Planes Mistaken For Stars - Up In Them Guts

Near incessant touring coupled with on and offstage antics, have made Planes Mistaken For Stars a household name in the punk rock scene. Recent tours with Cursive, the Ataris, Against Me!, and the Dillinger Escape Plan have only strengthened the band's grip on independent music, and Up In Them Guts takes that grip to a bone-crushing degree. Forever full of gloom and grime, Planes Mistaken For Stars' sound has reached new depths (a fitting term, I think, in their case), allowing themselves to be more musically controlled, belting out nearly discernible vocals, and acquiring an improved sense of songwriting. A musical melting pot, Planes Mistaken For Stars masters heavy rock & roll without a dull moment. The abrasive vocals and violent lyrics, a la Nick Cave, keep the band shrouded in blackness with nary a smile or glint of optimism. And, while not being excessively heavy, yet never soft enough for comfort, Up In Them Guts is a passionate display of harsh outlooks and whiskey-drenched daydreams. The music contains as many layers as a fat man's ideal birthday cake. Loud to faint but constantly powerful and absorbing, filled to the brim with crashing cymbals, power chords, and dirty guitar tones. In one word, I would call Planes Mistaken For Stars "rough" -- nothing about this band is polished; I bet they don't even bathe. They aren't catchy in the slightest. In fact, I doubt the majority of their fans were hooked at first. But this band grows on you, enormously, with each listen. As far as the album's finest moments, I couldn't really say, but for the review's sake, "A Six Inch Valley," "Belly Full of Hell," and "Say Not a Word" are my personal favorites. Up In Them Guts should prove to be the year's most nicotine and alcohol-driven flight to hell and back, and I'm leaving it at that. [www.pmfs.net]