The Split Seconds
Counterfeit Reality
** and 1/2 out of *****
The Washington D.C. based The Split Seconds second release is titled after their twist on fake news as Counterfeit Reality takes things even further forward. Despite their hometown the albums title and the cultural climate, this isn't a screed against the establishment, the pop punk outfit are more into describing shitty relationships, distant loves, ladies of the night and punk rock scene squabbles.
The quartet, Drew Champion on vocals/guitar, Sean Peterson on drums, Alex Massi on guitar, and Stephen Parson on bass, slam and pogo their way around teen angst in digestible fashion. A track like "Fortunate One" has pretty crisp breaks, big builds, a soothing bass run and backup vocals shining while "Impulsive Automatic" slams the pedal down and goes the opposite way with more aggression however, the more radio friendly, mainstream tracks is where the band excel.
The light ska reggae groove of "Punk Rock Blacklist" captures the groups style in ethos fairly well when Champion states, "We are the fighting wing/of punk pacifists" while railing against a genre that ostracizes much of their own.
The first single "Where Have All The Good Men Gone" begins with a lullaby guitar riff which rings throughout the track as bass and drums ebb and flow around the tale of a lonely morning post one night stand. Opener "Everybody's Wrong" with it's woah's and rumbling tom drums and "Dear Cynthia" are also both par for the course in this realm via chugging riffs, shining guitar breaks and layered vocals.
One of the standout tracks is "Dirty Shirley" which recalls, well, loving Dirty Shirley, but does so over almost cow-punk groove and flashes crazy guitar picking and solos which soar. The galloping surf rock instrumental "Get The Hell Off The Beach" shows that the band has new genres they can tackle while album closer "Little Lizzie Icepick" amps the hip swinging groove to finish things off.
The Split Seconds are much closer to the So-Cal sunshine friendly pop punk than their past D.C. hardcore brethren but the end result finds Counterfeit Reality a tasty treat, even if present day reality in their hometown is far from it.
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