Bring Me The Horizon

There was a time in the not-so-recent past that I had quite a few very critical comments about this band. Whether my arguments were valid and justified or I was being a “hater,” as the kids like to say these days, is probably irrelevant at this point. The people who like this kind of music love this band with a fiery, ’til death passion, and the people that don’t have moved on to other, more terrible bands in this scene to criticize. Me, I’m torn between both worlds, a state I’ve been in since the band toured with Every Time I Die. On the one hand, if it’s good enough to share a stage with Keith Buckley, it’s good enough for me. On the other, a very large portion of the band’s demographic is comprised of underage girls who want inside lead singer Oli Sykes pants and the remainder are the douchiest underage tattooed frat boys of tomorrow with “issues” they need to work out in the pit or whatever. News flash to the former: Look at his pants he can barely fit himself in them, let alone you. And to the latter: You all live in the suburbs and have first-world problems, get over it. That said, these dudes put on one hell of a live show. To the point I almost feel guilty for judging them largely because of their fandom. Almost. Point is, the British-bred metalcore act is nothing if not unhinged intensity when they take stage. It’s not always comprehensible, but the fivesome are a sonic freight train on the verge of derailment from the second their set starts. Perhaps that unpredictability can work in their favor when their fan base reaches inevitable legality. - Brien Overly