Grenades

As with all things, every group possesses a life-cycle. Some will fade away from the thoughts of all but a few while others will burn bright in the memories of many; forever enshrined in monuments of the mind. But the fate of becoming a mere memory is not resigned to all who wish to commit themselves to a life of creativity. Every so often, a band acts as a phoenix and rises from the ashes of its predecessor and burns with a brightness in which there is potential to outshine everything that came before. This is a very rare thing to experience: a band so effectively shake the dust of its former life and become a legitimate force in its own right.

Rising up from the remains of such Seattle acts as Kane Hodder and Schoolyard Heroes, it must have been very tempting for the Grenades camp to bleed dry their distinguished past. But temptation is made to be conquered and Aaron Yost, Eric Christianson, Jerome Sauer and Trent McIntyre, the personnel to comprise this Seattle, WA post-hardcore outfit, are dedicated to the present and future to a level at which other groups in their position should aspire to.

Time is never wasted by Grenades; it is to be relished and utilized. Case in point: within 3 months of the death of their previous groups, a demo was recorded and put online to mass consumption. It was a punishing effort for such a fledging group and only hinted at the potential of what was to come.
With the release of their recent split LP with Mercy Ties on Echolalic Records, Grenades have presented the final evidence regarding their ability to stand alone on their own foundation without the need to shoulders to hoist them onto credibility. Heightened to perfection are the that-should-not-work-but-it-does guitar dueling of Christianson and Sauer, whose differing schools of influence construct a formidable cacophony of sounds that weave seamlessly throughout the chaos. The venomous vocals of Sauer and Yost appear as the spastic fits of rival siblings, as if each is trying to outdo the other while Yost simultaneously personifies the monolith as sound with tidal-wave-in-slow-motion bass melodies that rise up as drones of death itself from below. And McIntyre beautifully holds back at all the right times, exploding into intricacy at only the most perfect of moments and delivering an object lesson in feel and groove; things that are most often lacking within the hardcore genre.

But above all else, Grenades is more willing than most to abandon all frills and complexity and just rock. It is a balance that none of their contemporaries can touch and it is the greatest weapon that they have.