SLOW MOTION CRASH

If bands like Interpol and the Killers have proved anything, it's that there's alternative-rock gold to be mined in the caverns of classic post-punk and new wave. In an era when punk rock has been co-opted and diluted into unrecognizable espresso shots of snotty pop-rock, where else is a teen outcast supposed to turn for an authentic soundtrack to his alienation? Appropriating the taut bass lines, somber vocals and subtly gloomy synthesizer fills of the early '80s is the new black.

To its credit, Atlanta's Slow Motion Crash isn't merely playing dress-up in the dark T-shirts of seminal acts like Joy Division or Mission of Burma. Its members have logged some serious time in the shadowy corners of this music, incorporating the anxious atmospherics into a sound that invites comparisons to other bands without slavishly imitating any of them. The spiky keyboard riff that laces through "5th and Incident," the insistent drums and dissonant guitar clash of "Trail of Tears," the quirky push and pull of "Mirrors & Conflict"—these moments nod to the joys of your older brother's crates of old Love and Rockets and Fugazi records while creating a melancholic tension that rings just as true in the here and now.

A few more injections of pop immediacy, like the Killers-style singalong that closes "Culprit Eyes" or the soaring instrumentation of "The Last Mistake," could mean the difference between college-radio attention and a shot at commercial airplay. But that's a minor quibble with an impressive debut from a band that does its forebears proud.
Kevin Forest Moreau -Sunday Paper (Atlanta) - Sunday Paper

The debut from Slow Motion Crash is a grainy snapshot of a band in a bilious transition between the Athens and Atlanta underground rock scenes of 20 years ago. Behind the cover is a rumbling noir-wave notebook of dark mysteries. Guitar and keyboard-addled riddles, echoing the quirky clang of Wall Of Voodoo, crash head-on into the cavernous abyss of " This Corrosion" -era Sisters Of Mercy. SMC emerged with a beguiling flourish from the scattered wreckage of the band Creve Coeur, with dual input from singer/songwriter and guitarists Brian Fisher and Ryan Holmes. Aided by Melissa Giorgio (bass), Emily Beard (keyboards) and Alec Irvin (drums), the outfit careens through nine scratchy, ominous visions. Their spiky guitars and throbbing basslines portend an irresistibly dour joy deficit that steers clear of goth posturing and heads straight to the hallowed stage of Atlanta's long-defunct 688 Club. Don't remember those days? Listen to this and you'll be transported there immediately.
-LEE VALENTINE SMITH - Georgia Music Magazine

“Slow Motion Crash, have channeled their love for ‘80s new wave/goth into a new hybrid that sounds totally relevant in 2007. These songs have catchy, sing-along choruses, and the band members are not afraid to whip out a synthesizer to get their point across, and good for them. Sounds that were at one time considered passe are now new again — and actually refreshing...tracks that make up this release are grandiose, proud songs that are performed with conviction and no sense of self-importance.”
-Jon Dawson, Performer Magazine - Performer Magazine

“These local boys and girls sure do play some gothically ethereal (or ethereally gothic?) shit. Joy Division and Interpol comparisons are inevitable. Thankfully, they do put their heart into it, resulting in some ass-shaking jams and dark lyrics that actually sound convincing.”
- Mark Sanders, Creative Loafing (Atlanta) - Creative Loafing

“Back to the shade again, just in time to catch Slow Motion Crash…no album, but my, oh my could they play...Another jaw dropping moment. Come north young lads, come north; I have just the venue in mind.”
-David Anjo (VoodooFest Reviewer), The 50th Year Project - The 50th Year Project