bluemillionmiles

Scenesters regularly debate whether or not this fair city has ever produced a signature musical approach, as opposed to the kind associated with borrower bands that just happen to be based here (read: the Fray). In fact, there have been a number of Mile High styles over the years, including the atmospheric, post-rootsy mid-'90s form recalled by Blue Million Miles. Tracks such as "God Is Dead" feature plenty of elements that fit the mold: spectral guitars, simple/brutal rhythms, and doomy lyrics ("Inside the heart of this tired nation!") delivered by Sam McNutt, who clearly has a thing for echo effects. Sure, it's a throwback, but a confident, persuasive one filled with fine songs like "Through the Branches" and "Trees." Listen closely: It sounds like...Denver.

- Westword

The songs on this debut full-length from Denver’s Blue Million Miles share a sense of urgency. Whether that is the heady swell of emotion of tense interpersonal situations, the uncontrollable current of feeling inside one’s own head upon sudden realizations or the headlong joy of being alive, the band is clearly not taking things at a snail’s pace. The languid opening of “Strangled by Time” is quickly shattered with a menacing echo of distorted guitar that suggests the electrified fire of feeling held back by forces beyond one’s control. “Explosions” has one of the great pop guitar hooks of our time and the music throughout seems happy. The lyrics, however, give the impression of someone who thought he was on solid ground in life only to have the rug pulled out from under him.

The theme of forced growth through misfortune—self-created or otherwise—or through natural personal development runs through and the title provides the perfect metaphor for what Blue Million Miles have to say on this record.

As humans, we build structures, actual and otherwise, to give ourselves comfort in a dynamic universe built on cycles of growth and decay interlocking and repeating ad infinitum.

Perhaps these guys point out the folly of our inborn desire for stability in their songs but they do so with a certain empathy and compassion for needing stability at least once in a while to render life meaningful.

The brash and whirling “Through the Branches” and Sam McNitt’s desperate vocals gives way to the introspective and folky “Over the Fall” and its upsweeping dynamics. It could have been a mistake of sequencing but this is one album where it seems as though the band sagely figured out how the songs best fit together.

“God is Dead” sounds like these guys listened to a good deal of Neil Young but without ripping him off. The song includes McNitt’s most ragged and unvarnished vocals of the album and some of its most forceful guitar work.

“Sunday Eyes” eases the pace, at least initially, but sounds like the band is playing on a fog-shrouded stage, visible in bursts of light when Jeff Shapiro’s guitar shifts from hanging chords to desperate, nearly hysterical riffing. Before the band erupts into a whirlwind of guitar and rhythm winding each other up to fever pitch, McNitt screams “Everything will be alright!” as though to not only reassure himself but to insist that it must or all bets are off.

“Pendulum” is a straight out rock and roll song in the classic vein like something the Rolling Stones might have written had they emerged after the first wave of post-punk. Many bands attempt to pull off this sort of song with its irresistible forcefulness and emotional power but fail. Blue Million Miles don’t make it look easy, because it’s not, but they prove themselves more than capable of delivering the goods.

The whole affair ends with two of the band’s greatest songs. “Follow You Down” reminds me of a long lost Ghost in the Machine-era Police song except that the guitar never wanders into reggae territory. Instead, the guitars feed off each other propelled by gently driving rhythms that kick up the pace when what is otherwise an introspective, moody song escalates into expansive, fiery dynamics. “Trees” is a majestic exercise in what sounds like a continuous upward stream of emotions and song in defiance of the degradations suffered by our environment, like the voice of Mother Earth warning of dire consequences ahead for those who prey egregiously upon her eldest children.

It is tempting to call Blue Million Miles a neo-shoegaze band or post-punk, but that’s not what they are. All the songs here are grounded firmly in the folk tradition but utilizing a string of effects to create dreamy sounds. This music is also very rooted in the bluesy classic rock of the 1960s and 1970s but shorn of all that disgusting fetishization of that sound made popular by so many bands today unwilling to take the music to places it hasn’t quite been before.

And that is ultimately what Blue Million Miles has done with Of Building Walls. This band has not forgotten that what makes for great rock music is channeled raw emotions. But they have also not lost sight of the fact that the best rock music also has nuance, imagination and it doesn’t try to be anything but true to its maker’s vision.

Of Building Walls succeeds on these merits alone but it is an album that also gives us food for thought and reflection—something most latter day rockers are lacking. - Cairn Magazine

blue million miles emerged after the split of small objects in the fall of 2006. it was the classic case of a promising young band breaking up and a much stronger, more focused entity coming together. weaving together strands of gritty space rock with insistent, jittery post-punk rhythms, blue million miles exudes a hushed grandeur best displayed on songs such as "sunday eyes," which nods to mission of burma, or "follow you down," a track laced with traces of pre- and post-genesis-era peter gabriel. difficult to nail down beyond the ubiquitous but never entirely satisfying "indie rock," blue million miles' dreamy edginess is a welcome respite from the otherwise trendy sounds of today - WESTWORD

"crisp, loping beats and thickly braided guitars lead this act down a path of uniquely western, windblown indie rock."-denver post - DENVER POST