Fuck "emo," fuck "screamo." Let's talk about music with intensity and passion. Pyramids' second full-length release, Through the Hourglass, features eight equally brutal and beautiful songs. I was fortunate enough to recently see the band perform at the Lo-Fi Social Club in Baltimore; after their set (prolonged one song by a unanimous call for an "encore"), I couldn't help but immediately head to the merch table and pick up this album. During the set, bassist and vocalist Benn Roe mentioned that the songs on Through the Hourglass talk about time travel (cool as hell, right?). Voilà, another concept album à la Pyramids.
The first song, "Eyelids of Time," contains one of the most mesmerizing build-ups I've heard in a very long time; Pyramids uses repetition to perfection in several cases throughout the record. As a three-piece, Pyramids can create extremely full songs that enrapture ultimately dumbfounded audiences. Each musician exerts tremendous musical strength over the course of Through the Hourglass.
In "Clockwork," the build-up abounds; this song is a crash course in catharsis. At only six minutes in length, "Clockwork" feels like an eternity. Pyramids make listeners feel like they're falling through time as the song continuously reaches a summit and repeats. The lyrics fit incredibly well with the nature of the song's music:
Death, prolonged by a return to infancy, has more patience than I. Reborn into a caustic world with a name that inspires nothing, pulling meaning from pieces, consumed by repetition and outmaneuvered by my consciousness, my life isn't a trial; it's an eternity.
References to a "machine" are found in Through the Hourglass' lyrics as Pyramids have crafted a concept album about experiencing time without boundaries. This time machine drives Pyramids to obsession, takes them back to childhood, gets them lost in the labyrinth of time and hurls them into forgotten memories.
Melodious and malicious, "Two Eternities" soothes the listener for four minutes then switches from ethereal to exclamatory. "Entropic" exhibits Pyramids' inherent punk side while the following track, "The Phoenix," presents a meandering, melancholy piano with vocals that sound shouted from afar.
I've been listening to Through the Hourglass for a week straight and I'm still not sick of it, and I doubt I ever will be. If you want truly emotional music with an enjoyable harshness, get your ears fixed on Pyramids.
See also
In First Person, Pg. 99, City Of Caterpillar, Back To The Future
