Eighteen Hundred And Froze To Death: Thirds LP
Release date: June 22, 2024Download zip file:
Bio: Eighteen Hundred and Froze to Death formed in upstate New York in the late ’90s, playing a kind of angular, clangy post-punk/indie rock that evoked a lot of the sounds and scenes of the era: Washington D.C., Chicago, Chapel Hill, San Diego, etc. The band took its name from a phrase that commemorated 1816, the year in which regions of North America suffered dire crop shortages due to the eruption of Mount Tambora in the Dutch East Indies.
After releasing an album and split EP, the band closed up shop in 2002. Guitarist Joe Kepic and bassist Tom Yagielski continued playing together in New York City, reuniting with drummer Brendan Kuntz to release an album as The 1,000-Year Plan. Singer/guitarist David Nutt went on to release four records with why+the+wires.
Thirteen years after disbanding, Eighteen Hundred resumed operations in 2015. New songs were written. Old arguments were rehashed. In 2019, they released their first LP of new music in almost two decades, Some Years, produced by J. Robbins (Jawbox, Burning Airlines). The sound was a streamlined version of their early efforts: still propulsive and bombastic, with crackling guitars and a hyperactive rhythm section, but tighter, more tuneful.
In the years since, the members chipped away at new songs while juggling a variety of ancillary interests. Kuntz released six solo albums as Grass Jaw. Kepic formed a noisier outfit, Chimes of Bayonets, opened an amp-repair business, Resident Noise, and began building his own line of effects pedals. Nutt published two books of fiction. Yagielski lost his mind and moved to rural Pennsylvania.
In 2023 the band, now based in Ithaca, NY, ventured to Sunwood Recording in nearby Trumansburg to record the new material with producer Christopher Ploss. J. Robbins returned to mix the record and, thrill of thrills, contributed backing vocals to the album’s closing song.
The new LP, Thirds, is a summary of sounds past but more dynamic, with layers of fuzzed-out guitars, calm intercessions, catchier choruses, and the occasional classic rock flourish. It takes the band’s early DNA of Fugazi, Superchunk, and Mission of Burma, splices in a few strands of Black Sabbath and Motorhead, and tops it with the swirling, crunchy melodicism of Bob Mould and Dinosaur Jr. And feedback. Lots of feedback.
After releasing an album and split EP, the band closed up shop in 2002. Guitarist Joe Kepic and bassist Tom Yagielski continued playing together in New York City, reuniting with drummer Brendan Kuntz to release an album as The 1,000-Year Plan. Singer/guitarist David Nutt went on to release four records with why+the+wires.
Thirteen years after disbanding, Eighteen Hundred resumed operations in 2015. New songs were written. Old arguments were rehashed. In 2019, they released their first LP of new music in almost two decades, Some Years, produced by J. Robbins (Jawbox, Burning Airlines). The sound was a streamlined version of their early efforts: still propulsive and bombastic, with crackling guitars and a hyperactive rhythm section, but tighter, more tuneful.
In the years since, the members chipped away at new songs while juggling a variety of ancillary interests. Kuntz released six solo albums as Grass Jaw. Kepic formed a noisier outfit, Chimes of Bayonets, opened an amp-repair business, Resident Noise, and began building his own line of effects pedals. Nutt published two books of fiction. Yagielski lost his mind and moved to rural Pennsylvania.
In 2023 the band, now based in Ithaca, NY, ventured to Sunwood Recording in nearby Trumansburg to record the new material with producer Christopher Ploss. J. Robbins returned to mix the record and, thrill of thrills, contributed backing vocals to the album’s closing song.
The new LP, Thirds, is a summary of sounds past but more dynamic, with layers of fuzzed-out guitars, calm intercessions, catchier choruses, and the occasional classic rock flourish. It takes the band’s early DNA of Fugazi, Superchunk, and Mission of Burma, splices in a few strands of Black Sabbath and Motorhead, and tops it with the swirling, crunchy melodicism of Bob Mould and Dinosaur Jr. And feedback. Lots of feedback.