"You should check out Thrice", my brother encouraged me. "I think you'd like them".

Yeah, right, I thought. This is the same guy who told me I'd like Nickelback and Stroke 9. Not to completely disrespect my brother's tastes in music - he and I have some stuff in common such as Evanescence and The Killers - but he tends to lean toward the sometimes whiny and sometimes more obnoxious end of modern rock culture in his CD buying habits - if it's p!ssed off at the establishment, or rife with raunchy humor, and if he hears it on KROQ, then chances are he'll buy it. I had picked up an older Thrice album, The Artist in the Ambulance, as a Christmas gift for him simply because it was on his list and it was a name I remembered hearing from a few friends who were punk/hardcore fans. But I didn't think that their music would really be my thing. Nevertheless, he dropped his copy of Vheissu into my hands that night, and I figured it'd be worth a listen. I like some crazier, scream-prone bands such as He Is Legend and sometimes P.O.D., so there was an outside chance that I'd like a few songs.

That was Christmas 2005. By New Year's 2006, Vheissu had snagged a solid spot in my Top 20 for the year. It was positively addictive, artistically viable, and I just plain couldn't stop spinning it. Giving it back to my brother was a bit difficult, I must admit.

So what's the deal with Thrice? Apparently they're a post-hardcore band from Irvine, California - or "The O.C.", as some would call that area. Reading descriptions of their older material, I'm tempted to think that a lot of their fans must be crying "sellout", as their apparently frenetic mixture of punkish screamo and heavy metal-inspired guitar playing has given way to a still energetic, but much more melodic blend of styles. Personally, I'm always up for a musical adventure, so when I hear quiet, fluid piano solos or tricky math rock-inspired time signatures in the same song as formidable, anguished screaming and bone-crushing guitar riffs, I'm impressed - so long as the song has a hook. Yeah, I'm a pop/rock guy at heart. And to see those sensibilities merging so effectively with more complex and underground genres of rock brings a smile to my critical side. So on that level, Vheissu is mostly a success. They remind me of a harder-edged Sleeping at Last due to the bells and keyboards and stuff, but they can also mount a musical assault with fierce screams that rival Tool or Chevelle. It's an eclectic, but cohesive approach, and maybe there are one or two tracks that drag, but there's still a ton of hook value coming through in unexpected ways.

But that's not all. What I really never expected from my brother, who is non-religious as far as I can tell, was to be loaned an album so rife with Christian imagery, most of which is articulated in a literate way. Thrice doesn't consider themselves to be a "Christian band"; nevertheless, lead singer Dustin Kensrue is a Christian, and he seems to have caught the same songwriting bug as Bono - his faith can't help but come through in the poetry that he writes. Honestly, the synthesis of powerful lyrics and powerful music on Vheissu puts a lot of the self-proclaimed "Christian" rock bands out there to shame. (Not that those guys aren't forthcoming about their faith in their songs... a lot of 'em just aren't very good on an artistic level because they see no need to make it priority.) These guys do a lot of reading, so it's no surprise to see an unmistakable reference to the writings of C. S. Lewis, or even the Bible itself, come through in a song that can still be listened to and enjoyed simply as an enigmatic story or word picture if the listener doesn't happen to know or care as much about Christian beliefs and the various literal sources.

Now, if I actually took the time to read all of Vheissu's extensive liner notes and dig into the references and meanings of all the songs, I'd have a review twice as long as my normal ones. I'll resist the temptation to unearth all of the back story, and just go with what I'm hearing on a more basic level. Suffice to say, I could get lost in this album for months, and probably still find new thoughts, sounds, and inspiration - for that, it's becoming a better "devotional" disc than a lot of the "worship albums" and whatnot that I listen to when I'm in a more prayerful mood. It's not a perfect album, but it accomplishes what it intends to accomplish quite well, without leaving behind the listener who comes simply to hear good art or a flat out solid musical performance.

Image of the Invisible
We're more than carbon and chemicals
Free will is ours, and we can't let go...
The way that this album starts off is pure genius - a telegraph can be heard beeping in Morse code, which actually translates to the album's title. That becomes the basis for a very catchy drum beat that drives one of the catchiest rock singles I've heard in a while. Dustin and his band take a call-and-response approach here, with the rest of the guys screaming back, "We are the image of the invisible!" as he spouts of his creed about humans being worth far more than just the sum of their biological parts. Riley Breckenridge is relentless on the drums here, while Teppei Teranishi stands out with a jittery but compelling lead guitar. The song just exudes confidence, stepping forward and saying, "This is who we are, and we're proud of it", and creating a rally anthem of sorts for those who find their worth in a higher power. It's my favorite song on the album, and by far their most obvious shot at radio success, but that doesn't mean there isn't some equally rewarding stuff elsewhere on this album.

Between the End and Where We Lie
See the pit boss steal each tick tock
Time, it seems, will suffer at our hands
I look for exits in the haze, the dense electric twilight maze
I've heard that there is one that leads to sunlit lands...
While still upbeat, the second track starts to reveal a less in-your-face, with its gentler drum tapping and warm electric piano tones adorning the verses, only to break into an unorthodox chorus played in 7/8 time, with Riley's "rat-tat-tat" on the drums keeping the rhythm moving forward and helping to make it much hookier than you'd expect a song in such an odd time signature to be. The song conveys a longing to break through the haze of the physical world and latch onto a belief in something beyond that. There's a sense of trying to escape from a dull, gray existence, and even references to it being like a prison or a cruel undergound maze. The spiritual metaphors come fast and plentiful, but lines like "they try to betray me with a kiss" and "the grey that suffocates your soul" come across much less heavy-handed than they would in, say, a Creed song, because Dustin knows how to save up the tortured vocals for when they're really needed (he keeps his tone mostly smooth here, adding a little more power as he sings the chorus). The more obvious religious allusions also crop up in the midst of several other lines of more descriptive lyricism, painting an excellent word picture for the viewer so that the song's story can be enjoyed regardless of the listener's beliefs.

The Earth Will Shake
We dream of jailers throwing down their arms
We dream of open gates and no alarms...
Hey, what the hell? Who replaced my mp3 of this song with a crappy unplugged version from Internet radio that was recorded at 16 kbps? Oh wait, that's how it's supposed to sound at the beginning. My bad. It isn't far into Dustin's lonesome acoustic treatise on captivity when the rest of the band comes smashing through the prison walls, pummeling the eardrums with their down-tunes guitars and thick bass and percussion, all of which conspire with Dustin's low, guttural lament to ensure slow-mo head banging on the part of the crowd. This is the sound of a prison riot set to music, and you can just see the black ground splitting and fire shooting up from the depths of the Earth as the time signature changes from 4/4 to 3/4, and Dustin's tortured screams (this is where he starts channeling Maynard James Keenan a bit) are met once again by the response of his bandmates (which is admittedly confusing because it makes the flow of lyrics difficult to understand, but it sounds friggin' awesome!) Midway through the song, everything drops out and we're back to the lo-fi intro part, this time joined by foot stomps and a choir of inmates sloppily singing their hearts out. It's weird, and creepy, but it fit's the lyrics perfectly, which speak of a dream of "black nights without moon or stars" - presumably to make the escape easier. I'd almost assume that this was inspired by a movie like The Green Mile or The Shawshank Redemption - as it turns out, they're paraphrasing C. S. Lewis here. That ain't bad company to keep!

Atlantic
My eyes are open, and everything still moves in slow motion
Breathless and blue, and behind your eyes the sea
Oceans of light envelop me...
Ready for a love song? No, I'm serious. This is the moment where the sensitive guys come out to play, with their precise drum programming and their gentle keyboards and bells, and their washes of background synths. It's totally not what existing Thrice fans probably expected, but hey, they wrote a beautiful melody and couldn't stand to let it be wasted on anything other than a love song. As love songs go, I'm often going to get attached to the ones about long-distance communication, that exude an insatiable desire to get away from wherever here is, and in its oblique way, this song becomes a great soundtrack for traveling, particularly of the out-of-body variety. This is the point where I'm really thinking Sleeping at Last could've come up with something like this, with its delicate but powerful 6/8 rhythm and its depiction of a lover as an ocean of light. It's a thing of simple beauty, with the complexity lying more in the subtle layers underneath the ocean's surface than the composition of the melody and lyrics, which are basic but very satisfying. This one screams "crossover single", but not in a "we sold out and just wrote a normal radio song" sort of way.

For Miles
We must see that every scar is a bridge, and as long as we live
We must open up these wounds...
What's this, another ballad in 6/8 time? More gentle piano? Don't be fooled. While this song's open is every bit as delicate as "Atlantic" (making for a nice segue, actually), this is probably the song that changes most radically from beginning to end. Most religiously inclined bands would fall flat on their faces when attempting to write a song about bridging broken hearts, shedding blood for friends, and basically standing up and fighting the evil powers that be. I can't really explain how Thrice pulls this off - quoting the song runs the risk of not conveying the full power of it. I think it has to do with the way the guitars and drums slowly build in momentum over the course of the song, starting out as a faint glimmer, and exploding into a supernova for the out-of-this-world ending, where Dustin's remarkably powerful screaming urges us to "open up our wounds" right before Teppei's deliciously loud melody and the drums and bass suddenly begin to sound more and more warped until they fade out. The band mentioned in the liner notes that this ending reminded them of the soundtrack to E.T., so I always have visions of outer space in my head when I hear this one. It's a stellar piece of work, no pun intended. (Side note - Dustin's vocals are really starting to remind me of Del Currie from the British Christian rock band Fono. There's a blast from the past.)

Hold Fast Hope
White death wakes in black skies, mark your maker's wrath
Fear and flames of azure climb the crooked mast...
Hold on to your hats, folks! This one starts off screaming, with the band locking into a vicious and deliriously mad groove in 5/4 time, and it refuses to let up until your heart is pounding in your chest and you're begging for mercy. Yeah, you'll be doing some ridiculous headbanging to those crazy drum rolls and pummeling guitar chords if you're anything like me. There's some singing here, too, sometimes even overlapping the screaming, just to create more mayhem. And yet they're using all of this to convey a sense of victory and hope. I've gotten on the cases of bands like Kutless for screaming fiercely in songs that are supposed to be about a sense of spiritual joy, but all I can say about that is that some bands have the chops for this sound, making the screaming sound less like an attempt to be trendy and more like something they just had to let out of their system. There's a quiet, distant bridge to offer a brief chance to catch one's breath, before the band rips back into it with a clever bridge, which is played just like the throat-shredding verses, but with all melody stripped out - it's just vocals and drums. The only thing I don't like here is how the band ends the song by slowing it down until they come grinding to a halt - it's just awkward no matter how many times I listen to it, and I can't help but think they could have built up to a really intense and sudden finale instead, and that would have just made it an all-around ingenious song. Still pretty close to that, though.

Music Box
Hemmed in by emptiness, a million ways that everything could be undone
This hollow in my chest is filled with reasons not to sing, but I found one...
OK, so maybe I need to get out more , but I think the last time I heard a music box on a rock album was in the closing trilogy on Extreme's III Sides to Every Story. (Fun album, by the way. Hey, stop looking at me like I'm from Neptune.) That one was specially designed for the band; this one that Thrice uses for the intro and outro of an aptly named song plays an old Japanese folk tune. Apparently it was a pain in the butt to get it to play in time with the music, since you have to wind the suckers, but that might explain why it isn't heard in tandem with the rest of the band, for the most part - once the guys get going, a keyboard part seems to replace it. Seven songs in, and this might actually be the most "normal" sounding rock song in the disc so far - plenty of heavy chords, and another good opportunity for mid-tempo moshing, but not as engaging as the tunes that came before it. Encouragement is once again the tone, describing humanity as being a bunch of lost souls far from home, but promising us that "we are sons and heirs of grace" and exhorting us to "stand ready and tall, reflect the light". Maybe the concept that links the lyrics to the music is that a person is, in essence, a "music box"? Since God is invisible (see track one), we're put here to reflect the concept of grace to the world? Just a stab in the dark.

Like Moths to Flame
Once again the bread and wine
But it seems the meanings may be deeper still this time
And you surprised me when you said I'd fall away
Don't you know me, I could never be ashamed of you...
You know, with the contemplative, distant-sounding piano intro leading into straight-ahead, heavy guitar riffing, I'm reminded a bit of the Christian band Cool Hand Luke, an apparent critical favorite that I've always been frustrated with for never quite "getting going". I guess Thrice is my answer to Cool Hand Luke, then, but the subject matter here reminds me very much of something they'd do. This is a song where you really have to listen (and admittedly it's a little harder, since this song tends to blend into the previous one in my mind due to the music being similar), because it's easy to just hear the simple chorus of "I, I will follow you, and lay down my life, I would die for you this very night", and write the song off as disappointingly cliché. If you're careful, you'll realize that the song's protagonist is being faced with familiar imagery, and the foreshadowing of a betrayal in which he breaks these very promises. As the subtle presence of acoustic guitar and rolling drums ratchet up the tension during the verses, it becomes clear that the person speaking is the Apostle Peter, who famously promised Jesus he'd never betray Him, but then claimed to not know Him when under pressure from the authorities. As the song breaks into another intense screaming fit (in 3/4 time, mirroring the end of "For Miles" in some ways), while it may render the words somewhat difficult for the listener to make out, the anguish is well placed, because Peter realizes his broken promise after the fact, crying out in panic over what he has done and leaving us with the unsettling words, "And something in me died, the night that I betrayed my King".

Of Dust and Nations
Saturn will not sleep, until the sand has made us clean
Still we stack our stones, and bury what we can
But it all will be undone, and nothing built under the sun
Will ever stand before the endless march of sand...
What seems like a mournful coda for the previous track is actually a contemplative intro to this one, with its solemn guitar noodling becoming the main riff of the song once the band kicks into high gear. This was the perfect moment to up the tempo, or else the back half of the album might have become a blur of medium-paced angst. Here, against the backdrop of more "spacey" guitar playing (that's the best way I can think to describe it, since Teppei's guitar has more of a bright, glistening quality to it instead of a heavy one), Dustin describes a victory of sorts, though it sounds like a frightening apocalypse at first, with the monuments erected to human pride crumbling to dust and nations falling apart. The Biblical reference is quite clear here, as we're exhorted to "Put your faith in more than steel, don't store your treasures up with moth and rust, where thieves break in and steal." It's like the words of the betrayed Jesus are still ringing in Peter's ears, and with them, a hope for something beyond a mortal life that has been squandered. The song ends in an unexpected way, with a glorious guitar melody that appears to be the song's bridge actually turning out to be its conclusion.

Stand and Feel Your Worth
We are fuel and fire both
We are water, wed with wine and ghost...
Dark programming and lonely bass notes make up the beginning of this song, a meandering behemoth of a number that, at nearly six minutes, is probably the weak point of the album. Thrice doesn't have a bad song on their hands here, as this one has its musically delicious moments. It's just that other parts of it drag, and almost seem to collapse under their own weight. I think it's the time signature change from 6/8 into 4/4 for the verses - they just seem to clunk along and never really go anywhere. The phrasing here is very poetic, almost medieval in its choice of words as it exhorts us to "wrap our knees in earth, wrap ourselves in light". It's just that the metaphors left hanging (earth, light, and space being common themes throughout the album), and especially the screaming (which rises to monumental proportions in the last few minutes of the song) are starting to overstay their welcome. I suppose the screaming would be enough to wake dead souls, which is almost certainly the type of rebirth being referred to here, and it's fitting that he shrieks, "Scream the word that can save us all" as the song draws to an epic close, but... it's starting to make my head hurt at this point.

Red Sky
I know what lies beneath, I've seen the flash of teeth
Conspiring with the reef to sink our ship
The wind's a cheating wife, her tongue a thirsty knife
And she could take your life with one good kiss...
A more peaceful tune is chosen to depict the final movement of the apocalypse as the album winds down - the sky turning red and a new army (probably comprised of the awakened souls just mentioned) rising from the sea. Lovers of gothic fantasy stories are probably repainting classic works of art in their mind's eyes from all of the imagery presented on this album! It's kind of weird for Thrice to close the album on such a "normal" sounding song, but listen to the current of soft drum thumping, semi-tangible whispers, and general ambience beneath the verses, as well as the victorious melody of the chorus, and this one starts to sound a lot better as a "sum up the album" piece. Apparently they're going for this one as a second single - not my favorite choice, but definitely a gutsy move. Can't wait to see what they come up with for the video!

What can I say? I'm mesmerized. I can't help but want to go back again, replay that battle cry in morse code and rock out to "Image of the Invisible" one more time, and then stick around for the whole album, just because. You might say I'm just a religious boy being dazzled by more religious imagery, but I hear truckloads of this stuff on a daily basis, so it takes some compelling phrasing and musicianship for me to care one way or the other about that stuff (most Christian bands who write on betrayal, good vs. evil, apocalyptic, things, the whole nine yards, tend to emphasize war over the mystery of grace and miss the whole point, so clearly there's more to Thrice that keeps me enraptured). I can't really say how anyone other than me will respond to this disc, but for me, it's an adventure, and I hope I've left you intrigued enough to give it a shot.

ALBUM WORTH:
Image of the Invisible $2
Between the End and Where We Lie $1.50
The Earth Will Shake $2
Atlantic $2
For Miles $2
Hold Fast Hope $1.50
Music Box $1
Like Moths to Flame $1
Of Dust and Nations $1.50
Stand and Feel Your Worth $.50
Red Sky $1
TOTAL: $16

Band Members:
Dustin Kensrue: Lead vocals, guitars
Teppei Teranishi: Lead guitar, keyboards, backing vocals
Eddie Breckenridge: Bass, backup vocals
Riley Breckenridge: Drums

Website: http://www.thrice.net

(Oh, and for the record, Vheissu is the name of a place in a novel called V. Far as I can tell, it's not a reference to anything real, in religious writings or otherwise. Sounds like something I'd have stumbled across in an Eastern thought class in college, though, doesn't it?)

Recommended: Yes

Great Music to Play While: Listening