cli·ché also cliche n.
1. A trite or overused expression or idea: For a perfect example of this, see the use of screaming in modern music.
OK, ok, so it doesn’t really say that last sentence in the dictionary. But maybe it should. The art of screaming has, in recent years, vacated the armoury of floor punching hardcore bands and found it’s way into softer, poppier realms. If you’re in doubt when it comes to your bands new song, just get one of the members to throw in some blood curdling screams at random opportunities and you’re away. However, as with many clichéd ideas, there are always a small number of fantastically relevant examples that run the risk of being overlooked.
In the case of the sing/scream combination, Vaux are most definitely one of those examples. When I say screaming, I don’t mean that the band have hastily covered their lack of vocal talents by screeching the backing vocals instead of harmonising. In Vaux‘s case, the main vocals and throaty shouts are handled mainly by one man and one man alone. This, instead of highlighting the lack of ideas in the backing vocals department, shows two sides to the band and 99% of the time, the transition from melodic to abrasive is seamless.
However, Vaux must not be simply lumped in with the rest of the crowd. While yes, they have mild Funeral For A Friend-like tendencies, their sound is more like a sludge of Recover, Deftones, Refused and At the Drive-In. With three guitars, two keyboards and the aggressive onslaught of Quentin Smith’s vocal chords, the band have an impressive musical onslaught and while their post-hardcore art rock isn’t as deliciously abstract as the Blood Brothers, it is still seated firmly in the section marked ‘Off-Kilter’.
‘Set It To Blow’, the album’s opening track, is a kick in the balls from the word go. An aggressive, arrogant vocal line, a rumbling bass line, pounding drums and a machine like guitar riff underpinning it all is a very brave way to start an album, but the important thing is that Vaux pull it off with style. ‘Do It For Sixty’ and ‘Ride Out Bitch’ take a similar structure, but it’s not all the same scenery. ‘Four Cornered Lives’ slows things down considerably and sounds like Radiohead covering Killswitch Engage.
Even when the melodies are sparse, such as the verse to ‘Fame’ or the Queens of the Stone Age style sound of ‘Broke the Brakes’, the bands talent for top-notch songwriting clearly shines through. While every song has it’s own identity, the cohesion throughout the record is astounding. One can only imagine the impact these songs would have in the live arena.
‘There Must Be Someway To Stop Them’ is, in a modern musical environment choking on its own unoriginality, a startlingly pleasant kick in the teeth. If you like your music technical, but without it disappearing up it’s own arse, your vocals aggressive without sounding forced and your melodies to have a soaring and soaked in melancholy, then Vaux are for you. In fact, Vaux are for everyone. Catch them now before they become The name to drop for indie scenesters.
Ross