The Loop : The New Frontiers - Mending

The New Frontiers - Mending (2008)

You can read every blog, magazine and hear the ramblings of every hipster in the world, but sometimes, no matter how much music you have, NOTHING sounds good and you want something new.

This happens to me a lot. I find music sometimes here and there, and a lot of times I invest an entire night into digging through iTunes, finding like artists. And sometimes, through the power of social networking, I get REALLY ambitious and survey my friends via Facebook, MySpace or Twitter. One particular time, a friend of mine from California recommended a band called The New Frontiers. Their name had been thrown around here and there but I hadn't followed up much, so I went to iTunes and bought Mending after hearing a few songs I dug.

This was right around the end of my last semester of college, and this album slipped into my consciousness right around the time that I was getting ready to leave Arizona and move to NYC. I had it on pretty heavily that last week before I moved, not only because I had become addicted to the music, but addicted to the lyrics.

This record is the kind of record that exists in your best of times and worst of times. It teeters back and forth on the idea of home, family, coming to the realization of existence, etc. I pulls heavily on emotions, no matter what they are for you at the time, which is something I think a lot of bands lack. I can only listen to ska music when I'm happy. I can only listen to Dashboard when I'm sad. But with this record, I found comfort in the loneliest of times here in NYC, or the best times. With lyrics such as . . .

"How can you live far away? This is my home and it's easier to see from far away."
"Life is what it makes of you, so don't be afraid to walk alone."
"This is the house where you were born, these rooms seem smaller than before"
"When you want to run away form here I know you can't escape from all of your fears. I've made my peace with the world and all that it brings, holding my own."
"In the morning, I'll be gone. . . "

These all made sense no matter what mood I was in, and I think a lot of that had to do with the music itself. It was catchy yet dark toned, but had the optimistic twang of their Texas influence. They existed so much in my transition from AZ to NYC, that I saw them right before I moved at The One Place and then again a few weeks later at Pianos. And, by way of this music, they existed in those capacities on two totally different levels. In AZ, I saw them with a good hundred or so kids. In NYC, I was one of 6 people who stayed til midnight to watch them. It was heartbreaking. You can tell the back and forth of this record's optimism had much to do with the back and forth of their careers.

Ultimately, this band ended up breaking up shortly after, playing their last show in Dallas in January of '09. It's an unfair reality of this business, in watching bands come and go and creatively or personally go elsewhere. It kills me to think of the little pockets of music I may have missed out on because they've fallen off the map or I was too busy to notice. I'm just thankful this record exists in this moment in time, no matter what.

I encourage you to watch this entire thing. Even at the show with a room of only 6 people, I remember this song being unbelievably consuming and powerful. I think that says a lot about them as musicians.