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A Dream Too Late
Intermission to the Moon
Rating: 3.2/10
Tooth & Nail Records, 2007

Tooth & Nail’s latest attempt to “take the world by storm” is an ill-advised mission.

By David Sessions

Apparently Tooth & Nail Records doesn’t believe it has yet found the very most perfect punkish alternative rock band to dispatch on a mission to conquer the “world,” as the press materials for each successive attempt bugle. Or perhaps they think they have achieved the precise formula, and undetectable variations thereupon are the most lucrative means of bringing home the bacon. Whichever it is, Oregon four-piece A Dream Too Late joins us as variation number everybody’s-lost-count on the now officially tiresome “Tooth & Nail sound.” Why their label has advertised them as the next world-storming rock band is unclear as, pretentious galactic band name and album title aside, their debut reveals nothing of the sort.

A Dream Too Late
Intermission to the Moon
Rating: 3.2/10
Tooth & Nail Records, 2007
A Dream Too Late hails itself as an “experimental” rock band, which presumably refers to the (very) intermittent synthesizers and negligible smattering of electronic beats. Which brings us to another off-putting trait of the sort-of-Christian alternative rock band: expecting the skin-deep embellishment of bland guitar rock sound to count as any sort of stylistic divergence. From the ethereal, synthy A Dream Too Late to the hard-edged, screamy Emery, these outfits are essentially the same band, and even fans of the stuff have to be groaning about now (“Another one?”) I would observe that I’m digressing, but maybe I’m not. Intermission could easily be a Mae record, an Anberlin record, a Falling Up record—take your pick, and you won’t be far off the mark. Which might be just fine if it were any good, but all of those bands have huge-voice front men who are also good lyricists, as well as some impressively talented guitarists. A Dream Too Late has none of the above.

The first minute of “14th & Knott” suggests what this band could have done (or could do in the future) to distance itself from the threadbare blandness that characterizes its chosen genre. A celestial synth riff and layered, upper-register harmonies are instantly reminiscent of Mew, not a bad band to be ripping off. But it’s not to last; like just about every song on Falling Up’s last record, an almost-unique intro slides into formulaic song structure and a monotonous, entirely forgettable radio-rock chorus.

The success of this type of band often hinges upon its ability to create memorable structural riffs. The awkwardly titled “Do You Believe (In Ghosts?)” does better in this department than most of what follows, but still pales in comparison to various labelmates who have truly mastered the form. Intertwining guitar lines and a good mix of distortions introduce some complexity in “Trendsetter,” which features the best guitar riff on the record and marks one of the only departures from the pervasive mid-tempo rhythm. Elsewhere, the band is unsure exactly what it wants to sound like…after opening with a simulacrum of dreamy-eyed prog, meandering through dull radio rock, “City Park” opens with blunt distortion and heavy drumming, much more grunge than galactic. But it doesn’t really matter that the sound doesn’t work, because after twenty seconds of intro, we’re back to verse-chorus-build-bridge Falling Up imitation.

“Be Honest” is a musical rehash of every other song on the record, escalated from boring to hateable by its puh-leeze lyrics (“Don’t tell me I’m not for real! You stabbed me in the back!”) It’s what the petulant guys in AFI must have sounded like when they were in junior high. Some actual AFI imitation comes on “Airsick,” which features, seriously, the most ploddingly dull chorus a supposed-to-be-catchy rock song has ever suffered. And on and on it’s the same story, except for “Daylight,” a swelling, layered piece of work that’s undoubtedly the best four minutes on the record.

So there you have it. Sure, this a warm-up debut, but this band is resting on the precarious edge of lacking anything to develop into relevance. Fumbling to explain A Dream Too Late’s name, guitarist Chris Eddie said, “Grace means you can still follow your dream. Put your faith and heart into it, work hard, and your dream can happen. My dream is not too late, I’m living it now.” I hate to be the one to shoot down the shuttle, but it takes a lot bigger ideas than that to inspire music that’s worth anyone’s time.


David Sessions is the editor of Patrol.

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Christopher Cocca is a graduate of Yale Divinity School and is currently working toward an MFA in fiction at The New School in New York City.



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