The Menzingers – On The Impossible Past

Having inked a deal with punk institution Epitaph last year, The Menzingers’ third full length On The Impossible Past comes with an added weight of expectation. Having charmed the likes of label founder and Bad Religion guitarist Brett Gurewitz (who proceeded to heap effusive praise on the band when quizzed on the signing), they’ve got a better than average chance of pulling the same trick on the rest of us, as what we have here is a record full of straight-shooting, unpretentious punk rock that’s destined to find a place in the minds, hearts and stereos of genre aficionados old and new.

On The Impossible Past is an album which is all at once melodic, bruising, contemplative, anthemic and empowering. It boasts a strength of melody that is unwavering across the board, particularly on the fist-pumping ‘Mexican Guitars’ and the irrepressible ‘Gates’. Opener ‘Good Things’ lurches with both aggression and melancholy, while ‘Burn After Writing’ is one of those pure punk songs that seem in disappointingly short supply in the mainstream these days. Production-wise there are few tricks to hide behind, and it’s a sparse production technique that fits the rawness of The Menzingers like a glove. Influences are worn on sleeves without the faintest trace of pastiche, and the whole affair rings with heart, energy and authenticity.

It would be easy to single out virtually every track on On The Impossible Past (save a commendably thin spattering of genre-standard tedium) for individual comment, but to save all of us some time, it’s easier to simply say that The Menzingers make the kind of punk rock that inspires people to start bands. For instance, when ‘Gates’ hits its brilliant apex, you almost feel like you could write it yourself. Whether you really could or couldn’t is irrelevant; the trick is that it feels achievable, in the best way possible, and that simultaneous feeling of euphoria and attainability is difficult to replicate.