The Silent Treatment

A lonely piano, an empty feeling of loss in the vocals, a little bit of cold weather, and a couple of whiskey sours make this Chicago quintet a little different than the rest of those bands wearing their hearts out - and on their sleeves.

The piano and the hard hitting drums keep the rhythm deadly accurate, heavy, and driving - the intricate guitars - and at times, loud and overdriven - slap you in the face and reach into your stomach on some of the chunkier parts - the backing screams of Kris Murphy accenting Greg Calvert's vocals give this band more of a foot stomping, rather than head bobbing feel! A bit of guitar delay that reminisces of earlier U2, and opens up the songs exactly in the right places.

The songs focus on the here and now, riddled with uncertainty, the moment that you feel something, the moment that you want to call him or her up and tell him/her everything you ever thought about. Every time you ever wanted to get up and go, and never look back. Everything that you ever did wrong, and everything that you always wanted in this one person, and everything and every reason you should have walked away. One can imagine driving away on a rainy night to some unknown destination to get away from all that was ever wrong in your life. And maybe, just maybe this one person will come with you… and maybe this person is a part of the problem... the only thing you're sure of is that everything will be better when you get there with or without him or her... with or without those few drinks before you crash out in your new bed in your new city...