Album Review: “Cold Bones” hammers home


By Sam Votaw


For some, music is nothing more than background noise that simply fills the void of silence every day with no true attention brought to the craft of the musicians making it.

However, for many others, music isn’t just a rudimentary art form but a complete and passionate affair that takes form in two to six minute intervals. Sometimes even more or less.

For local rock band Bad Luck, their debut EP “Cold Bones” aims to familiarize rough emotions and experiences in a positive outlook.

Nothing exemplifies this notion than the opening lines of first track “Willoughby.”

Punctuated by a slow, fuzzy guitar line, the words “Nobody wants me back home. Nobody loves me at all. I will be dying alone!” float through the air.

Cold Bones

Cold Bones

The initial tone may be off-putting, but the double bass and flashy guitars that explode into the first verse reflect nothing but positive energy, a stark contrast to the morose personal imagery invoked. Even the outro that summons imagery of slit throats and feeble mental health feels like a welcoming shoulder to cry on than a declaration of distance.

All throughout the eight-song EP, the band bobs and weaves through melodic introspection to straight up head-banging jams. One of the best examples of this formula is the song “Wooden Townhouse,” which in no less than 30 seconds sees a harmonious crowd chant a long slide into the shrill scream of lead singer Dom Fox.

Things slow down halfway through the CD, where nothing but guitar and voice leads the listener into one of the most heartbreaking post-breakup style songs ever written.

The minimalistic effort is a nice break from the explosive onslaught of grunge tinged pop punk, and the exploratory lyrics of “Lantern Park” will relate the most to students that have seen their fair share of lost loves and feelings of longing.

If there is one song to perfectly sum up Bad Luck as a band and the feelings they can instill, look no further than the closing title track. Detailing the desire to leave the state of Florida for something grittier and perhaps more promising, the slow-burning ballad with checklist style lyrics induce images of the Northern U.S. that some members originally called home.

No matter where one is in life or where they came from, they can take solace in knowing their not alone with the closing lines “I’m not naive to the fact that the choice is my own. Just right now I found something to grow. But this place isn’t home,” ringing off into the distance with a plethora of voices chanting the title guiding it.