Deadmalls and Nightfalls

I like the sound of Frontier Ruckus a lot. The use of musical saw and melodica give this band a unique sort of mystical folk sound. This sound may not be for everyone, but I for one am a big fan.

A slightly more subdued yet no less involving record than their debut, "The Orion Songbook," Frontier Ruckus' sophomore album (and first to come out on Ramseur Records, affording much more widespread distribution and visibility) continues the poetically-informed lyrical observations of singer/guitarist Matthew Milia, underpinned by a softly baroque bed of banjo, muted trumpet, saw, bass and sparsely swinging drums. This time out there is a thematic arc: the desolation of formerly bustling suburbs and sprawling, overgrown shopping complexes as Michigan's fragile economy fractures and filigrees. This is the simplistic overview of an album that covers a rather wide plane of emotional territory, however, from sexual nostalgia and electric desire to reflective warmth and bittersweet remembrance.Listeners may find that Milia codes his emotional data, littering it with images and smells, so that "Deadmalls and Nightfalls" invites psychological archeology which spools out over repeated listens. Often the lyrics don't seem to have singular meaning; they are soft-focused and glimpse-like. And if the newer melodies don't seem as immediate or rousing as older songs like "Adirondack Amish Holler" off the first album, that too is an illusory and evasive observation, ducking into the corners and shadows of sense-memory. There is quite a bit of contained energy in the brass breakdowns of "Silverfishes," the opening song "Nerves Of The Nightmind," and the album's longest track "Pontiac, the Nightbrink.""Deadmalls" represents tangible growth, outward and inward with a certain degree of offset to it -- an off-register letterpress print over polaroids and yellowed newspaper advertisements saved from the memory of a sunnier time that promised it would be eternal. It wasn't eternal, but it fuels and warms the proceedings in a way that's anything but flatly nostalgic. The album bristles with quiet vitality, a forward glance through the past littered with numerous lost dreams and disposable cups, the crumbling Helvetica signage of the 1980s now sun-faded and redolent with pathos.

Decidedly shinier, often times more upbeat, but also occasionally darker and more intense, "Deadmalls and Nightfalls" (the second from Frontier Ruckus)returns to the astonishingly poetic lyrics and complex descriptions of "The Orion Songbook" yet adds a strong penchant for story-telling (nay, story-weaving). There is enough similar to their previous records to keep the Frontierheads (I just made that up) happy and enough new to illustrate their versatility and transformations. Etzcorn's drums are on point, Davey Jones' picking impresses me with ever passing moment, Milia's lyrics and voice are as enchanting as ever and Nichols proves once again to be a walking musical chameleon. But would you expect anything less from this fantastic band?Folk for cool people? Blueindiegrass? Nah, its just music for people who love life.IN SHORT, CHECK THEM OUT. ITS WORTH EVERY PENNY YOU COULD SPEND.

This is the first Frontier Ruckus album I've purchased, and I absolutely love it. Matthew Milia's rich, meandering lyrical style and his reedy plaintive croon, combined with the superb musicality of the band make for a tremendous album. Wonderfully recorded and produced, lovingly performed with a sincerity and passion that's not only thoroughly entertaining, but refreshing in it's uniqueness and originality. I would highly recommend this album.

I have been listening to this album since the fall of 2010 and I never tire of it. Musical perfection, easily in my top three favorite albums of all time.

Do you ever have that feeling that a band have an absolute killer of an album in them , because you like their sound sop much, their instrumentation is just to your liking, in short they really 'click' with you? But somehow,ever so frustratingly somehow, they don't quite get to the point you feel they could. Well wlecome to Frontier Ruckus's second album, which, whilst I really enjoy and admire frustrates me a little.There does seem to be a theme of reflecting on the more despondent facets of life and this Michigan based band are no different in this respect to other alt- country outfits, but there is a hint of lyrical melancholoy rather than abject despair. But given what has happened to the automotive industry in Michigan and the consequent poverty around them, one can hardly crticize musicians for writing about what surrounds them. There are more upbeat songs and at times quite frantic jangly music pours out of your speakers, the first track being a prime example of frantic banjo and percussive accompaniment, lots of horns and piano. There is also plenty of americana stock in trade pedal steel guitar and this bands speciality 'singing saw' (is that its name?)producing whispy ethereal sounds aplenty. So musically its everything you would expect and more; Mathew Milias voicve wavers from time to time, but I guess thats part of the appeal, he has a sincerity and uniqueness vocally that matches the mood of this band perfectly.But....something has happened to the production, which I accept is inevitable when a band has acheieved a degree of success. They are now on the same label as the Avett Brothers(clearly very suitable stable mates), I just hope they dont go quite as slick as that band,this album has a cleaner but fatter sound than the previous album.This is a very very good album, standing above a lot of similar bands, blending folk and americana brilliantly. But, I just feel they have more, maybe I'm being a tad greedy and rushing them, in the meantime this slice of americana will do very nicely indeed thankyou.S.R.J