3 years later: "TRAUMA" revisited

When this post drops, tomorrow will be the third anniversary of my favorite album in the world: I Prevail's sophomore record, TRAUMA.

It's a record that cemented them as my favorite band of all time. And it's one I've talked about in some way shape or form on this blog a lot. But it's never one I really thoroughly discussed.

So in honor of its anniversary, I thought I'd sit down and actually write a post about why I love it so much.

I talked about it in my post about sophomore albums two weeks ago, but this record was I Prevail reclaiming their music. After struggling with their labels A&R and the producers they gave them on their last album, TRAUMA was written and produced completely on the band's own terms. It was the music they wanted to make, the things they wanted to say, with no filters.

Prior to this album cycle, they were nearly ready to give up on music, to quit being in a band. But they gave it one final go, put everything on the line.

And it sure as hell paid off.

The record earned them two Grammy nominations, one for Best Metal Performance for "Bow Down" and one for Best Rock Album. It charted higher than their first record Lifelines had. It saw them playing festivals at a higher billing or even headlining some of them. In the past three years, this record has seen them a lot of success. And it even restored their faith in music and proved to them that if they made the music they wanted to make, there would still be people there that wanted to listen. And it's a record that made them learn that Carrie Underwood likes their music, which was a massive surprise for the band.

If you want to follow along as I talk through roughly each song on the album, you can listen to it right here:

TRAUMA opens with one of, if not the heaviest track on the record, "Bow Down." It was one of two singles they dropped to announce the album, the other being "Breaking Down." Paired with a music video, this song takes aim at the music industry and its attempts to control the band. They aren't having any of it though, not any more, and this song is proof of that. It's such a heavy-hitting track that draws you immediately in with its guitar. Lead singer Brian Burkheiser's vocals blend so smoothly with his fellow co-vocalist Eric Vanlerberghe's screaming vocals. That's one thing I've always loved about their music -- the two vocalists compliment each other so well. Eric's vocals are so hard-hitting, so intense, and Brian's are more emotion-driven and smooth. They work so well together. I love a lot of bands that feature screaming -- whether a pairing of two vocalists or a single one that does both -- and at the end of the day, it always comes back to their vocals for me.

"Bow Down" ends in a heavy blur of chants of the words "bow down" that dissolves smoothly into the next track, "Paranoid." It's those little nuances, to me, that makes listening to an album straight through, beginning to end, worth it. That's a different story, though, honestly.

"Paranoid" is a track unlike any other I Prevail had ever put out at that point. It's not a super heavy track in the slightest. It's not really a heavy track at all. Its chorus approaches the territory, with its unclean vocals and heavier guitars, but it doesn't really ever cross it. Its sound actually reflects its lyrical material in a fascinating way. The line "I think I'm paranoid," which is usually said by Brian a little quieter than the rest, just around the level of a whisper, is typically accompanied by a lull in the music. That is, until the chorus when Eric screams it. Most of Eric's vocals throughout the track actually approaches rap territory, instead of screaming. "Paranoid" is the records first touch at mental health, dealing with the thoughts in your head that are, well, not so good. It's a fascinating track, a fun one, an experimental one for the boys. And it's just so good. It's infectious in a way you wouldn't really expect. It's not like a pop music level of infectious, no, these boys could never pull that off. Its completely its own level of infectious.

With one last whisper of "I think I'm paranoid," the track ends, giving way to "Every Time You Leave," which features Delaney Jane. The song itself is about how difficult it is to leave you significant other, particularly for them, to go on tour. The music video, though, released in 2020, expands on that meaning, depicting a woman leaving her partner for the military, to go to war, and also a man in the war-ridden country leaving his partner and child to go fight as well. It depicts the pain of a significant other in the military and just how hard it is to leave, even when it's absolutely necessary. It's an emotional video for an emotionally-charged track. It's a beautiful duet between Brian and Delaney Jane. The two work so well together, their voices complimenting each others. The track hits all the right highs and lows. It's one of very few tracks that don't feature any vocals from Eric, but, even though it pains me to say so, it's for the best on this one. His harsh vocals would've just diluted the already poignant song.

That emotional "love song" is followed by the hard-hitting "Rise Above It." The other track on the album with a feature, this one brings in rapper Justin Stone. It's such a beautiful contrast to "Every Time You Leave" that works so well in succession by the song's slow start. This track's a message to the haters, to the one's who stood in your way, to the one's who told you that you would never make it. It's an anthemic hype song. I mean, here's the lyrics to the chorus:

"I count my enemies like trophies

I wear my scars so they can show me

Now I've got nothing left to prove

So when I look at you, all I see are trophies, trophies

I'm not afraid

To put it all on the line like it runs in my veins

I will stop at nothing 'cause I was made to rise above it"

Tell me it's possible to not get hyped to that. I'll tell you it's impossible, especially combined with the powerful drums and guitars that hit with the title of the song. When Justin Stone comes in on the second verse, he fits seamlessly. It doesn't for a second feel out of place when added into the mix with Eric and Brian's vocals. It's a phenomenal track, one that's stood the test of time as my favorite off this record, and one that constantly switches in and out as my favorite track of theirs of all time (it switches often with their 2014 "Crossroads").

"Rise Above It" fades gently into "Breaking Down." The other of the first singles from TRAUMA, this track pins its focus on mental health. With its music video, it delves into depression and how it can take control of your life -- how it really did take control of Brian's life for some time. It's more along the lines of a lowkey track, as far as this album goes, but its guitars are still heavy, still draw your focus. But a lot of the track let's the vocals shine without too much gimmicks, too many heavy guitars and drums and bass lines. It has the same powerful feel as every other track on this record, it really does. But the way it ends, with the slow repetition of "I don't really like myself" before ending with "I think I'm breaking down," with very little instrumentals to accompany it -- it's so powerful and full of emotion. It sticks with you long after the song ends.

The next track, my favorite at the time of the album release, is "DOA." This one takes aim at gun violence, particularly with school shootings in mind. In May of 2020, the band released a version of the track with rapper Joyner Lucas and a music video to pair with it that furthers drives home the meaning behind the song. But that's not the version that's on the album, so that's not the one we're listening to here. This one pairs Brian's clean vocals with Eric's screaming, but also Eric's very own in-between version of spoken word and rap. The drums are the driving force instrumentally throughout the track, and are really complimented in the chorus by the heavy guitar. The song hits an emotional note vocally in the bridge, where it pulls back to make way for the emotion dripping from Brian's vocals, before coming back just as strong in the chorus again. It's an angry track, for sure, at its core, but this one's mostly angry at the world, at society, instead of at specific people. It's a well-rounded track that hits all the right notes.

As angry as "DOA" is, the next track is even angrier. "Gasoline" starts with a heavy guitar and Eric coughing before he screams "let's burn it fucking down" and the drums and the bass come in hard. This track hits 100 fast and it doesn't come down. Where "DOA" saw Eric's in-between version of rap and spoken word, "Gasoline" sees Brian's in the verse. Eric takes over the pre-chorus and chorus, and even the bridge, as the only vocalist. It's his time to shine and shine he does. It's a very intense track, one that urges paving your own path, doing things your way, while also dissing those who tried to pave the band's path. It's them saying, well "burn it all down, I don't give a fuck" to those who created an image for who the band was supposed to be, to those who created a path for them that they wanted nothing to do with. This track is them burning it all down and doing things their way.

We're about halfway through the album now, if not a little farther. "Hurricane," the eighth track, is accompanied by a music video that details their story to this point. If there's anything you do after reading this, I hope it's at least giving that one a watch, honestly. It gives you a good sense of the guys. The track details their struggles, how they felt they lost themselves and were uncertain if it was worth it to try and recoup as a band. It's a powerful song that, for some reason or another, always makes me close my eyes and really focus on it when I hear it. It let's Brian's vocals shine, utilizing Eric's unclean vocals mainly to highlight Brian's voice. It's a track that genuinely hits like a tidal wave, with the high impact choruses and the super emotive verses. And it ends with a perfect outro for the track, that leads beautifully into the next.

"Let Me Be Sad" is an emotional high on the record. Driven by the vocals that are highlighted by a soft guitar and programming and keyboard, it's a track that once again focuses in on mental health. There's two songs on this 13-track album they've never played live -- this is one of them. If they had, I absolutely would've been in tears in the crowd. The progression of the song is wonderful and works beautifully in tangent with the lyrical content. It starts slow, builds up to the chorus, which builds to the next verse that features Eric's take on rap, which in turn builds more steadily to the next chorus. When the verse gives way to the chorus, you're met with the electric guitar and the drums you're used to hearing in an I Prevail track. When that chorus gives way to an instrumental break, the electric guitar really takes hold through the next verse. As the next chorus comes in, the track takes a step, really honing in on Brian's vocals before coming back strong at the tail end of the chorus. Brian's vocals in the outro are some of my favorite throughout the record. The pairing of the powerful long notes of "let me be sad" and the quiet but so emotive "I'm holding back right now / 'Cause I'm numb to what's around" is so perfect and harmonious. It's the powerful vocals we're used to hearing from Brian working beautifully with its contrast. And I love it so much.

The next track, "Low," is also, lyrically a sad one, one that deals with depression and self-doubt. But sonically it's the polar opposite of "Let Me Be Sad." It's right back to the heavy tracks we're used to, chalk full of heavy drums and pairings of clean and unclean vocals. Eric's and Brian's vocals work so smoothly together in this one, bouncing off each other, one highlighting the other. The track lyrically deals with feeling depressed even when everything's going well, even when you should be happy. It deals with the voices in your head, telling you you're not enough. The instrumentals never detract from the vocals or the lyrical meaning. This one's a top 3 favorite track on this record, even if it's sometimes hard for me to articulate why.

"Goodbye (Interlude)" is perhaps the most emotional track on the record, even if it's also the shortest. It's chalk full of emotion, as Eric raps the words that tell the story of him learning about his best friend's suicide while he was gone on tour in 2016. It's a remembrance, it's Eric dealing with his loss and grief. I'll never forget seeing this one live back in 2019. It's a short but sweet and powerful track that lets Eric and Brian do all the talking. The instruments are pretty minimal: a somber pattern of keys, a pretty easy-going drum beat and some programming. It's hard to hear it and not feel the emotion oozing from the track.

Following the interlude, there's two remaining tracks. First up, the heavy as all hell "Deadweight" -- my sophomore year anthem, to be honest. This song's all about cutting out the deadweight in your life, cutting out the one's that don't believe. The verses are Eric's stomping grounds, where all things are heavy, from drums, to bass, to guitar. It's a track that doesn't let up. It really doesn't. Similar to "Gasoline," it hits 100 quickly and never comes down. It's a cathartic track to scream at the top of your lungs -- or at least try to. It's angry. It's what I Prevail does best. Each line is a beautiful dig at the people this song is about. It's quite wonderful, really. And it's good advice to live by:

"Yeah, I'm cutting out the deadweight

Yeah, I'm cutting out the ones who drag me down

All this negativity weighing down on me"

The last track is an emotional closer. The one other song that they've yet to play live, "I Don't Belong Here" is the embodiment of feeling like you just don't belong and the feeling of numbness. It features just Brian at vocals, where he really creates a beautiful, emotional performance. It's clear that these words mean a lot to him, that these words were things he was guilty of thinking, or at least had been. Instrumentally, it's pretty stripped back as far as I Prevail goes. It's almost haunting, even, especially with the slow fading outro. Some of his vocals in the choruses really sticks with you. It's a gorgeous, powerful end. It's not the earth-shattering heavy tracks that make up their discography, no. But it's real and honest -- the biggest and most important trait of their music. What makes a good closing song? That answer can differ. For this record, "I Don't Belong Here" is perfect. It's the accumulation of Brian's struggles with his mental health, something this record deals with extensively.

Three years later and I'm still deeply in love with TRAUMA. Every track on it is important, in itself and its meaning, in the landscape of the record, and in the landscape of their overarching discography. Each track is different, they push boundaries. Nothing is off limits to them in this record. There's no weak link. If you asked me what my least favorite song was, I don't think I could, not without really contemplating it.

It's a record that no matter what mood I'm in, I'll listen to it over and over again. Even if metal is the absolute last thing I want to hear, if someone threw on TRAUMA, I'd be singing/screaming every word and jamming so hard. It's impossible for me not to. The record's been there with me through every high and low of the last three years, and while that may sound stupid, in the end, it got me through a lot of really low lows and gave me a soundtrack to some of the great moments.

To this day, the tracks from this record make up all of my top nine most listened to tracks of all time on Spotify. All 13 of them land somewhere in the top 20, the lowest being number 17. At the end of the day, there ultimately is no album that means more to me than this one. It'll take a lot for a record to some day beat this one out as my favorite. In fact, it'll take so much that I doubt it happens any time soon, if ever. There is no album I can listen to as much, as thoroughly as TRAUMA. To me, at least, there's nothing quite like it.