Whether they've embraced it or simply been unable to escape it, there's something uniquely Canadian about Counterparts' sound. Sure, the Hamilton hardcore outfit could be compared to American contemporaries, but it feels like something would be left out if Counterparts were just lumped in a category with, say, Knocked Loose. For Canadian fans, their music conjures memories of mundane, suburban teenage life in the semi-rural cities of Canada; there's just something Counterparts capture that only Canadian kids will truly feel hits home.
If it isn't clear by now, this particular brand of caustic Canadiana is as present as ever on album number seven, A Eulogy for Those Still Here. The record feels like the work of kids, angsty and bored, taking up music and starting a band simply because they have nothing better to do. If that sounds like a dig, it's not; Counterparts have managed to grow musically while staying true to their roots — the result carries on the winning streak set by their previous two records.
While the album has an overall melancholy feel, the songs are still energetic, blending heaviness and refinement rather than jumping between the two poles. This swirl of punishing, weighted melody gives the songs a more dynamic and distinctive feel, with beatdown mosh-makers seamlessly paired with melodic guitar work and sing-along passages.
Only one song on A Eulogy for Those Still Here — catchy closer "A Mass Grave of Saints" — clocks in at over four minutes, which would be a problem were the album not worth several, addictive re-listens. It's easy to get lost in the band's fury and lose oneself in the swirl, which can also make it hard to pick out highlights. That being said, singles "Whispers of Your Death," "Bound to the Burn," and "Unwavering Vow" — which kick off the album following opener "07/26/2020" — do as good a job preparing the listener for what the album will contain as any could. Towards the back half, the melodic elements of the album take more of a front seat on tracks like "Skin Beneath a Scar" and "Soil II," but there are still mosh-worthy beats aplenty in others, like "Sworn to Silence" and "Flesh to Fill Your Wounds."
What really draws the listener in to A Eulogy for Those Still Here is the rawness and conviction of the performances. It's impossible not to feel something when listening to these songs, and whether that's energized, saddened or even overwhelmed, one thing is clear — this is not background music. Nobody will be putting on this album to serve as white noise while cleaning the house. It's too adept at pulling you into its immense maze, the kind of album you'll be thankful to get lost in.
(New Damage)If it isn't clear by now, this particular brand of caustic Canadiana is as present as ever on album number seven, A Eulogy for Those Still Here. The record feels like the work of kids, angsty and bored, taking up music and starting a band simply because they have nothing better to do. If that sounds like a dig, it's not; Counterparts have managed to grow musically while staying true to their roots — the result carries on the winning streak set by their previous two records.
While the album has an overall melancholy feel, the songs are still energetic, blending heaviness and refinement rather than jumping between the two poles. This swirl of punishing, weighted melody gives the songs a more dynamic and distinctive feel, with beatdown mosh-makers seamlessly paired with melodic guitar work and sing-along passages.
Only one song on A Eulogy for Those Still Here — catchy closer "A Mass Grave of Saints" — clocks in at over four minutes, which would be a problem were the album not worth several, addictive re-listens. It's easy to get lost in the band's fury and lose oneself in the swirl, which can also make it hard to pick out highlights. That being said, singles "Whispers of Your Death," "Bound to the Burn," and "Unwavering Vow" — which kick off the album following opener "07/26/2020" — do as good a job preparing the listener for what the album will contain as any could. Towards the back half, the melodic elements of the album take more of a front seat on tracks like "Skin Beneath a Scar" and "Soil II," but there are still mosh-worthy beats aplenty in others, like "Sworn to Silence" and "Flesh to Fill Your Wounds."
What really draws the listener in to A Eulogy for Those Still Here is the rawness and conviction of the performances. It's impossible not to feel something when listening to these songs, and whether that's energized, saddened or even overwhelmed, one thing is clear — this is not background music. Nobody will be putting on this album to serve as white noise while cleaning the house. It's too adept at pulling you into its immense maze, the kind of album you'll be thankful to get lost in.