“Whiskey and crosswords” are the first three words in “Doing Yourself In”, the ninth track of Braid’s 2014 release, “No Coast”.  A bunch of guys in their late thirties might find some solace, dare I say, even enjoyment in a nice glass of Maker’s and the Chicago Tribune.  It’s fun to think about though, even though the song details a different experience, if the four members of Braid see themselves in that predicament - that is to say, finding a home in the mundane.

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The first twenty seconds of Braid’s “No Coast” is an exercise in counterpoint - two guitar parts weaving sonically in and out of one another, softly, quietly; almost as if to tease that they’re tired.  You could consider it their way of saying hello in a sheepish way, stretching their limbs and yawning as they collect themselves from an almost fifteen year sleep.  Then, in a style fitting of the title of the song, Bob Nanna and the rest of the band blast in with a bang.  It is precisely here that the lifeblood of Braid has been exhumed and splattered across our ears again.  Not dead yet.  Not by a longshot.    

Since Braid’s last true full-length record came out in 1998, Bob Nanna has been a busy man.  He captured our attention again with Hey Mercedes, releasing two records to a tremendous amount of acclaim.  He took to his solo project, The City on Film.  He crooned with The Sky Corvair, and released new material with his newest project, Certain People I Know.  All of these endeavors, from the insignificant to magnanimous, culminated into the melting pot of influences on No Coast, and what a succulent dish it turned out to be.

My perspective is that No Coast is their real body of work, the true first impression of Braid since the final chords of Frame & Canvas.  Not that I intend to diminish their comeback EP (2011’s “Closer to Closed”, sort of forgettable) or their recent split release with PA’s Balance & Composure (one of the tracks, “Lux”, is also on No Coast), but this is the true heart and soul of Braid.  It is a diverse cross-section of what has always made Braid so great: their depth in songwriting, and their uncanny ability to be melodically dynamic.

The songs here are polished, fine-tuned.  Therein lies an interesting tug-of-war between those who loved Braid for the sawed-off, splintery sentimentality they recall on “The Age of Octeen” and those who loved the crisp pallet of a record like Hey Mercedes’ “Everynight Fireworks."  Gone are the struggles to hit the high notes, gone are the raspy and urgent yelps that characterized Braid’s former catalog.  To some, this is heresy, and to others, like me, it is not hard to understand that with age comes a new set of standards.   Braid’s focus on making a cohesive and fresh sounding record was necessary - in doing so, they created an entity that will appease their old cohorts and entice new listeners.

Tracks like "Damages!” and “Put Some Wings On That Kid” are stout examples of the Braid that once was - fast, rhythmically interesting, and vast.  Drummer Damon Atkinson is a master at his craft, providing an unyielding pulse in each of the songs on the record, while Bob Nanna and Chris Broach trade vocals atop of a cascade of intricate guitar work.  The title track of the record, “No Coast” is a great example of how they implement some new tricks in their arsenal of songwriting, and the same can be said for tracks like “Light Crisis” and  “East End Hollows."  

Still, the record is a Braid record, true-to-form.  It’s intelligent, concise, and playful, each element stretched to its’ corners on this record.  The work as a whole, while not a wild departure, does indeed show  their age a bit.  While complex and interesting, a lot of the songs do take on a similar shape, but the melodic ebb-and-flow between Nanna and Broach, both in their voice and guitar work, is engaging.  "Climber New Entry” is a fervent showcase of their playful back-and-forth instrumentally.  

Surely, people looking for “Frame and Canvas, part Deux” are going to be a bit dissatisfied with the product.  As aforementioned, this release is far less rough around the edges, and the production values are leagues above the work on their previous records.  The difference here is in fifteen years of music, and a fifteen-year shift in ideology.  During the run of “Frame”, the focus on being emotive was of far more importance than precision in performance, and that energy was sought after by those listening.  Today’s focus, especially to reach a broader audience, is to make the most listen-able record that you can.  I do not see that Braid’s songwriting suffered in any way, and to bolster it with cleaner production is a step in the right direction, certainly not in the opposite.  

Having always had a home with Polyvinyl Records during their first run as a band, the guys chose to release No Coast with Topshelf Records, a choice met with some consternation from long time fans.  While Polyvinyl afforded Braid with great opportunities during their previous standing as a band, the choice to release the album on a burgeoning label like Topshelf was, in my estimation, an educated one.  It gave the reformed band a channel to bring their music to a new group of younger fans, ones who were already eating up the music from Braid’s new label mates like You Blew It!, Prawn, and A Great Big Pile Of Leaves, artists whose work was undoubtedly influenced by a band like Braid.

“This Is Not A Revolution”, the closing track on the record, is an interesting way to detail the idea of what Braid is here to accomplish.  With the influx of bands reuniting to capitalize on the idea of an emo revival (or so this movement of sorts has been dubbed), Braid has created their monument with spires that overlook the idea that they are one-and-done.  There is a courage in what Braid have done, they’ve held close to their chest what makes their music unique, while striving to be poignant and accessible to a totally different music fan.   The comeback album is a hard line to walk, because to be successful begs that many factors converge appropriately.  When you’re as talented as Braid is, however, and you write the kind of music that Braid does, you can cash your exemption in.  Nothing has to come together but the music, and I promise there’s no room for disappointment, there.

Best Track: No Coast

Rating: 8/5/10

Written by Thomas Vicario