Jun 10, 2016
Live Long and Rock, Sirs: Diarrhea Planet- Turn to Gold
It seems ridiculous to think that a band called Diarrhea Planet could suffer the pressures of high expectations, but that’s exactly where the Nashville sextet finds itself this summer. On the strength of 2013’s I’m Rich Beyond Your Wildest Dreams, 2014’s Aliens in the Outfield, and a live show that reaches 11 in a way Spinal Tap only dreamed about, Diarrhea Planet has amassed a rabid fan base in the buildup to June 10’s Turn to Gold. Distilling the magic that is a Diarrhea Planet show is no easy task, nor is reigning in four guitars in the studio. In this regard, however, Turn to Gold is a triumph that reveals a band on the precipice of stardom (but that still breaks down their own gear).
The record kicks off with “Hard Style” a building march that should immediately be inserted into the most dramatic scene of Independence Day II. The band is known for expansive buildups, and this is their best yet. For a song with no words, “Hard Style” speaks volumes about the sheer joy that radiates from Diarrhea Planet’s music, permeating the song’s somber accents. Rather than opening with a kick in the face, “Hard Style” is a knowing nod to the expectations surrounding Turn To Gold where the boys effectively shake off any doubts before diving into the rocking at hand. “Announcement” seems to confirm this, with its references to chasing fool’s gold and finding oneself.
Far from one-note party rockers, the band has never shied away from discussing feelings of isolation and inertia and uncertain relationships, which are evident on “Ruby Red”, “Dune” and “Lie Down”, despite the affirmation of “Announcement.” “Let it Out” in particular gives the impression that the band is aware they’re at a pivotal stage in their lives/career with the line “and if I break it, I can put it back together, but I know it will never be the same.” But self-reflection doesn’t mean the band is self-absorbed either. As torchbearers for the Nashville indie rock community (along with big bros JEFF the Brotherhood), “Hot Topic” is both a lamentation on the city’s changing face and a scathing condemnation of gentrification that asks the newcomers “is this where you used to burn it down?” before spinning off into a pounding frenzy. A song about gentrification from a band of six white guys is admittedly rocky ground, but any concerns about authenticity crumble beneath the track’s devastatingly frenetic yet sludgy guitar attack.
They’ve come a long way from playing house parties at Belmont University, but the rollicking spirit of rock and roll remains the band’s lodestar. At their heart, Diarrhea Planet is just a group of friends that love playing together, and have tapped into the manic, beautiful essence of rock. This is evident in the exuberant “Life Pass” and “Bob Dylan’s Grandma” (both of which are huge at live shows), which details guitarist Emmett Miller’s rock and roll love story. Author’s note- I saw DP play the Black Cat in DC last week, and Emmett (perhaps the most virtuosic Planeteer) couldn’t wipe the grin off his face for the duration of the song. “Ain’t a Sin To Win” is a pure machismo-driven 70’s ripper that sounds like the result of a head on collision between Van Halen and Motorhead.
The album closes with “Headband”, the longest song in the Diarrhea Planet catalog, as it exorcises the demons and uncertainty explored in the middle of the record and returns to the unbridled optimism of the first two tracks. All four guitars are on full display during the cathartic closer, again highlighting Diarrhea Planet’s gift for grandiose build outs and harmonization. The whole record succeeds in capturing Diarrhea Planet’s raucous essence, but “Headband” perhaps best encapsulates the band’s hopeful look to the horizon, even in the face of uncertainty and doubt. For old fans, Turn to Gold is a kind of coming of age for the DIY rockers from Nashville, wherein they’ve made peace with the past and stand ready for the future. For newcomers, Gold is a crash course in one of rock’s true standard bearers.
