On December 11th, Dead Ending will release its second EP, the aptly titled DE II. It was recorded at Million Yen Studios in Chicago, contains a total of five songs and will be available through Alternative Tentacles. The band’s lineup of course consists of singer Vic Bondi, (Articles of Faith) guitarist Jeff Dean, (The Bomb, Noise By Numbers, All Eyes West) bassist Joe Principe, (Rise Against) and drummer Derek Grant, (Alkaline Trio). We’re excited to present an exclusive stream of one of the EP’s songs, called “Ayn Rand Chicken Sandwich.” When asked about the song’s meaning, Bondi said “I was beside myself at the stupidity of the Chick-fil-A nonsense. As though the highest expression of your ‘moral values’ was to buy a chicken sandwich. But it’s always like that with that crowd, dumb on dumb, undergirded by crazed homophobic panic. So the song kind of wrote itself, in about five minutes.” Check out the song below and be sure to catch Dead Ending on the road in 2013.
[audio:http://www.jadedinchicago.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/4-Ayn-Rand-Chicken-Sandwich.mp3|titles=Ayn Rand Chicken Sandwich]Asian Man Records – Release Date: 9/25/12
Sundials cranks the gain and treads more emotional terrain on its latest album, When I Couldn’t Breathe. Sundials is heavier, more introspective and frankly, a bit sadder this time around. If this album were among the Billboard-ranking, “Completely Broken” would be its single. Singer/guitarist Harris Mendell sings seemingly bittersweet about a breakup, summing up the details in just over two minutes. He doesn’t get too personal but repeats, “I don’t mind, cause I know I’ve gotta be completely broken” for most of the song. It’s as if he’s trying to convince himself of something rather than tell it. “Untitled” is unique for its progression, and for being one of the shortest songs on the album, at 1:31. Musically, it walks a fine line between slight sonic dissonance and melody. An earnest acoustic love song, “Strange,” closes the album. Mendell appeals to a woman despite obstacles within and without. His romantically ideal vision about the two of them falling in love is endearing and willful. “We can fall in love, wouldn’t that be strange?/Let’s talk about the things we’d never change,” Mendell sings. He sings as if he’s talking to her half serious, half speculative. Take ‘90s college rock bands like Chisel, Braid and Harvey Danger, and inject more lovesick, unsettled pop punk angst into them. When I Couldn’t Breathe carries the torch of its genre’s predecessors, is laced with emotion and riddled with introspection, with happiness and contentment just out of reach.
– Jason Duarte