Original artwork of ‘10.21‘. Source: Rate Your Music
Demographically, the breadth of KAMP’s volunteer base, listenership and readership are—like me—in their 20s. Maybe it’s sophomoric to say as someone who just entered this bracket, but I imagine that the majority of peoples’ 20s are, in the words of my colleague Bruce, “an unnavigable gauntlet of heartbreak and depression.” It’s an almost painfully overdone theme in the countless books or poems or movies or TV shows or albums or EPs or LPs or melodramatic Instagram reels from meme accounts run by men pushing 30 (hello, One Big Party Fest!). If taste is relative, I hope I have better taste than those men, especially about one of my favorite albums of all time.
I could wax lyrical about this album. I could talk most of all how, 25 years on, 10.21 sounds like it could have been released yesterday. When I gush about “Ephyra / Trustkill / Hellfest worship” bands—an entirely arbitrary and fake genre that could be more accurately described as “melodic metalcore bands Faye likes”—10.21 is something of a template. Some of my favorite bands in the scene right now draw direct musical, tonal and etymological inspiration from this band and this album. There’s a surfeit to draw from, be it the jazz-inspired call-and-responses or the crushing chant vocals from frontman Chris Tzompanakis.
And it’s the crushing feeling that draws me back every time. The rather enigmatic title is probably the first thing people will notice about 10.21; Chris has gone on the record saying that it was the date he had broken up with an ex of his. It’s not the dominant theme of the record, but there’s still a certain sense of mourning that underpins every part of this album. The lore is all there; after their considerably chuggier To Forever Embrace the Sun, skycamefalling signed a new deal with Ferret Music. A shakeup in the lineup; the better part of a year in recording studio purgatory. After 10.21, two years of touring hallmarked by a stint on Warped Tour and a final show at Hellfest 2003 before a breakup and the final self-titled EP. I could relitigate everything that a quarter of a century of internet interviews has already written down, but I think there’s something impersonal, almost intrusive about that. It’s above my paygrade, and frankly I’d much rather write about my emotional connection to this album, beat by beat (or at least some of my favorite stops).
One thing to know about skycamefalling is their love of natural imagery—it’s in their name. To that, “Intro” is one understated mood-setter. It’s the first, shortest and simplest of 10.21’s three instrumental tracks, almost disarming with its soft piano motif over the hum of crickets. Coupled with the cover, 10.21 is very much an autumnal record from the onset, each delicate arrangement against the biting cold of the outside. Tzompanakis’ larynx vocals cut through this in “With Paper Wings”, which is still one of my favorite opening tracks of any hardcore record. The song’s first half is written with each semblance of desperation that a heartbreak would entail. Around halfway through, the band almost plays a trick on the listener; softening and receding back into the piano motif after the last climactic breakdown. This is, for me, what makes this band and this record so great: how at home skycamefalling is at the quickest switchups between the heavy and melodic.
The excellently-named “Laura Palmer” is just as obsessed with tension. After a first minute reminiscent of To Forever Embrace the Sun’s gang vocals, almost eastern influences winnow in after some thirty seconds of interlude. It’s just as quick that the song runs towards a melodic variant on one of my favorite tropes in any -core music: a two-step part followed right after by a breakdown. This has to be one of the prettiest breakdowns in any corner of metalcore.
“The Nothing” makes a more brooding turn. Tzompanakis and guitarist Cameron Keym’s vocals are the centerpiece here, each chant backed by some of the most impeccably timed drum fills I’ve ever heard. It’s impressive how little these drums distract from Tzompanakis’ lyricism, which has to be my single favorite part of this record. Here, he wanes from the poetic to the direct, the mournful and the cynical.
So where were you when / one heart became two?
When three words / became more than you could chew
Cause there’s no way we could make amends / when all this comes to its bitter end
Because sewn words / untangle with time
Because sewn words / untangle with time
The back two-third of the album is, as far as I can tell, unfairly under-discussed compared to the first. This is really a shame given how well these songs encapsulate skycamefalling as a whole, maybe most in tracks seven and ten. “Healing Yesteryear” is a strong contender for my personal favorite on10.21, an underrated track on an already underrated record. Tzompanakis’ gravely voice asks, almost begs the listener to:
Just leave me here
Just let me lie here / for a moment
To watch all of my dreams collapse before me
In the heat of the urgency—even the two-step struggles to catch up—I almost forget that he’s screaming, the same as the rest of the record.
“10.21” is doubtlessly the most technically impressive of the album’s three instrumentals. It’s enough to give me a pang of sympathy whenever I skip it on my Liked Songs playlist, another casualty of my need to have the perfect music for the last two minutes of my commute. Don’t let the nine-minute length inspire you to do the same, at least for the first listen, because this is a sprawling nine minute epic of the gentlest drums and the most gracefully picked acoustic guitar of any hardcore song (which is admittedly a small selection).
I’d be remiss to not mention the 2024 rerecording. It took a while for it to grow on me—not least due to my personal disagreement with the band’s plan to make it the only version available for streaming on most platforms—but I think I was too harsh with initial listenings. It’s something of a director’s cut, with edits such as combining “Intro” and “With Paper Wings” into one track and an extended outro to “Laura Palmer”, among others. Every breakdown is heavier and crisper than before, as much a perfect compliment to Tzompanakis’ tormented vocals to contrast each weathered melody. I’ll still cherish the 2000 version’s organic timbre, but this is still a phenomenal reimagining by Will Putney (who continues to be my favorite producer in heavy music).
This is without mentioning how neat of a bracket the reimagining is to skycamefalling’s evolving musicianship. Every performance at each Long Island show or festival across the country is a little different, a little more mature from the last, yet the words remain the same. Out of grief and breakups come reunions and flowers long since due; long enough to bloom new generations of fans. New generations to experience the same heartbreaks, losses and comebacks. New generations lucky enough to exist at the same time as 10.21.
Listen to these skycamefalling-core bands:
- bulletsbetweentongues from Denton, TX
- Holder from Western Massachusetts
- I Promised the World from North Texas
- withpaperwings from Orlando, FL