Review: Taylor, Be Swift By Sailing


By: Harrison Giza

As much as I hate to say it, I only hate nineties rock because I love it so much. Love-hate is a common theme in my musical taste and when discussing rock ‘n’ roll, I become Rob Gordon.

Sailing is a band that has so far, with their one, count it ONE release, managed to get me to like them. This was after I listened to the song, Taylor Be Swift, sixteen times in a row.

A Power-trio without the golden Cream sound, a fast run without the D, M, or C, Sailing has a good fucking time with their music. It’s energetic, poppy field frolick that secretes emo, wanna-be-put-not-quite-there punk, and a mix of Donkey Konga drum beats. Right from the opening riff, which sets off my 90’s vibe, you feel as if your cool and parentally misunderstood friend showed you this while he chain-smoked Marb Reds. You’re riding sidecar in a red truck, bumping and bobbing in the speakers like a bouncy ball, forgetting about the fact you have to clock-in tomorrow.

The drawling breakdown is slow, picking up emo kicks with a shuttering guitar. It’s small, but enough small to give the track a warm twinge. Lyrically, some people may not even hear, see, or know there is something to absorb in. “Paves our way, the days have changed, we can’t see, we’ll forget today” is PERFECT genesis to start off their soon-to-be-full discography. They have left their homeland… the messiness of old friends is left on the shore. A caffeinated aorta is gone, void of pathos and filled in with a crisp idea of trying to stay good against every single odd. The boat paves the way into the harshness of future living, but with screams of excitement to replace the anger, hatred and self-foolishness of the past. It is a declaration of the band’s title. The boat is now sailing.

The first lines aren’t even my favorite ones. Endings mean a LOT to me and Sailing has a really, really, infinitely good one on Taylor, Be Swift. To start, the words are have just the right amount of poetic meaning to keep me dancing as well as reminiscing myself silly with each listen.

“Let the sun set, your spiral staircase, let the sun burn, your haunting eyes…”

Ryan Yero, the group’s singer and guitarist, howls out memories miles and miles away from the sea he rides. No matter how hard he tries to ignore the beaming sunset it continues to burn like Disco Inferno, seething and riddling his already clouded mind. He can’t sail away from the sun. It exists just as much as she does. And whoever she is, her eyes are infections so potent that he can no longer see the sun without seeing her haunting pupils.

Yero talked to me this week about the song as well as the band in general, saying “we are totally doing this band for fun. Not to impress anyone or get anyone to like us. We do it because it’s something that needs to be done. Good or bad.” While I feel that this is an honest truth, Yero is subconsciously bullshitting his as well as the band’s talent and possible greatness. The ending starts with a binding sledge of chords, thumping bass and drumsdrumsdrums. Our last chord hovers over the ears like distorted wind and quickly fades into an almost-brightness one might call the future. A single bell of a note softly pickpockets in as Yero’s fingers leave the strings.

Taylor, Be Swift leaves with an open mind, a new sense of reality, and a gut-busting chop of loud guitar, clunking bass, and drum wallop. Suffice to say, it’s a good song.

I can’t wait for more.




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