A Call To Arms
Sitting uncomfortably somewhere amongst the states of Maryland and Virginia are the four members of Perfect Future - a band who peddle a brand of emotional hardcore reminiscent of the good ol' days, but with enough of a modern edge to avoid sounding obsolete. The rationale behind the disagreeable posture can be found in the lyrics, and it's immediately clear that Perfect Future aren't a 'traditional' emo band; chief vocalist Brendan is certainly not wailing about heartbreaks and feelings. Their sound embraces the golden era of 90s emo music, although anyone familiar with the band will be fully aware of what to expect lyrically by now - their passionate socio-political escapism shining through brighter than ever in 2014. Their third full length since the awkward beginnings of 2009's Perfect Future and 2012's excellently delivered concept piece Old Wounds: Warmth in the Winter of 1914-1915, the aptly-named Manifesto is a conduit for Perfect Future's message as much as it is their art.
Numerous cultural and political topics are covered; the principal constant being the persistent references to an entity known only as Moloch - an assumed reference to Allan Ginsberg's metaphorical monster of capitalism and American industrial civilization - something that Perfect Future clearly feel intensely passionate about. That passion comes through in different forms, from the wonderfully wistful melodies that close Whole World Wasteland to the refractory hardcore ramble of Unexamined Lives, but it's when they step up the raucous energy that their thirst for what they do really begins to shine through. The over-driven bass adds some hefty bite and the guitar riffs further accentuate the sense of restlessness, with both becoming the driving force behind the music. Brandon's voice has a distinct fragility to it that works well when the band are holding back, whilst his defiant hollering becomes the perfect channel for the more belligerent moments.
The song-writing is clearly a lot more focussed here than on previous releases. Lyrically, the songs concern themselves with issues that range from those that most will identify with ("I'm ashamed that somehow people still claim they have the ability to establish a hierarchy of the value of life simply based on sexuality, nationality, disability, ownership of property, beliefs, past deeds... practically anything." - Only Life is Holy Part I) to those a tad more niche (the pro-vegan rant of Only Life is Holy Part II). Wherever opinions lie on such things, it does not detract from what is far and above Perfect Future's finest hour. The production adds further bells and whistles and the band continue to hone their sound to a point where Manifesto feels like a true beginning, and without discounting their strong back catalogue, this is a real step up.
Perfect Future embroil themselves in bitter-sweet contemplation and shouty East Coast hardcore, generously painted with a politically-tinged cacophony and old school emo melody. Some listening experiences come to life when walking amongst the urban sprawl at dawn and, whether Perfect Future are influenced positively or negatively by the world that surrounds them, Manifesto is one of them. It serves as a wake-up call for those who care to listen, and a solid piece of music for those who don't. This is their manifesto.