A terribly rare instance is that one where a five-song EP is actually well-formed enough, and well-rounded enough, to stand on its own as a piece of music; even rarer is when that band aspires to the lofty heights of multi-faceted songwriting. In the case of Dead Confederate’s self-titled EP, the brief twenty-five minute sonic ejaculation is more than sufficient to indicate that the Augusta, Georgia five-piece is a ball of rock energy to be reckoned with.
Of course, an EP has nary enough songs to write too effusively about. What’s key for Dead Confederate is that the songs here actually go somewhere. From the first song, “Memorial Day Night,” they sound like a winsome, mood-drenched band; there is raw, self-indulgent ascension in “Tortured Artist Saint,” and by the end track, a driving masterpiece called “Shadow The Walls” led by Hardy Morris’ howling voice and his driving guitar and accompanied by Walker Howle (how apropos), they sound like a desperate rock outfit in front of a teeming club. Or even stadium.
It’s an awesome build—a teaser, so to speak—and the EP ultimately feels much longer than it really is. One can only wonder, given a full LP release, what would exist in the margins of the Dead Confederate sound. This is the type of EP where a collector’s completist obsession begins.
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