When a band names themselves after the worldâ€™s only lactating contortionist, you know you are in for something different; and as with the original act, you know that some people are going to be fascinated, some will be in awe, and some will consider the whole lot to be a complete and utter waste of time. This is a band of extremes: screaming and pleading, ugly and beautiful, poetic and obscene, obvious and sublime. You can think of them however you want. That is after all, the point.
Alexisonfire rose up out of the Southern Ontario underground in late 2001 like some monstrous and utterly captivating car-accident-in-progress. Hitting the ground with an immediate full head of steam, Dallas, Wade, George, Jesse and Chris have not only impressed the critics with their sour/sweet approach to performance and writing, but are recognized for their stellar musicianship, and the palpably pent-up tightness of the band live.
This is music for both sides of your brain. In your left ear, the poignant and melodic vocals of Dallas, injected with the devilishly sweet phrasings of the axe-wielding Wade, speak of impulse and introspection. In your right ear, George offers the testimony of the tortured soul, syncopated power-scream vocals that energize and counterpoint -- a couple of cartoon-character angels and devils sitting on your shoulders, offering 2 very different interpretations of the same musical message.