New York, NY (Top40 Charts) Can a band be rough and delicate at the same time? What sort of artists can hold these opposite forces in tension, synthesize them in real-time, sear them, and develop something entirely new? Pistols At Dawn, that's who. On "Not Sorry," their scalding new single, they're gentle and ferocious, uncompromising and welcoming, tuneful and rhythmic, consonant and distorted, sometimes in the same musical phrase.
With "Not Sorry," the Atlanta-based quartet perfects the sound they've developed for the past two years. They've established themselves as a different kind of hard rock band - one as adept at coining melodies as any pop group, one as confessional and forthright as any folksinger, and one as eclectic and ambitious as any experimental combo. Their new single is the fullest realization of their collective vision: a song that hits with pulverizing force but is also catchy enough for a radio set.
It also foregrounds the band's musical mastery and arrangement smarts. The verse is driven by a high-string bass groove as tightly wound as a sailor's knot. The beats are rock solid but subtly tricky, the lead guitar is scalding, and Pistols At Dawn spikes the arrangement with synthesizers, samples, and sinister electronic effects. The chorus is powerfully sung and instantly memorable - but so is the pulverizing mid-song breakdown. Even the lyric is loaded with complicated ideas as the band examines the dynamics and emotional repercussions of a relationship gone wrong.
As any fan will know, Pistols At Dawn is a formidable prospect in concert. They're a heavy band with an unerring ability to get the floor shaking. Video director Michael Levine captures the power of the group's live show in his moody, artful, and haunting clip for "Not Sorry." He doesn't need to put these musicians onstage - all he has to do is find them a place on a shadowed set and let them rip.
Everything about the performance area is a little off-kilter. Holes are torn in the fabric that covers the wall, water pouring down and the musicians share the stage with weathered statues that bear expressions of unnerving passivity. They've got weapons to turn against the darkness, through their musical instruments.
