Post-hardcore Braid shout down obstacles to come out of retirement.
* How Alabama Shakes Turned a Shitty Career Break Into a Major Score
* Bloc Party Speaks: Why Bringing Their Guitars to HARD Summer is a Gutsy Move
*Young the Giant are OC's Next Great Band
"When I was a child, I always dreamt one day I'd have lymphoma," jokes singer/songwriter Robert Nanna, the 37-year-old Chicago musician who is best known for his raspy, impassioned vocals in legendary band Braid. He was diagnosed with cancer back in 2005, but luckily, he had started working at Threadless, an online arts community known for its T-shirt designs. The company offered health insurance, something being in a post-hardcore band--no matter how storied--didn't provide. After four rounds of chemotherapy, the cancer is in check, and Braid, who called it quits in 1999, have reunited. Armed with a new four-song EP, Closer to Closed, they'll share the stage at Pomona's Glass House with friend and labelmate Mike Kinsella of the band Owen, formerly of Illinois bands Cap'n Jazz and American Football.
Patricia Wysopal, label publicist for Polyvinyl Records, declines to get into specifics, but she says Frame and Canvas is an "evergreen title"; released more than a decade ago, it continues to be a top-seller for the label. Anchored by angular guitar assaults and the dueling screams of Nanna and co-guitarist Broach, it's an album that tends to get stuck between your ears.
Simultaneously abrasive and compelling, it's peppered with unexpected, melodic noodling. "Everybody at that time was super into the D.C. scene," says Kinsella, who remembers watching Nanna play drums in the band Friction before Braid formed. "It was our take on a melodic Fugazi." But '90s bands such as Braid and others from the Midwest took things a step further, infusing their music with influences from pop punk bands of the day and scrawling lyrical narratives about love, loss and angst. In the song "Collect From Clark Kent," Nanna wails at the limits of his vocal range, "Once in your arms, we'll rise above the clouds, you and me in a beautiful, aerial view." As he defiantly declares, "I'm never coming down," Broach screams rhythmically in the background while a cascade of guitars erupts in a dramatic, grooving crescendo.
Following the release of Frame and Canvas, Braid embarked on a series of grueling national and world tours, which took a toll on the members' sanity. "Personalities start clashing, and you start fighting about shit you weren't fighting about before because you have zero personal space," Nanna says. "And what was nuts is we'd get off tour, and we all lived together."