’s The Spitting EP.
The Season is All Get Out’s full-length debut, coming a full three years after an EP and an expanded version of that same EP. It is, in the plainest of terms, an indie rock album, but it’s tenuous and strained. The implication of the title is the changing of a season, which in this case translates to what I read as tremendous break-up music. The band says otherwise, but the beauty of writing is interpretation. Their intention, according to lead singer Nathan Hussey, was to write about being on the road and a history of the group. But I hear a song like “Let Me Go” with strained lyrics about wanting to get out of a romantic relationship, and I think differently from the band’s stated theme.
With this change in the atmospheric version of the word ‘season’ (which, as a lifelong resident of Swamplandia newly transplanted to a place that has regular weather, I am seeing leaves change color for the first time), I also see the extended metaphor version of the word. It’s a chapter in a book, just a fleeting moment in time.
The best song on the album is by far “Subject to Change.” It’s a building, driving tune with one of the best progressions I’ve ever heard in a chorus. It may just be the band’s best overall tune too.
The album closes on a rad orchestral medley – such a stark contrast to some of the abrasion from the previous 37 minutes. So needed, and so welcome.
Also, since this is their only release I’ll be writing about this year, check out an expanded version of their debut EP on the group’s Bandcamp. Interesting to see how far the group has come from their roots.
From The Season, this is All Get Out’s “Subject to Change” –
Standout tracks: “My Friends,” “Subject to Change” and “Me and My Lovers”
Weakest track: Not one in particular here. I usually skip over “Son of Mine,” but that’s just me.
RIYL: Alt. indie rock. Kevin Devine, early Manchester Orchestra, Bad Books, Mel Washington’s solo work, Buried Beds – basically anything from the Favorite Gentlemen family.