Splitsville’s debut EP ‘Blackouts’ is a tortured piece of choppy emo punk that, quite literally, screams “misery”. It’s a curious blend of echoey, mid-tempo guitars and desperate shouts that mirrors the current crop of UK emo but doesn’t add much to the genre.
The title song opens proceedings and is out of step with the rest of the record. It begins with a tight rhythm section pounding a proper punk bass line. A wave of guitar breaks over it and so begins the live-or-die moment: the vocals.
Pure despair emanates from the speakers, in a way that is rarely conveyed through beautifully sung notes. It’s the sound of someone being consumed by emotion to the point that it bursts out from their throat. “I’m like a child with a deadly disease, I don’t plan on growing old,” he howls.
Splitville’s success is likely to depend on how people respond to this contrast of well-produced riffs against cutting, broken screeches. It’s not Hundred Reasons’ Colin Doran in his angsty heyday and I can imagine comparisons to the strained croaks of a melodramatic teenager.
This is the risk that Splitsville are willing to run and it is an admirable effort. For fans of Hindsights or similar modern British emo, there will be a lot to like here.
Across the four songs, there are nuggets of brilliance that show a band still getting to grips with what it wants to be. A recurring theme is swirling guitar riffs that elevate above the drums through echo and delay. Splitsville hail from Exeter and there are definite parallels to be made with bleak winters on the South West coast. The breakdown riffs on both ‘I’ll Be Fine’ and ‘Inadequacy’ are shining examples of how a sense of place can impact on a song.
Musically, the band is incredibly tight and excels at creating the sort of epic sounds that have become a staple of the past few years in British emo. ‘Grayscale’ (Americanisation, be damned!) is the most dynamic song on the EP. It holds a steady beat for the melancholic riff to work its magic over the verse. Around the 2 minute mark, we encounter a breakdown that allows space for each instrument to build up until a crushing cry of: “I’m sorry it could never be me”.
Though there’s nothing particularly new or cutting-edge on this EP, it’s best consider as a starting point for Splitsville to build from and create a sound for themselves.
ASHLEY PARTRIDGE