There are events in life that become catalysts for so many questioning, pallid nights. The catharsis that only 2 a.m., darkness and the mist that forms after rain (symbolic of renewal or continued haze?) can induce is cold comfort in an existence that is marred by emotional masochism. There’s a special bond between the sufferers of the state of diffused apprehension. Some communicate the experience through words, many through film, and others through music. The Chroma Keys, Pink Floyds and Mastodons of the world are finely attuned to desperation; it’s the blue-print for their emotional remissions. And now, add to that group …And You Will Know Us By The Trail Of Dead. To classify it simply, Source Tags & Codes is nothing more than emo-inflected hardcore. But for those who pick up on subtlety, and understand that music is more than background to water your plants to, …Trail Of Dead is the ultimate in progressiveness. When I say progressive, I don’t mean technique. I mean progress in the sense of being ahead, and being part of the insight before anyone else is. Sometimes, as another scribe from this site has said, there are bands whose emotion is so real, so prominent, so upfront, that there’s no faking it, no matter how many times the guitars have been overdubbed. And in the case of …Trail Of Dead, you’re treated to syncopatic irregularities (”How Near, How Far”) on top of tales of disenchantment (”Another Morning Stoner”), disillusion (”It Was There That I Saw You”) and broken reflections of yourself (”Heart In The Hand”). This will bring back specific events that act as landmarks (December ‘97, Summer ‘99, October ‘01) and force you to revisit and genuflect head on (man, it was four years ago, but it was yesterday). This isn’t always easy, and as such the music can oftentimes be difficult to listen to. But there are different degrees of pain, and …Trail Of Dead doesn’t delve into the upfront disembodiment of Khanate. This is subtle, yet still maligned, pure consciousness and in the end, it has you wishing for the welcome respite that never comes.

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