moe. - This Is Not, We Are (2020)

The ability for any partnership to survive thirty years is a remarkable feat, as I’m sure our married readers are willing to attest, but it is truly a rare accomplishment for musical groups to not only exist for over three decades, but to continue to thrive and musically evolve all while maintaining a legion of devoted followers numbering in the tens of thousands. This especially holds true in today’s technologically advanced age where we, as listeners & consumers, are constantly barraged with neatly packaged multi-media clips of the latest & greatest sound bites and live performances, only to see a large majority of them invariably fade away into the digital ether, never to be heard from again. However, the latest studio offering, This Is Not, We Are, from moe. is an outstanding example of the northeast based quintet’s ability to stay artistically relevant by successfully incorporating new musical styles into the familiar confines of the group’s trademark guitar-driven improv-laden sound.

A celebration of moe.’s milestone 30th anniversary, This Is Not, We Are marks the band’s first studio recording since 2014’s No Guts, No Glory and their 12th overall. It also represents the first material to be recorded since bassist and co-founding member Rob Derhak underwent (successful) treatment for oropharyngeal cancer in 2017.

The album, consisting of nine tracks with a runtime just north of 40 minutes, wastes no time introducing the listener to the general theme with the horns & vibraphone-driven “LL3.” The infectious melody and impressive playing from percussionist Jim Loughlin that are tastefully featured throughout the opening track seemingly take center-stage for the album’s entirety, especially on songs like the psychedelically cartoonish Loughlin-penned instrumental “Jazz Cigarette.”

The record’s sole love song, “Crushing”, an unabashed ode from guitarist Al Schnier to his wife, features some smooth vocals and electric piano work from Schnier and while it’s somewhat awkwardly placed in between the aforementioned percussive-heavy tracks “LL3” & “Jazz Cigarette”, the displacement is negligible enough that the album’s opening triad still manages to maintain an organic flow.

This is Not, We Are middle section begins with the album’s lone debut, “Undertone.” This Chuck Garvey penned rocker’s somewhat somber melody pairs well with the poignant lyrics that seem to take aim at today’s selfie & the device-obsessed world with lines such as “Pictures show a lack of poise / Modern tools get used like toys / False comfort in selves when you show all your tells and no one picks up on the obvious noise.”

The following two tracks, “Who You Calling Scared” and “Dangerous Game” harken back to the guitar-focused sound that has become a trademark of moe.’s legendary live performances with searing leads from Messrs. Schnier & Garvey, particularly during “Dangerous Game’s” intricate instrumental section. These tracks also feature some complex, yet accessible, horn charts that lend an air of fullness and maturity that can only be achieved in the studio.

The album closes with two more typically funky rockers, “Skitchin Buffalo” and “Along for the Ride,” with the former serving as an autobiographical trip down memory lane rife with references to many of the old Buffalo, NY haunts the band used to frequent during their formative years, while the album’s closing track features a frantic beat anchored by the percussive duo of Loughlin and drummer Vinny Amico writhing over a funky bass-line that seems to rubs elbows with The Spencer Davis Group’s “Gimme Some Lovin’.”

Although it took over six years for moe. to deliver their latest studio offering – their longest recording hiatus since the band’s 1992 debut release of Fatboy – This Is Not, We Are was certainly worth the wait. This cohesive collection of songs more or less fits like a lot shirt and showcase moe.’s unique ability of adhering to their improv-rock-centric past.