Senses Fail could emerge from tired punk genre

LOS ANGELES (Hollywood Reporter) - In the '80s, it was hair bands; in the '90s, grunge; and in this decade, punk bands of all kinds seem a dime-a-dozen, making the ambitious Senses Fail one of the standouts, though its current transition from screamo/emo punk style to a wider palette of rock textures is still a work-in-progress.

The New Jersey quintet played the first of three area dates Friday at the House of Blues on the Sunset Strip (also appearing Tuesday night and Wednesday at HOB Anaheim). The set often was forceful and skilled but also fell back on the vocal wails and staccato rhythm cliches that have quickly made the cathartic release formula of screamo a tired genre.

Despite dark themes of emotional claustrophobia and lashing anger against a lack of life control, singer Buddy Nielsen was often giddy, enjoying the band's success.

Drawing from its two Vagrant albums, the new "Still Searching" and 2004 debut "Let It Enfold You," the group found the right combination of fury and hook for the riff slab of "Sick or Sane," with a wry, catchy chorus of "And the white coats just won't get it/I'm a genius with a headache." Often literate and questioning beyond the usual post-teen angst, other key songs included the fatalistic "Bonecrusher" and tuneful alt-rock hit "Calling All Cars."

Nielsen's vocals are still typical of the genre -- a strained and pinched boyish tenor -- but he is beginning to show more range. The twin guitar leads of Garrett Zablocki and Heath Saraceno reached a metal intensity as the pair also chimed in with near-pop harmonies, while the team of bassist Mike Glita -- who delivered some of those cliche guttural screams -- and drummer Dan Trapp often was a freight-train engine.

If Senses Fail can continue to grow, the band might well rise above the pack of sound-alikes. The same can't be said yet of second-billed Saosin, which has a long way to go, though the Newport Beach, Calif., band clearly was a big draw as local heroes, the crowd chanting its name before it took the stage.

With videogenic looks and lots of enthusiasm, the group bounced all over the place, but some synchronized moves got a little silly after a while. Most of the songs lacked real character; the pieces were all there but didn't seem to fall into place, from lumbering beats that staggered rather than rocked to only wisps of melody coming from the aching-boy voice of well-mannered singer Cove Reber.

Like a pocket Warped Tour, the bill also included Bleeding Through, an Orange County, Calif., hardcore outfit full of loutish aggression and little else, and New York's I Am the Avalanche.

Reuters/Hollywood Reporter

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