State Faults
Children of the Moon
DEATHWISH
Generally speaking, hypothesizing about imaginary scenarios and what you think you might do if you’re in one is an utterly useless exercise. After all, what’s the point of conjecturing about something whose chance of happening is thinner than a nylon guitar string? Even with that in mind, erudite, heavy-rock fans can’t help but wonder what post-hardcore would’ve metamorphosed into were it not for the tireless work of unsung and uncompromising heroes like State Faults. Hailing from Santa Rosa, California, the screamo outfit became something of a renaissance band whose capabilities seemed unlimited upon the release of their first two records, 2012’s Desolate Peaks and the following year’s Resonate/Desperate. With each subsequent release, their unquenchable creativity and artistic exploration has continued to underscore and reinforce their integrity and talents—not only in recording studios, but on the stage, too.
But with their momentum reaching new heights following their scintillating 2019 album Clairvoyant, the next year halted their upward trajectory. Determined to persevere even during the era of COVID lockdowns, the glass-half-full group that is State Faults bounced back in a big way with their enviable talents culminating like never before on their fourth LP, Children of the Moon. To best appreciate this newest release is to be well-acquainted with what preceded it: State Faults didn’t seem to have developed the ability to rein in their bombastic impulses a decade ago on Desolate Peaks and, consequently, their superb songcraft took a back seat. The band tried to tone it down a notch on Resonate/Desperate, but the record nonetheless remains a Siamese twin of sorts to its predecessor.
From all indications, the fourth time’s the charm for State Faults. Children of the Moon fixes the mistakes of their previous releases in that the clearly maturing band isn’t afraid to turn down the volume, turn off the distortion pedals, and turn to face the crowd. The new direction is demonstrably pleasing to the musicians as well: “Blood Moon” and “Distant Omen” in particular are upbeat paeans to being alive (Fucked Up would be proud). Sure, Children of the Moon still gifts State Faults fans with the vivacity they’ve come to expect. However, as it’s also the band’s most expansive and explorative record to date, the quartet furthers the project as a potential masterpiece by guiding listeners through myriad emotions that most hardcore-punk bands don’t attempt to convey.
“Palo Santo,” for example, is a dissonant song that breaks up the speed-freaky start to the record. “Leviathan,” a rather sullen reflection on coping with anger, features Slash-level guitar heroics. Another facet of the record that seemingly comes out of nowhere is the 10-plus minute “No Gospel,” the best-written State Faults song on this album, albeit one that may test attention spans. A more significant flaw on Children of the Moon—and there aren’t many—is the record’s subpar mix and production. Particularly when State Faults explode into cacophony, the music stutters like the third-generation copy of a bootleg cassette. Material this strong didn’t deserve such lackluster studio treatment.
It may have taken five years for State Faults to carefully craft Children of the Moon. But that’s a testament to how a fuck-it-all hardcore band decided to continue improving their musicianship and technical prowess. The hard work paid off, as evidenced by this bold foray into which State Faults enlighten, improve, and challenge themselves—and guide their listeners along the same path.
