Seattle by way of South Carolina's Emery are an unknown face on the emocore map, a situation they are looking to remedy with their Tooth & Nail Records debut, the caustically melodic "The Weaks End". Drenched in wispy harmonies and powered by a three-pronged vocal front-line, this sextet offers a delicate emo styling with a serrated edge.
Musically subtle, Emery create a soft blanket of touchy-feely instrumentation to serve as a backdrop to their faith-inspired love movement, and this provides a soothing atmosphere that is both relaxing and suitable for the style. In this sense, Emery are effective in nurturing that tender side of one's emotions, and the inclusion of keys accentuates the heartfelt embrace the group wish to offer listeners. The core which drives the band is based solely around the fact that love is stronger than all, and though this is touching in its innocence, it makes for an album that leaves a lot to be desired lyrically. On top of that, the abrasive vocals stitched into the emo fabric found here falter at conveying the emotional sensitivity that the group so desperately wish to focus upon, ushering in a cutting, angry tone that lacerates the album's otherwise breezy demeanor.
For all their strengths though, the musical similarities present here prevent Emery from ever finding firm ground to stand upon. Whether the similarities are of an A.F.I. variety, Third Eye Blind style pop, or more in tune with Armor For Sleep, these men are severely lacking in originality; not too mention their sermon of love is naively one-dimensional. The overlapping vocalization does hold one's attention and strengthens the melodic hooks present, yet after listening for a good ten minutes it becomes clear that Emery have exhausted themselves of musical concepts. As such, this is a sensitive screamo album that hints at true innovation yet opts for conventional formulas instead, and the repetitive nature will likely leave you questioning whether your stereo is stuck on repeat. At a time when emo albums are a dime a dozen, "A Weaks End" lacks the definition needed to stand out, making this debut a truly weak effort indeed.
(2.5 / 5)
Jason Doe