
HQ: Rochester, NYNOW PLAYING: Sometimes Things Just Disappear (RED LEADER; redleaderrecords.com) WHY YOU SHOULD KNOW 'EM: They're carrying the torch for mid-'90s post-hardcore along with a penchant for inexpensive Mexican food. What more could you ask for? YOU LIKE? YOU'LL LIKE: Hot Water Music / Small Brown Bike / The Gaslight Anthem STORY: Sam Sutherland PHOTO: Nick Brandreth "I don't know if you've ever looked at the Taco Bell menu in its entirety, but it's pretty huge. Our goal was to eat every item on the menu during the 18 days we were recording," explains Polar Bear Club guitarist Chris Browne of his band's Taco Bell Challenge. "It was really fun for about three days, but we had to cut it off pretty quickly. We were all physically and mentally ill." Besides making themselves sick from excessive chalupa consumption, the members of Polar Bear Club--Browne, guitarist Nate Morris, bassist Greg Odom (who has since been replaced by Erik Henning) and drummer Emmett Menke--found themselves committing to tape their highly-anticipated full-length, Sometimes Things Just Disappear. Featuring former members of Rochester, New York-area punk and hardcore bands, Polar Bear Club have hit the ground running in the past year, thanks to the release of their The Redder, The Better EP and relentless touring which hooked fans on to the band's mixture of mid-'90s emo and anthemic pop. "We try to walk a really fine line between influences like Hot Water Music and, you know... Third Eye Blind," Browne says, laughing. "We have no problem with the maximum amount of people hearing our record and coming to our shows. If that were to happen, fucking awesome. At the same time, I hope it remains clear how much we care about this music and how genuine it really, really is." That point is made a few moments into Sometimes opener "Eat Dinner, Bury The Dog, And Run" and doesn't let up until the album's crashing conclusion of "Convinced I'm Wrong," which is an epic recollection of Leatherface's gritty intensity and TEB's "Semi-Charmed Life." Then there's the title of the record, which may spark images of the band's deeper side, but its origin is actually light-hearted and, like most of the band's extracurricular activities, revolves around Taco Bell. "We had a few ideas for an album title, but no one was really jazzed about anything," remembers Browne. "One day, a couple of the guys were out at Taco Bell getting some food, and our old bass player, Greg, was ordering a Mexican pizza. The guy was like, 'Okay, that's $2.99,' and Greg's like, 'Oh, shit, really?!' He's looking around, and he doesn't have enough money on him, and he's like, 'Fuck, I don't know if I can get this Mexican pizza!' The guy who's working at the Taco Bell, who's this 17-year-old, slickly dressed guy wearing a tie, busts out his manager card, swipes it, and says, 'You know what? Don't worry about it. Sometimes things just disappear.'" ALT |