It’s been 2,886 days. That’s seven years, 10 months, and 26 days.
When Brand New released Daisy on September 22, 2009, things got complicated. While their third LP, The Devil and God are Raging Inside Me, has been long lauded as one of, if not the, greatest emo records in the genre’s existence—it made them the cult band—Daisy struggled to win the same homogenous recognition from critics and, especially, fans.
Drew Beringer of AbsolutePunk (now chorus.fm) declared, “Daisy is auditory proof, as this is the Long Island quintet’s most challenging and distinguished album yet,” but also commented that “some will love it, some will hate it, most will be perplexed by it and will need many listens to digest it.”
Alex Young of Consequence of Sound rated the album a “C+” on their grading scale, writing, “all the abrasiveness comes across as a bit fake, almost excessive at times, as if they are settling on a sound they know will just work.” BBC‘s Chris Beanland shared similar sentiments: “by expanding their palette, Brand New may have lost some of their own identity.”
Daisy is a violent engine breakdown, and it’s difficult not to look at it through the same lens we view Nirvana’s In Utero.
And then Brand New disappeared.
For a band that had provided catharsis at every turn to their angsty following, Daisy wasn’t the ending most wanted to accept, certainly not the ending anyone expected, and with Science Fiction now in hand, the ending that never was.
But it was hard to see the light through the years of statements of “we’re working on a new album” without payoff and radio silence—Brand New’s glamour partly derives from their lack of social media appeal, the counterweight being their immense live presence. From the Robert Langdon-worthy scavenger hunt of SHONE (drummer Brian Lane’s 2012 side project) to the cl