@dannyduncan doing his thing tonight. #ClassAct
He’s coming…..and has the right tool for any job #DrWho
by Erik van Rheenen
Art doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Art demands context, and oh boy, does Common Courtesy have context in spades. I mean that in its most literal sense: there’s a decent possibility that it would take a wheelbarrow to tote around the backlog of court documents and recording contracts and legal mumbo-jumbo that have surfaced from Victory Records v. A Day to Remember. Context is everything for Common Courtesy — there’s a strong case to be made that the Ocala natives’ newest record already marks their finest hour. They did things their way, shot a middle finger skyward at Victory Records, and released the album they wanted to release on their own terms. I was impressed with ADTR’s ethos without having to plug in my headphones and listen to a single goddamn note. (Though, for the record, the album does open with a resilient “fuck yeah!”)
But, setting the moral victory and court drama aside — I know, bad pun, but my thesaurus is on the far side of my desk and I’d have to move to get it — there’s still the question of whether or not the album is objectively any good. And if I hadn’t followed the court proceedings and listened to Common Courtesy from the comfort of a context-free Hoover, I’d say…kind of.
Opener “City of Ocala” crosses the usual A Day to Remember hallmarks of the checklist — mosh call, chugging riffs counterbalanced by power chords, lyrics about coming from their hometown — and I’m not sure what to tell you if you expected anything different. Six years removed from For Those Who Have Heart, you probably have a grasp on your ADTR fanhood by now: you’re either going to burst out laughing when Jeremy McKinnon yells “brace for impact” on “Right Back at it Again,” or you’re going to jump into the pit and start flailing like a giant squid trying not to get de-limbed. Pick your side accordingly.