Originally developed as a one-off passion project, Trophy Scars decided to stick at it in the long-term due to acquiring a local fan base in their native Massachusetts.
With post-hardcore sensibilities in a similar vein to Touché Amoré, Native, Defeater and The Saddest Landscape, Trophy Scars have managed to etch out a rockier, blues-infused sound while retaining the core emotional investment, which has been a prominent aspect of the band’s ethos.
Playing tracks from their full length LP Holy Vacant, the band have perfected a sound, which, in theory, shouldn’t fit together as snugly as it does.
With bluesy guitar licks and hardcore undercurrents lying inconspicuously underneath the cohesive musical fusion, nothing has been forced or meticulously planned, as the originality has stemmed from natural maturation.
Jerry Jones, who is a captivating frontman, effortlessly switches between a Tom Waits-esque growl, to a more traditional vocal (traditional in the loosest sense possible).
Jones’ lyrical content is part of a Lynchean-influenced concept, which is the linear backbone of Holy Vacant, involving a romantic couple that has discovered The Fountain of Youth in the blood cells of angels.
The songs work just as well as standalone tracks; so it is fitting that most of the set tonight has been taken from their latest, and best material, to date.
With solid fretwork on bass complimenting Brian Farrara’s tour-de-force drum performance, the rhythmic duties are well and truly taken care of.
Accompanied by the rich, thick bluesy licks that would make the hairs on Jeff Beck’s neck stand up; guitarist John Ferrara fleshes out the four-piece’s idiosyncratic fundamentals.
The band really do provide something special tonight; a genre-less mash-up of angst-driven, traditional, yet unconventionally melancholic blues.
An absolutely blinding performance, it’s just a shame the set was so short.
Words: Derek Robertson