Album: Eleventyseven - And The Land Of Fake Believe
Everybody's seen some form of it in their lives, as art appeals to all of our respected senses. Sights, sounds, taste and various other tangible arts have been offered to us throughout our lives as individuals. Today I decided to find the nearest 'artsy' museum and hopefully find something that might shoot my mind like a rocket through space. Rummaging through cases of a healthy blend of musical genres, I came upon a colorful CD cover and decided to pop it into the CD changer. Unknowingly, something was about to happen as if it were straight out of a sci-fi novel. Music and time were about to blend so intricately, that art would be known to me in such a way that I could have never imagined existed, until the very instant I pressed PLAY.
It started as a dream in Greenville, SC in the high school corridors of three aspiring musicians who in 2002, wanted to bring some light and a positive outlook into a music scene that was usually tainted with subject matter full of darkness and strife. Matt Langston (guitar/vox), Jonathan Stephens (drums/bgv) and Caleb Satterfield (bass/bgv) decided to take a different route and introduce the industry to a new and innovative way of marketing positive music with gripping riffs and fervent vocals. With our entertainment industry living off of the phrase 'sex sells' the trio decided to put their best foot forward and try to produce an original concept that would incorporate a new form of 'sexiness', and found their calling when they decided to use their intellect and wit to pen implausible lyrics. Intellectually was currently the new-fangled form of sexuality.
Their latest release Eleventyseven and the Land of Fake Believe is chock full of pop-punk heart wrenching choruses and mind boggling verses full or honesty and sheer brilliance. A perfect mix of intermingled bass lines, with a hint of roaring guitar riffs and a pinch of vocal fluidity make this trio a definite musical tour de force. With the rising success of their hit single MySpace, an upbeat parody about meeting someone on the popular online site, Eleventyseven have won the hearts of many by simply being themselves. When interviewing Matthew Langston, I asked what the title of this album truly meant and he very nicely stated, "It's sort of a reminder to not take things so seriously. To understand that there are some times in your life (especially as a teen) that you think the whole world is going to end. Then you get through that time and realize how totally lame you were."
My favorite tracks on this CD would have to be MySpace, Teenage Heartbreak and Yesterday's Glues. Each track has its own individual personality that gives each song a genuine piece of character between each individual verse and accompanied chorus. This in turn produces a signature appeal to the listener and harbors a quality that can stand alone in a crowd. Excellent contributions put together by each member of the band, and instrumental versatility allows for the enthusiasm to ride out on the saddle of each notes flexibility. I am excited to see what they have in store for us in the upcoming year, but I think Matt said it best when he said, "I am heading to the studio to start work on a new record. It's going to be a very fun record and very exciting. No one is going to see this coming."
Verdict: After an hour of traveling between horrid traffic, I have reached my destination in one piece. I silently thank my driving instructors for all the cautious tips I ignored years ago in Driver's Ed, open the door, and proceed to the museum that awaits my praise and criticism. All the while I think about the journey that took me to this small antiquity, and ponder listening to the shifting of the indoor cooling system. I glance in my bag and quietly pull out the case to which I owed this privilege of being artistically renewed. Smiling at the sunlight that caught my eyes in its trance, I strolled down the corridor and hummed a tune in synchronization with the atmosphere... Eleventyseven and The Land of Fake Believe had triumphed again.