Bilt-more to last

Brendan Leonard, in a recent phone interview, described the formation of the Biltmores as the joining of "Four people from different parts of the country. Two seniors, a junior, and a 30-year-old expecting a baby. We mostly wanted something for posterity. . . kind of an auditory yearbook." At some point, however, the recording of Same Story, Same Ending became more than just a pretty gravestone for the band that had carved its name into Providence College last year by playing uncompromisingly original music.

Same Story, Same Ending is the Biltmores' debut album. The band consists of Danny Baxter '06 on guitar and vocals; his older brother George Baxter (the aforementioned father of one) on bass; Jon Pitts '06 on guitar; and Brendan Leonard '07 on drums. New to the recording process, the group decided to hire a knowledgeable producer, a move that turned out to be pivotal. "We needed a drill sergeant," Leonard said, "someone who did this hundreds of times." Leonard remembered Mike Lust, whom he had met years before. Lust has worked with, among others, the great Chicago band Wilco. He was a perfect fit, guiding the band through the tough business of recording and being "brutally frank and upfront."

With Lust's direction, the band gained confidence and went from, as Leonard admits, just hoping not to sound "like idiots" to crafting a record that is simultaneously moving and punishing, driving and open, in the tradition of independent American rock bands like the Pixies, Modest Mouse, and Wilco.

Same Story, Same Ending is not perfect, but it makes a statement, and apparently the band is prepared to back that statement. The group has moved in together in a house near Pawtucket (except for George, of course) with a basement practice space. It has shows lined up, including a big one at Harper's Ferry and a big one on campus this Saturday at McPhail's with Capital Hill, Mammoth Marge, and another PC alumni band, The Ringer Soundtrack. In the new space, the band has already written five new songs, and, according to Leonard, plan on debuting two or three on Saturday.

Same Story, Same Ending has the attitude of four people with something to prove. Leonard describes it as "everybody finding their way together." If it's "finding their way," they do so with equal parts growling aggressiveness and stargazing intensity. They seem to have learned their wide-open-American-Interstate-on-a-cloudless-day sound from the Pixies and from Modest Mouse but are not predictable.

"Weight of the World" is a great example. The song begins expansive but claims to be claustrophobic. The sound of the intro would not be out of place on one of those truck commercials set out on the open road, complete with Pitts channeling Joey Santiago, but Baxter sings in a pleading voice, repeating ritualistically, "I feel the weight of the world/Crashing down on me."

Baxter's supplication turns to a snarl in the chorus, and we discover, over crashing chords and pummeling rhythms, that the speaker is a robot, sinisterly compelled to "violate the first law of robotics/and bring harm to human beings," which seems silly until Baxter repeats, "Even though I don't want to." Suddenly the song becomes absurdly terrifying while sonorously resplendent, thwarting your expectations and daring you not to listen to it over and over again-a dare which I lost.

The album challenges right from the start. The first track, "Buried Underground," begins in that same pleading tone, building slowly in sweet revere and deep thought. Baxter uses the time-honored metaphor of driving and reminiscing, a favorite of American songwriters such as Bruce Springsteen and Eddie Vedder.

Suddenly, though, the tone changes to a bark, as Baxter yells defiantly, "I don't know where I'm/Supposed to go/but I'm driving too fast/I think that I'm gonna crash," over sparse guitar and sliding bass. The song continues to change in epic fashion. It is real the way you think of mountains and roads as real.

Perhaps the two most accessible songs are the second track, "Emily Sleeps," and the final track, "Pigeonhole Blacktop." The former is a '90s alt-rock inspired ditty full of colorful guitars, driving bass, and drums that alternate from jangley tambourine to pounding toms. The latter is a thoughtful ballad beginning on mandolin, fiddle, and banjo, and ending with a blues-rock romp blasting driving drums and harmonica.

The middle of the album drags a little, especially with the overly sentimental "Glowstick" and the seemingly half-finished "Luna." The band, however, saves a blues flavored, heavy, nasty trick up its sleeve for the second to last spot. "Elevator" begins with a heavy riff, in which the band cuts out for lazy guitar riffs flawlessly behind the beat, and then continues in punishing fashion like something off Zeppelin III.

Baxter warns on "Elevator" that "You can't take the elevator/to get up there. /You've got to use your feet, /get them underneath you/and take the stairs." It's a great metaphor for what lays ahead for the Biltmores.

The band has the tools to make a living selling discs like this one. Danny Baxter's going to have to learn to protect his voice and make it thicker and richer, and the band is going to have to continue to push the boundaries in songwriting and sounds. It will also have to wear its influences less obviously. It has proven, though, that it has the attitude and the talent to challenge audiences for years to come. As Baxter sings on "Pigeonhole Blacktop:" "The road is up to you."

GRADE: B

Buy? Yes (and not just to support local music)

Downloads: www.myspace.com/thebiltmores

Live: Saturday at McPhail's