We probably won't be so lucky, but if emo were to finally die this year,
Waking Ashland would be its ideal swan song. The San Diego band's debut full-length,
Composure, is an ironically titled play list of earnest, dramatic cries for help and bleeding-heart Dear Jane letters -- the kind of tightly structured, highly melodic rock that could make any get-up kid swoon. But instead of the usual dual-guitar-and-candy-synthesizer combo, Waking Ashland heightens the stakes by bringing a piano into the spotlight -- and pounding the hell out of it. So even though the music is predictably sweet and the lyrics lame-brained (
Autumn brings a song I sing so desperately/
These shattered dreams from broken wings of love), when Ashland rolls out the Steinway and gives it a terminal dose of Old Billy Joel, the sound is so epic that, were it truly the dirge at emo's deathbed, the tired genre would rise, gasp and -- with impeccable theatricality -- exhale its dying breath, passing on with a rose held limply to its chest.
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