There's something phenomenal about this record. I had to open like that because it fucking deserves no less of an opening statement. Such energy, such a brilliant fusion of musical styles really draw me in and Busch Hymns has the passion, balls and don't-care punk charisma that you can't help but feel drawn to. Accidentally stumbling onto this may well be one of the biggest positives thus far in 2014.
Think melodic punk with a screamo edge. That's more or less what the opener "No Brains" signifies. It's brash and recklessly good, like so much of the record. Speedy riffs and minor skramz-tempos here and there build Posture & The Grizzly as loud and angry, and rightfully so. This is further explored on the melodic-hardcore "Because I Got High" which highlights that this is one of those bands with an abrasive edge that works, even in its immaturity and resentment. It feels so natural and unforced and to cultivate such a sound so organically really wins. If Joyce Manor met State Lines and got fucking smashed, you'd get this pissed-off trio.
Even in the catchy stuff, they mark the bubbly aspects of their music with passionate, mosh-worthy material. See "Sister Marie" in its audacity and punk splendor. 'Why the fuck would I wait for you? / If you never waited for me / You said I pulled you down so far underground / That you could barely breathe to cry out / To an ex-best-friend, true friends or lovers / Well maybe it's time to step free / You say you wanted a future but in the end / Where the fuck's my future?' highlights their frankness and a bit of why they're ticked off.
In just under 20 minutes, you're offered a lot. "You Know I Know What You Did Last Summer " shows just how the second half of the record is switched up as it takes on a pop-punk signature that amid hazy, distorted guitars, still finds a way to put forward their mean, mean, mean disposition. Rough, crude and fucking pissed off, I reiterate. The band's adaptability is awesome as they innovate so much on "God's Drugs" with jagged solos and huge, obnoxious choruses but still find a way to float so perfectly into the twinkly, indie-punk finale, "Jordan Michael's Space Jam." Yes, this is a love-song. It's really great and yes, their song-titles are fucked up. There's a lot of humor to kick back to so have a beer or twenty, enjoy the emotion and hateful poetry that jump out in leaps and bounds to pleasantly distract. It'll be worth it.