Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Mike Gentry
Everything's aflutter in the songs of Scars On 45. Folks are upping and leaving, just ready to be done with it. Folks are reconsidering their passions. There's pleading and there are hot rooms, full of worked up people. It's all come to this, to this boil and the waters are spitting over the edge of the pot, sizzling up when they hit the floor, when they strike hands or cheeks, arms or necks. People are on their hands and their knees and there's a breathless feeling of not knowing what the next move is or who's necessarily going to make it. This could go either way and it's the way that these songs - typically happening between only two people - all balance. These are private affairs about private feelings that have exploded into colors.
Lead singer Danny Bemrose often sounds to be up to his ears in exasperation when he's telling these tales. He leans into them. They sound as if they've taken him over and possessed him in a way that he's not going to get away from - ever. Even if they're works of the imagination and they are feelings just felt, not experienced first-hand, he's committed to making sure that they feel as if they are burning and alive, as if they're coming for him and they're nothing but inevitable conclusions to whatever is happening within his own life at the current time.
The band from Bradford, United Kingdom, makes a chest feel as if it's full of a world's worth of bees and hornets, all set on buzzing and threatening, but not stinging just yet. They're just there. It's that threat that's the scariest thing. It's the threat of that true love deciding that there's someone else out there for her, someone other than you that informs so much of Bemrose's lyrics. He makes it all feel as if nothing can be done, that these are all just natural occurrences and these things were set in motion thousands of years earlier. It's just now that the scene is playing out and we are to resort to being spectators, only he refuses to believe that. He's kicking and he's throwing a fit - though his fits and tantrums come off sounding like pretty ballads that peak in spots. It's all about holding on to what once was good, even when it's understood that what once was good has started to go bad.