Between band practice and pranks that involved rearranging the letters on church reader boards and hurling turkeys and pumpkins into town pubs on respective holidays, the displaced band of ruffians navigated the rocky, evergreen edged terrain through high school, until parting ways (temporarily): Keenan to Olympia, Cotton to Alaska, Gamble to Ohio, and the classically trained Posrednikov to intensive piano lessons.
It was Cotton who first made the pilgrimage to Seattle, the city that spawned his heroes like 764-HERO’s John Atkins, Murder City Devils and the Fastbacks. He worked various jobs from a baggage handler at SeaTac airport to cleaning fish guts from buckets on a ship. The others followed soon after, and with the addition of drummer Bill Cole, Feral Children were born – a new incarnation cut from the same cloth of their tumultuous, backwoods roots.
The band struggled and sweated to gain a foothold in one of music’s seasoned epicenters, elbowing their way through the teaming masses of those attempting to do the same. But their howls in the dark were not unheeded for long.
Producer heavy Scott Colburn, who’s credits include the likes of Animal Collective and Arcade Fire, signed on to work on their full length, convinced by the “amazing live energy” that came through during a show at Seattle club S.S. Marie Antoinette. It’s clear why: the energy is electric and evokes a visceral response. Dualities in drummers (Cole behind the kit and Keenan, standing and flailing behind his) and vocalists – Cotton and Keenan trade duties, their distinctly versatile, yet different styles bringing a dynamic, ever-shifting element – combine, and the force hits hard, from all sides. A live Feral Children show would be unsettling if it ended without bloodshed, an instrument or three destroyed, or thrown at each other on stage. Yet, there’s a succinct order to the chaos as this group of untamed creatures attempt to communicate with the world through primal percussion, pop melodies and screaming vocals.
It’s this incendiary live show that caught the attention of influential Seattle-based radio station KEXP who has championed the band with major airplay and a high-profile slot on their holiday show alongside Yeasayer and Dead Confederate. There’s been no shortage of local press with the Seattle Weekly heralding the record as a “fascinating, beautifully narrated work” and The Stranger proclaiming the live show to be “burning and manic.”
Translated to tape, Second to the Last Frontier, recorded last spring in six days at Colburn’s Gravel Voice studio, retains the live energy, writhing and glistening with yelps, screams, buzzing guitars, dual drummers, intense keys, resonant melodies and an underlying tone of conflict and frustration. It’s an urgent and angsty effort that combines basement rock with pop and classical elements, stringing them out into complex, often manic song structures.
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