There’s a good band somewhere in The Eye the Ear and the
Arm. Their debut album, Paths, has a certain raw, biting ferocity of idealistic
musicians not yet jaded by the industry leeches, the manic fans and the endless
rotation of tour bus tires. And yet, there’s just an ounce of something
missing. This unknown something — that oomph in layman’s terms — serves as a
barrier to the aural landscapes of vocalist/bassist Derek Coburn, guitarist
Darin Green and drummer J.D. Knotts, keeping the act from truly penetrating the
mind’s eye.
Paths opener “All Claws and Teeth” launches with a rush,
albeit a slightly schizophrenic one. You can almost see Green’s fingers run
laps on his ax’s neck before settling on a steady rhythm for Coburn to swoop in
with melancholic lyrics, almost reminiscent of (but not quite imitating) David
Bowie. It’s transformative rock as a theater of the mind, the kind of 70’s
style that discusses little green men building pyramids alongside the
complexity of modern souls. Each song leads directly into the next, giving
Paths the feel of an epic prog-rock recording — a concept album divided into
various movements. The problem is, half the movements can’t be distinguished
from those that precede it, making the machine-gun drums and plucky, cerebral
guitar repetitive. Those that do (“King of Thieves,” “I Give Praise”) hint at
melodies that, if varied and tinkered with volume-wise, could warrant some real
head-tripping music.
And that’s what it looks like the band’s trying to strike at
— the endless desire for music to explore and expose ourselves psychologically.
The lyrics have it, the skill is there, there’s just something in the structure
and execution preventing the tunes from becoming a full-body experience. But
grand dreams and audio brilliance don’t occur overnight, and The Eye the Ear
and the Arm have embarked on their own path of experimentation that, after
taken off the burner and given a few taste tests, may prove breathtaking.