Always Foreign

While Always Foreign is by no means a happy record, it’s still a joy to listen to, driven by the same belief in community, evolution, and possibility that earned their debut EP the title of Formlessness.

It's not loud or in-your-face. It's not preachy. Their stance is subtle yet strong.

With Always Foreign, TWIABP's chaos is more calculated and controlled, even as their fiery resolve burns from the inside out.

They feel more effective now that they’ve found a way to write as a focused beam rather than a eclectic lineup of individual musicians, and long-term followers will be thrilled by the album’s back half, which retains their well-established experimental bent.

Given the state of American society and politics in 2017, the catharsis the band taps into on new album Always Foreign sounds more necessary--and terrifying--than ever before.

A large portion of Always Foreign focuses on building terse melodic post-rock suites (Faker), though their words are necessary and valued, and they emote them with a heartfelt directness that recalls their formative beginnings (Dillon and Her Son, Gram). This balancing act of moods can sometimes lend Always Foreign an air of indecision, though if the intent was to take it as majestic as it can be, then they remove any trace of subtlety on the album’s rousing power ballad as if applying the handkerchief-in-hand progressive elements of Queensryche (Infinite Steve).