This review is part of a series looking back at significant albums on their anniversaries. Through the benefit of hindsight we will be viewing the album not just as it was released, but how it stands the test of time, as well as its place in the band’s discography and the genre in general.
Polyvinyl Records – 7 April 1998
“You know this painted scene could never leave me”
Like most non-local acts of the mid-to-late 90s I discovered Braid on a comp. I can not tell you the comp, I can not tell you the year, I can’t even tell you the song I first heard, but I can tell you it piqued my interest enough that when I saw Frame and Canvas on an endcap at the now-defunct Vintage Vinyl record store I was happy to throw down my a good chunk of my measly income.
The album became an immediate and important part of the soundtrack to my life at the time. In the 25 years since its release, I’ve found that’s not an uncommon origin story for how people discover and appreciate this record. If you’re a fan of the second-wave of emo, you know this record and to know this record is to love it.
Frame and Canvas bridged a gap between the early-emo influencers such as Rites of Spring or Embrace and the later evolution of emo into the more poppy sound it is currently associated with. Playing the role of evolutionary link, Braid cultivated a scene not-quite-ready to take over airwaves and too far removed from its more hardcore roots. The album name has proved itself perfect with each passing year and each newly-influenced act, laying out the Frame and Canvas upon which Modern Baseball, Touche Amore and Tigers Jaw have provided a fresh coat.
Frame and Canvas is always on a top-whatever number list of classic emo records, and I’ll always make the argument that it belongs in the top 5. The band’s growth between the ambitious but mediocre debut album Frankie Welfare Boy, Age 5 (1995) to Frame and Canvas (1998) was immense, impressive and whatever other superlative you want to tag onto it. Intentional or not, the band matured into legends and in doing so, created the road map to emo-core and the Midwest sound.
It was relatable, it was personal and it was a fucking blast. The duality in vocals created internal and external tensions throughout each of the 12 tracks, a push and pull creating palpable anxiety and restlessness that carried over into the instrumentation. Frame and Canvas is not simply an important cog in the Midwest-emo machine, it is one of the keystones upon which the whole community is built. Countless albums stand tall against their contemporaries but the luster fades as the years pass, but Frame and Canvas hasn’t lost any of its shimmer and continues to paint the emo landscape in a swirl of hues that refuse to fade.
Bad Dad (occasionally called Ed) has been on the periphery of the punk and punk-adjacent scene for over twenty years. While many contributors to this site have musical experience and talent, Ed’s musical claim to fame comes from his time in arguably the most punk rock Blockbuster Video district in NJ where he worked alongside members of Blanks 77, Best Hit TV and Brian Fallon. He is more than just an awful father to his 2 daughters, he is also a dreadful husband, a subpar writer, a terrible dresser and has a severe deficiency in all things talent… but hey, at least he’s self-aware, amirite?
Check out the pathetic attempts at photography on his insta at https://www.instagram.com/bad_dad_photography/
