Rapid Cities Machinery Saints

It's understandable that a young band like Rapid Cities would dump as much as they possibly could into their debut record — they're full of piss and vinegar and they're hoping to be heard. That isn't groundbreaking but it's appropriate for a group of basement show dwellers from the Mecca of punk: New Brunswick, NJ. Rapid Cities deconstruct the conventions of arrangements and reassemble them into a clean, angular post-core blueprint. There aren't any typical hooks and the vocals are often monotone, even when intense, but there are ample intricate time changes that are just a small part of the impressive instrumentation. The guitars are front-and-centre but never flashy, and as in "The N.R.A. and the N.W.A.," the drums exhibit not only muscle but an accomplished jazzy flair. It's the band's age-particular counter-cultural idealism and passion that save Machinery Saints from being a mishmash throwaway, and once Rapid Cities figure out how to refine their jarring anger and dissonance their confidence and skill might lead to a more thoughtful, dynamic sound. (Love/Hate)