All Get Out - The Season
Record Label: Favorite Gentlemen Recordings
Release Date: September 20, 2011
With how many social media markets there are today, it’s easy to get overwhelmed with opinions from people who you agree with or disagree with; people who you trust or distrust. For us, that means music recommendations. With so many tastemakers in all different corners of the web, a simple scan of your Twitter timeline on any given weekday will likely result in a hodgepodge of recommendations. Some of these people – whether they are members of the media, friends or family, bands, other industry people or whoever – are trustworthy, while others aren’t. With some people, you are more likely to check out what they recommend.
It’s for this reason that I will probably listen to every single band from which Favorite Gentlemen Recordings ever releases music. It’s virtually guaranteed that a Favorite Gentlemen band will not only have pure raw talent, but a sound that is focused and knows where it is going. Such is the case with Charlestown, S.C.’s All Get Out. Their debut full-length, The Season, is, according to vocalist guitarist Nathan Hussey, “a book on the history of our band.”
That story is a complex one, surely – but it’s one that is efficiently translated to the tune of 10 tracks and almost 40 minutes. All Get Out isn’t a young band, per se. Being on the road since 2007, youth is something this band missed out on. They spent it reading highway signs and playing shows to whoever showed up. The Season is, remarkably, the output of a band that knows exactly what it’s doing, and a band that knows every single release counts. They know this is the next step, and they take that step with resounding force.
Musically, The Season strays to and fro across realms of indie rock and poppier stylings. We witness very Manchester Orchestra-like moments, as in the two closing tracks “Let Me Go” and “Come and Gone,” but there is certainly an arena-rock tint to songs like the standout “Lucky Bastard” and the opening “My Friends.” Hussey channels shades of Andy Hull without the similarities being distracting, but the strength of the group lies in their astounding chemistry and tightness. No seconds are wasted here – every note, every progression is arranged to the point of no return, and The Season proves to be 40 minutes that couldn’t go by any faster.
The tides all collapse on each other on tracks like “Girl, Gun,” where Hussey throws reckless abandon to the winds when he’s yelping in the bridge, only to have the entire soundscape retracted and condensed by strings. It’s hard to say when All Get Out are at their most impressive – whether it’s in the calm before the storm moments of “Let Me Go” or the unabridged rockers like “Subject To Change.” One thing is for sure: for a debut full-length, The Season bleeds with the attitude of a time-proven veteran band. It’s this feel, and it’s where the group’s fresh newness manages to peek out, that makes the album such a special listen.
Comparisons to a younger Manchester Orchestra are inevitable. The Season might be the record that I’m Like A Virgin Losing A Child would have been if Man Orch had a poppier mindset. That can probably be partially credited to producer Matt Malpass (Lydia, Copeland), whose production never seems out of place or dominant – an essential quality of this style. If anything, a single listen to “Let Me Go” will always bring back shades of Man Orch, but All Get Out definitely isn’t the type of band to stay static for very long. Similar to many of their labelmates, All Get Out will surely pave a lengthy, consistent road before them. It’s going to be quite the ride to watch All Get Out grow up even more than they have, and it’s safe to say that on the back of The Season, they’ll have plenty of people with them to count the milemarkers from now on.
They really outdid themselves. This record is incredible. I've had in on repeat since June and it's probably my record of the year. Make sure you pick it up on Tuesday, seriously. I remember the first time I heard "My Friends" back in February - still captures me like it did back then.