Regardless of how you feel about Emery, it’s undeniable that they’re one of the few post-hardcore mainstays that has managed to evolve in an organic way. Every album feels distinct, yet they continue to deliver plenty of the sound that first put them on the radar as well. Outside of music, they’ve had a notable impact with their Bad Christian imprint. And even then members have rotated in and out over the years, they’ve kept moving forward. That’s impressive.
Rub Some Dirt On It is not necessarily a new album – it has existed in some shape or manner for a bit now, but it’s finally with the band deciding to finally go with a proper label that the album sees wide release. It’s an interesting choice for a band that has built their identity around being DIY, certainly, but it’s clear why this was the album to break tradition.
White Line Fever was one of the softest Emery albums to date. Piano was used liberally and there weren’t many heavy moments. It was perhaps the closest the band could come to adult contemporary, even though there was still plenty of the Emery identity at play.
So, you’d be remiss if you didn’t expect the follow-up to be a fiercely-chaotic rager that seems to channel big Josh Scogin energy. Even on the first track, “You Stole God from Me”, the band cycles between frenetic hardcore, blues, folk-punk, and spoken word. This isn’t the Emery you grew up with. It’s darker and crazier, more intense. And while the sound is familiar, it’s niche enough that it doesn’t feel dated.
Of course, not everything is quite so intense. “Said Enough” is a White Line Fever-type track, somewhere between a ballad and an easy core anthem. The trade-off vocals and harmonies are excellent, and there’s even a lyrical nod to Taking Back Sunday which seals the deal.
“I Don’t Know You At All” is yet another sort of beast, feeling like one of Devin Shelton’s solo songs. There are plenty of beautiful production nuances at play, and the rhythm section manages to deliver complex grooves without ever feeling overbearing. There’s still a degree of intensity as well (it ends with a bit of screaming), but it’s definitely on the more accessible extreme.
That’s the duality of Emery and most surely the duality of this album – the marriage of beauty and the beast. Even in their craziest moments, they still never feel too obtuse for the typical fan of more mainstream post-hardcore even pop punk. There’s a cinematic sort of feels at time, and the band has had years of fine-tuning their production to the point that you can expect a crisp set of tracks with plenty of layers and nuance.
Even so, as an album, it’s a puzzler. It doesn’t feel as conceptual or cohesive as some earlier works. Most of the songs are definitely hits (save for the stripped-back “Wizard” or the catchy-but-odd “Lovely Lady”), and that does diminish some of the power of the story at play. There are moments of heartbreak followed by humor. There’s spiritual frustration followed by romance. It’s evident all the members of the band are incredibly talented – but it feels like in some ways they all contributed a few tracks each.
Either way, most of these tracks hold their own even without a uniting thread. Just because the album doesn’t make sense doesn’t mean that Emery don’t know what they’re doing here. This album is proof they’re not slowing down any time soon.
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