The words ā€?This is Hellā€¯ are inextricably linked in my mind with the whiteboy reggae song of the same name by Adelaide group The Jerks, but the five-piece US outfit using the phrase as their moniker could hardly be further removed from that association. Instead, this sophomore album illustrates that viciously punishing hardcore is the name of their game.

Dan Bourke pounds the drums like heā€™s got eight arms, while Rick Jimenez and Chris Reynoldsā€™ guitars are no less relentless, but itā€™s Travis Reillyā€™s abrasively shouted delivery that proves to be the most powerful element.

Unlike a lot of similar acts, This is Hell arenā€™t afraid of songs that are over two-and-a-half minutes in length. While cuts such as opener Reckless and Fearless Vampires get in and out quickly and leave you wanting more, the group answers that wish with three tracks that break the four minute mark, as well as several more that nudge it. These extended outings give the band a chance to stretch themselves a bit more and help to avoid repeating the same formulas on each of the 13 songs. In Shambles stands out as a perfect example of this, incorporating tempo changes and pushing the band to achieve a result thatā€™s definitely impressive.

Thatā€™s not to say that the shorter tracks arenā€™t also worthwhile ā€“ Realisation: Remorse is deliberately paced but still gripping, while the equally brief Without Closure which immediately follows is much more frantic and extremely adrenalised, proving to be one of the albumā€™s many highlights.

The in-your-face intensity of Misfortunes should secure This Is Hell a reputation in hardcore as an important band to check out.

Owen Heitmann

It would have been a massive injustice if Time Again hadnā€™t ended up on Hellcat Records, given how much their sound is indebted to Hellcat co-owner Tim Armstrongā€™s band Rancid ā€“ particularly that groupā€™s earlier, heavily street-punk albums. Time Againā€™s second full-length takes the blueprint for most of its songs straight from Rancidā€™s Letā€™s Go record: opener Day Like This and Montreal (Street Kids) duplicate that hardcore sound, Armstrong-soundalike vocalist Daniel Dartā€™s rapid-fire verses on One Way Or Another call to mind As One, new bassist Oren Sofferā€™s rattling delivery echoes Matt Freemanā€™s, and the first line of Movinā€™ Onā€™s spoken intro even seems a direct homage to Dope Sick Girl.

With the infectious Lines Are Faded, they also show the influence of …And Out Come the Wolves, 1995ā€™s accessible breakthrough release. Similarly catchy qualities appear on Lookinā€™ Back (an unusual expression of contrition in a genre thatā€™s usually gloriously unrepentant), the memorable TV Static and particularly the final cut Outcast. However, the bulk of the album remains full-throttle, as on the pummelling 90-second Youā€™re Going Down.

Itā€™s difficult to overlook the Rancid comparisons (although guitarist Elijah Reyesā€™ riff on Soon It Will Be could have come from Offspringā€™s classic Smash album, so fans of 90s punk are in for a treat), but unlike equally derivative labelmates Static Thought, Time Again capture the substance of their role models as well as the surface. As familiar as they are, these arenā€™t just hackneyed variations on existing riffs, but great songs ā€“ especially Lines Are Faded and the fist-in-the-air shoutalong anthem Outcast.

Owen Heitmann

With this second studio album, City & Colour is beginning to look less like a side project for Alexisonfire guitarist and co-vocalist Dallas Green and more like a fully fledged concern. Green has even roped in other musicians to help flesh out his solo sound this time around (although, confusingly, the album sleeve still states ā€?all songs performed by Dallas Greenā€¯ while simultaneously crediting extra musicians on all but two of the tunes), adding instruments like bass, mandolin, pedal steel guitar, violin, and even drums on a few tracks (including the shimmering Waiting…).

More important than these cosmetic changes is the progression in Greenā€™s songwriting. While his debut Sometimes had a couple of great singer-songwriter numbers on it, it also had a lot of filler. Although Bring Me Your Love has its share of filler (the snooze-inducing Sensible Heart, for example), it delivers a much better hit-to-miss ratio.

The up-tempo two-part The Girl is a vibrant, banjo-fuelled highlight, and the lively jangle of The Death Of Me nicely sets off its introspective lyrics. But even the decidedly measured pace of Confessions is elevated by a memorable chorus.

The album is about two songs too long, but missteps like dawdling final track As Much As I Ever Could are more than offset by treasures such as the folksy Body In A Box. Thereā€™s an oddly cavernous ambiance on many of the tracks (including What Makes A Man? and Sleeping Sickness, which features guest vocals from The Tragically Hipā€™s Gord Downie), as if they were recorded in a large empty room ā€“ but outside of the studio, City & Colour is unlikely to be performing at empty venues any time soon.

Owen Heitmann