The world is in the midst of an electronic music renaissance, and you find most of this boon of producers laying claim to the club-friendly, bass-dropping variety, holing up in the the free-flowing world of hip-hop beatmaking or pitching their tent on the out-there, boundary-pushing EDM camp.
Broncho has never been hurting in the hook department. The success of the trio’s 2011 debut, Can’t Get Past the Lips, was predicated mostly on its ability to marry melodies with kinetic guitar riffs and anarchic energy. Yet we’ve heard nothing to the degree of pure pop catchiness on display in “Class Historian,” the new single from Broncho’s upcoming sophomore album, Just Enough Hip to Be Woman.
No one wants to be forgotten; everyone wants some sort of legacy, a mark they leave behind as they exit this life for whatever lies beyond.
And for as long as there has been death, there have been monuments — whether austere or understated, abstract or concrete, prominent or tucked away in private — erected by the ones they loved to assure that remembrance, at least for a time.
Some of the best albums and artists were born out of happy accidents owed to varying degrees of early suckage — the perfect note or chord for a song found by missing the one you are aiming for, failed mimicry of an idol bearing something entirely new and great instead.
Blue October with Girl in a Coma 7 p.m. Tuesday Diamond Ballroom 8001 S. Eastern diamondballroom.net 677-9169 $24-$29
Justin Furstenfeld is keenly aware that not all people are huge fans of his band, but he’s OK with that.
“There’s a broad hatred for our band,” said the leader of Texas-born Blue October. “I think the reason people like us is because we aren’t singing about glamorous things ... depression and things like that, divorce and custody battles. We pride ourselves on being honest with everything we do.”
The group broke through with its fourth studio album, 2006’s Foiled, but struck a weird ground, lyrically similar to angsty metal acts like Puddle of Mudd and Creed, while stylistically closer to Dashboard Confessional or the poppier side of The Flaming Lips.
Still, fueled by the breakout hit, “Hate Me,” Blue October assembled a fan base that embraces Furstenfeld’s powerful, personal messages.
That message grew darker, messier and all the more intimate with its latest disc, 2011’s Any Man in America, written over the course of an ugly separation between Furstenfeld and his now ex-wife that lasted nearly three years.
“It became a drain on my money and on the little time I
got to spend with my daughter. Still, to this day, it’s hell just trying
to create a relationship with my little girl,” he said.
so many guys that are going through that same thing. It’s a bonding
experience being able to share in that circumstance. It’s like you are
walking on eggshells all the time.”
battle brought a new focus to his professional self, and the album
benefited from Furstenfeld’s burst of creative energy and concentration.
contemplated each song as a producer and songwriter,” he said. “Each
song had its own storyboard, its own reason. The entire effort was
really thought out.”
all of heartache and introspection, Furstenfeld and company finally may
have emerged with a more steady identity. Hopefully, that hate will
start to wane, too.
“It really touched the
critics’ hearts, and it wasn’t so all over the place,” Furstenfeld said.
“They used to call our records ‘bipolar.’ This one, we found our