Underworld Kingdom

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Author: Sandi Sadar Šoba

Artist: Leaf Fat
Label: CPZ Records
Release: 2005

 Why did emo core as a genre start withering and dying off in installments a few years back, and why are emo-core heroes so rare today, with even those few starting to change their sound (and if they haven’t croaked, they’ve at least gone underground in their own genre, making whatever they make just for themselves because interest is dwindling)? The main gripe with skate punk and skate-flavored hardcore and emo core bands isn’t that the guys (or occasionally a girl) can’t play. Far from it. In fact, in most of the guitar noodling over melodic outbursts, they’ve mastered their instruments all the way. What bugs me more is that all bands of this kind sound alike. Often you get the feeling there’s precious little there beyond the pose. Still, I switched off the reflex that kicks in automatically whenever I size up this kind of music and reached for the record Underworld Kingdom, which came out of the hands of the local outfit Leaf Fat. I let myself be surprised as if I knew nothing about the band, and to some extent I even pulled it off, heading out on an hour-long ride through what these guys really have to say.

The one-minute Intro was a pleasant surprise. Gentle drums and a simple, nice-sounding guitar ease you into the record slowly, melodically and lazily. Tied together with the song ‘Individual Hapiness’, it forms an aesthetic whole where emo core and a pop punk approach shake hands, the kind you could expect to hear on MTV. Besides the influence of a whole army of American bands, what woke me up most in the song was the middle section, where you can hear a pinch of Faith No More vocals flirting with melancholic rasping in the manner of some Chino Moreno. Then comes the sobering-up. Leaf Fat are punk. Emo core, really, and they don’t hide it in a single chord or a single drum hit. The tempo is sharp and precise, surgically measured out. ‘Next Century’ gets rattled off on autopilot, and the melodies are predictable. I’d expect it from bands like Good Riddance or Pennywise. Unlike them, these homegrown English-language rhymesters trot out worn-out phrases that aren’t so much about painting poetic landscapes, images and stringing together stories as about grasping for a rhyme from the first verse on. Layered vocals and screaming cover that up a bit, right? And just like that we’re at the next track, ‘Concealed’. You can listen to it with no baggage and admit in the end that the guys have a thing for layered singing (at Bad Religion’s age they lovingly call it ‘oozing ‘). ‘Sunfall’ is just right for treating the complexes of thirteen- or fifteen-year-old girls who are sick of everything. What draws me in most, more than the wording of what some would call poeticizing the alienation of the times we live in, is the salvo of flawlessly played guitars and the tireless drumming, which is above the Slovenian average. And then I follow the story on. ‘Amnesia’ piles up a small sea of stereotypes and ties them into one compact whole of massive blabbering. ‘Elegy’ puts me, musically speaking, in a slightly better mood, and I could even have a good time at a gig with it, no problem. Totally positive, despite the fact that the guys give off the feeling they’ve been through a ton in life. That’s a mannerism that runs through the next song like a red thread. ‘Deep Inside’ wants to carry on with this worn-out approach for way too long. ‘Untitled’ slaps a band-aid on the wound with racing drums and polished distortion. Up to the first slowdown and the attempt to show they can structure complex musical masterpieces. ‘T.W.T’ pleasantly surprises me with an opening take on reggae reminiscent of Elvis Jackson. Those guys, after all, know how to throw a perfect party. Here, though, we slip at moments into something that recalls a mix with some Incubus thrown in. The crossbreed is rather likable and unobtrusive. Halfway through, the atmosphere opens up into a rush like the unexpected mating of wild rabbits. ‘Winter Song’ is an optimistic little tune suited to spicing up the approaching winter holidays. As for the depth of the lyrics, I decided not to write another word. The music, though, is just right for getting up in the morning and then brushing your teeth more briskly, which you can stretch out over the next track too: ‘Smile’. ‘U:K.’ as the epic finale of the record offers a nice opening riff and a gorgeous melody reminiscent of the atmospheric layering of Deftones. This excursion proves to be the band’s real chemistry, as they breathe for the first time in an hour and fill the emptiness with some essence too, and for the first time they truly win me over. Then silence and a hidden track, with which, after eleven minutes of quiet, they close the album into a full circle. A nice guitar melody and minimal effort make for a melodic ornament that would let me take back many a criticism right away, because Leaf Fat prove they do have feel after all. No words, no needless yammering and threshing of empty straw. Just an instrumental, thanks to which the guys undoubtedly have a future.

Production-wise, the record is a nice textbook example of a good record. Instrumentally, I only miss slightly more drums. And above all, a bit less smoothed-out guitar. When I’m writing about emo-core, hard notes work better for me than weepy undertones, since anger would be more constructive than the polished surrender to fate that they endlessly string into goo through the lyrics and, pardon the expression, crap, of which there’s plenty on the music scene here (and beyond our narrow borders too), actually still way too much. Honesty and rage are missing. Rawness. And Leaf Fat have enough rage only musically. There’s not enough anger in Robert’s vocals. Maybe that’s the trick, though? Maybe they don’t want to convince you by meaning what they sing in any serious way. Maybe it’s all just a pop tune. A radio hit? An attempt they can market at the next EMO pick, since Zablujenci already went off to break the ice this year…

Lineup

Robert Šercer – vocals
Jaka Skočir – drums
Matej Avsenak Ogorevc – guitar
Miha Kraševec – guitar
Miha Medved – bass

Production

Jeti & Leaf Fat

Track List

1. ID- Intro
2. Individual Hapiness
3. Next Century
4. Concealed
5. Sunfall
6. Amnesia
7. Elegy
8. Deep Inside
9. Untitled
10. T.W.T.
11. Winter Song
12. Smile
13. U:K.

ALBUM LENGTH: 62.26

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