Where did Ottawa’s Pine come from? It’s a question worth asking after listening to their painfully gorgeous self-titled debut album. Pine use the phrase “doom and gloom never sounded so sweet” to describe their sound, and true to that, this 11-track outing is filled with the kind of hypnotic melancholia that became the playbook for a great many Midwestern emo bands that emerged in the late 90s/early 2000s. The biggest difference here is that while Pine have the heartbreak down pat, their musical sense of loss is lifted slightly by the airy, more wistful sounds of their guitar-strewn songs. Sure, there’s a lot that sounds like a great Mineral record or a Gloria Record album, but there’s also traces of Florida indie/emo band The Rocking Horse Winner and at times, bands like Rainer Maria.

Pine are buoyed by the great vocal work of Darlene Deschamps. Her voice soars through tracks like “Memento” and the terrific “Lusk”. The latter in particular is a great example of how Pine lull you into a sense of calm before it explodes in a collage of symphonic distortion and post-rock twinkling. In “Sunder” they ascend to louder, more expansive sounds. The song is a great combination of thick, fuzzy guitars, mid-tempo percussion work, and that pained vocal delivery that gives the song an extra punch in the guts.

The album took an impressive 2 years to finish, and you can hear the trials and tribulations of that gestation period through the songs. There’s pain, sadness, anger and frustration in songs like the intro “Within You” and the more new emo-esque “Swollen”, but also beauty, and as the album concludes, a sense of incredible catharsis. The record SOUNDS great too, with production values (by a production team that includes Will Yip, who has helmed records by Circa Survive, Braid, Saosin, and the Bouncing Souls to name a few) adding to the grand cinematic finish of the record.

For those who love what emo was in the mid to late 90s will find much to like about Pine just as much as those who like Explosions in the Sky and their post-rock brethren. Pine have been crafting their sound over the last few years and while their previous EP Pillow Talk showed a solid foundation, this new self-titled record is the work of a band close to the height of their abilities. Moving, beautiful, and littered with life’s roller coaster of emotions as songs, Pine is definitely recommended listening.

(No Sleep Records)

In a music landscape where sustained quality and longevity are becoming ever rarer, it is remarkable to think that Goleta, CA’s Lagwagon have now been around for nearly 30 years. More impressive perhaps, is that with their longevity, they’ve maintained their resolute quality over the course of some nine albums. Railer, their ninth, is the work of a band comfortable in their own skin, unflinching, and untroubled by the short attention spans of both the industry and the listener. For those like myself who have been listening to Lagwagon for some 25 years or so, it’s been a comfort knowing that no matter how far away we waver from them as a listener, returning to Lagwagon music is like coming home to warm apple pie and a nice bed.

Railer takes cues from the more serious musical tones the band have exhibited since 2005’s Resolve. While much of Railer is still up-tempo, guitar-fueled melodicore, it’s got traces of the heavier that shows Lagwagon haven’t forgone any of the urgency despite their “age”. From the opening “Stealing Light” and the blazing cut “Surviving California”, Joey Cape and company show that there’s still a lot of passion and fire in their songwriting. Cape’s voice is as distinct as it was on Duh as it is today; giving their music another unwavering constant. There is very little letting up through the album’s 12 tracks, save the occasional deviation like the melodicore-turn-new wave outing “Jini” (evoking Let’s Talk About Feelings and tracks like “Leave the Light On”). In the terrific “Parable”, Lagwagon paints a biblical song of introspection, despair, and hope, wrapped in Cape’s clever lyrical wordplay (“Where do we begin / Wonder is a sin / A dog that we name dogma / The cat we won’t forgive / We’d go outside to play / But it’s not safe today“), while the bouncy “Bubble” is a fun, wistful outing of old memories and a longing for yesterdays long gone (“Throwback in the van / Cranking the oldies like Samiam / Jawbreaker, Mr. T Experience / Never rock anything new“).

A cover of Journey’s “Faithfully” is a great closing, and like the many covers Lagwagon have done before (their cover of “Brown Eyed Girl” is still the best), show their willingness to underline the more serious nature of some of their songs with lightheartedness. It is a small but important part of Lagwagon’s long appeal. They have always had the ability to write great songs, but have never once forgotten who they are. Railer is proof that a Lagwagon record will probably always sound like a Lagwagon record, and while that may feel like a detriment to some, it is, in reality, one of their great strengths. Cape has been involved with many different music projects over the years. He’s experimented with different sounds with Bad Astronaut, written solo material under his own name, and of course, been part of Me First and the Gimme Gimmes. But for all the different music he’s created, Lagwagon has always been Lagwagon.

Railer is remarkable because songs like “The Suffering” (complete with philosopher Bertrand Russell quote and all) and “Pray For Them”, sound like the work of angry and frustrated young twentysomethings making sense of the world we live, except with the poise and reflection of a band who have been doing this for 30 years.

Consistency is often overlooked as a creative trait, but Railer is proof that it is a timeless quality, especially when it is this good. You can hear and feel the evolutionary changes in the record, but the core and the heart of it are still very much intact. There’s a wonder in finding new musical ground, but if you are like me and first listened to Lagwagon with 1995’s Trashed, Railer is very much like apple pie and very much proof that sometimes (a lot of the time), there’s nothing better than coming home.

(Fat Wreck Chords)