Not one to invest too much in astrological thought, I am nonetheless proud of my particular zodiac designation: Libra. The equalized scales represent what I perceive to be a fundamental truth in life: the need for balance. It is with this mindset that I have been able to powerfully embrace the work of Good Riddance. For the past six years, they have consistently struck an effective balance between melodic songwriting on the one hand and raw hardcore intensity on the other, a talent I feel was most fully realized with last year's Ballads From the Revolution. Alas, with Operation Phoenix the scale has tipped in favor of the latter, a change which dampens the overall effect while still providing potent results.

Throughout their career, Good Riddance have attempted to separate themselves from their predestined fate. When they first appeared on Fat Wreck, they were immediately aligned with post- pubescent geared pop- punk bands with a penchant for scatological humor-- that brand of rockers who, for good reason, are rarely taken seriously. Good Riddance have much in common with label- mates, Propagandhi, in their attempts to rise above the sludge of vacuous thought demonstrated by so many of their contemporaries, but whereas Propagandhi has accomplished this through more militant means, Good Riddance's method seems to be incorporating hardcore influences into their music.

A close relationship with the likes of Sick of It All, Ensign, and Ignite have paved the way for Operation Phoenix. One of the most observable differences in this album compared to the band's back catalog is the significantly darker perspective offered by the lyrics. This strain was always apparent in previous work, but in the past these ruminations were balanced by other viewpoints (nostalgic, bittersweet, even downright uplifting). Gaze upon the harrowing, partially- decomposed visage portrayed on the album's back cover and consider some song titles: "Shadows of Defeat," "Heresy, Hypocrisy, and Revenge," "Shit- Talking Capitalists," and "Yesterday Died, Tomorrow Won't Be Born."

The accompanying music is equally crushing. Russ Rankins pushes his vocal muscles to the maximum for nearly the entire album; his high- range, take- no- prisoners attack is reminiscent of By the Grace of God's Rob Pennington. Many of the musical intricacies which occasionally peppered previous works have been shelved for the sake of a straight- forward, visceral assault. The attack is often impressive, but ultimately leaves one feeling exhausted.

Music is a reflection of the times, and as such, shouldn't be condemned on the basis of a recurring emotion or feeling-– a casual consideration of world happenings provides insight into why the band is angered and lashing out. However, as suggested in "Blueliner," music is therapy, and through it, inner turmoil and conflict can be resolved. Hopefully, Good Riddance will find salvation in their music so that their next offering might provide the all- embracing sense of balance we've learned to expect from them.

-Kevin Ruggeri