Rocker (feedbot)
Gold Member
Life is complicated, and Trash Boat have embraced the chaos. It’s been three years since we least heard from St Albans’ finest on record, and they’re continuing on the voyage of artistic self-discover that began with 2021’s ‘Don’t You Feel Amazing?’. The collectively-produced ‘Heaven Can Wait’ is one of these albums which could lazily be described as ‘something for everyone’, but honestly, between the disparate influences and tones collected within these eleven songs, you’d be hard-pressed not to find at least one aspect which you adore.
A raw, open quality permeates this record. Sure, there’s a ton of vocal effects and a level electronic fuzz clouding ‘Burn’, but a song that opens with the line “I don’t wanna be here” can’t be anything other than an unfiltered reflection of the anxious state of the world. In the space between albums, vocalist Tobi Duncan survived a long period of mental health issues. “For about six months, the prospect of even getting out of bed was terrifying,” he says. “It led me to question myself and my future in ways I never had before. What if this was my life now? A lot of ‘Heaven Can Wait’ was inspired by that time, what I went through, and how it made me see myself and the world.” Trash Boat never explicitly mention his struggle in clear terms, but it hides at the edge of their sound.
In their more melodic moments, it’s clear that a lot of these tracks are born from a place of pain. ‘Better Than Yesterday’ contains some of their bleakest lyrics, but also some of their more beautiful guitar work, before it crashes into screamed vocals and a backing vocal designed to be sung back. It hits like a daybreak prayer to the unseen forces that control serotonin. ‘Are You Ready Now?’, Trash Boat’s ode to rock bottom, uses the power of a visceral melodic scream to drive the pain home like sonic nails, but it’s also sweetly empathetic. The authenticity to the hurt they describe is what elevates this album over other reflections of inner turmoil.
It never hurts to invite your mates to guest star on a track or two, and the cameos on ‘Heaven Can Wait’ are blistering. Eric Vanlebergh of I Prevail drops in for the menacing ‘Be Someone’, a ranting response to the pressures of conformity. It’s the heaviest song on the album by a fair way, and it’s a fist-pounding, unforgiving but catchy three and a half minutes. If Linkin Park’s reunion and new singles left you wanting, you need to listen to ‘filthy/RIGHTEOUS’. Kenta Koie from Crossfaith joins for the best song that Chester Bennington and co never wrote, a song that rattles with insect-like malice and mammoth choruses. This stadium rage side of Trash Boat is glorious and needs to be centre stage in their live sets for maximum pit joy.
‘The Drip’ starts off a triplet of political statements, and dropping in and out of megaphone spoken words rants is a powerful tactic to ensure the grit of your message isn’t lost within the fuzzy loops of guitar. It’s a track that’s so different from the rest of the album, but upon second listen you realise that their blunt political sentiment wasn’t that far beneath the surface all along. ‘Liar Liar’ is the response we all wish we could write after reading one too many doom-spelling political reports; fiery, rage filled, short and hellish, its a fuse leading to musical dynamite. The polemics continue with ‘Delusions of Grandeur’. “I just want to change the world, I just don’t know where to begin,” Duncan despairs over turbulent guitar and surprisingly subtle bass touches. While it’s not exactly breaking news that Trash Boat have strong opinions, this overt presentation is refreshingly direct and we love them for it.
“I know that I’ll find a way, this won’t be the death of me,” sings Duncan on ‘Better Than Yesterday’, and he may as well have been talking about Trash Boat as a whole. ‘Heaven Can Wait’ can be seen as midway point from a band who are only amping up with each new album, and this is a necessary step on their path through unravelling the pain and excitement of existence.
KATE ALLVEY
A raw, open quality permeates this record. Sure, there’s a ton of vocal effects and a level electronic fuzz clouding ‘Burn’, but a song that opens with the line “I don’t wanna be here” can’t be anything other than an unfiltered reflection of the anxious state of the world. In the space between albums, vocalist Tobi Duncan survived a long period of mental health issues. “For about six months, the prospect of even getting out of bed was terrifying,” he says. “It led me to question myself and my future in ways I never had before. What if this was my life now? A lot of ‘Heaven Can Wait’ was inspired by that time, what I went through, and how it made me see myself and the world.” Trash Boat never explicitly mention his struggle in clear terms, but it hides at the edge of their sound.
In their more melodic moments, it’s clear that a lot of these tracks are born from a place of pain. ‘Better Than Yesterday’ contains some of their bleakest lyrics, but also some of their more beautiful guitar work, before it crashes into screamed vocals and a backing vocal designed to be sung back. It hits like a daybreak prayer to the unseen forces that control serotonin. ‘Are You Ready Now?’, Trash Boat’s ode to rock bottom, uses the power of a visceral melodic scream to drive the pain home like sonic nails, but it’s also sweetly empathetic. The authenticity to the hurt they describe is what elevates this album over other reflections of inner turmoil.
It never hurts to invite your mates to guest star on a track or two, and the cameos on ‘Heaven Can Wait’ are blistering. Eric Vanlebergh of I Prevail drops in for the menacing ‘Be Someone’, a ranting response to the pressures of conformity. It’s the heaviest song on the album by a fair way, and it’s a fist-pounding, unforgiving but catchy three and a half minutes. If Linkin Park’s reunion and new singles left you wanting, you need to listen to ‘filthy/RIGHTEOUS’. Kenta Koie from Crossfaith joins for the best song that Chester Bennington and co never wrote, a song that rattles with insect-like malice and mammoth choruses. This stadium rage side of Trash Boat is glorious and needs to be centre stage in their live sets for maximum pit joy.
‘The Drip’ starts off a triplet of political statements, and dropping in and out of megaphone spoken words rants is a powerful tactic to ensure the grit of your message isn’t lost within the fuzzy loops of guitar. It’s a track that’s so different from the rest of the album, but upon second listen you realise that their blunt political sentiment wasn’t that far beneath the surface all along. ‘Liar Liar’ is the response we all wish we could write after reading one too many doom-spelling political reports; fiery, rage filled, short and hellish, its a fuse leading to musical dynamite. The polemics continue with ‘Delusions of Grandeur’. “I just want to change the world, I just don’t know where to begin,” Duncan despairs over turbulent guitar and surprisingly subtle bass touches. While it’s not exactly breaking news that Trash Boat have strong opinions, this overt presentation is refreshingly direct and we love them for it.
“I know that I’ll find a way, this won’t be the death of me,” sings Duncan on ‘Better Than Yesterday’, and he may as well have been talking about Trash Boat as a whole. ‘Heaven Can Wait’ can be seen as midway point from a band who are only amping up with each new album, and this is a necessary step on their path through unravelling the pain and excitement of existence.
KATE ALLVEY