Neil Young has penned many songs that have been etched into the bedrock of this country's collective memory. One in particular comes to mind at the moment. See if you can't guess it from the lyrics: I want to live / I want to give / I've been a miner / For a Midwest punk band / It's these expressions / I never give / That keep me searching / For a Midwest punk band / In DIY they'll take their stand / For a Midwest punk band / Someday you'll understand / A Midwest punk band / With a heart to gold... Or something like that. Pretty prophetic, right? It's almost like he predicted the arrival of Minneapolis's Heart to Gold all the way back in the '60s. Good on him for keeping that crystal ball nice and polished. I hope the nurses who mind his assisted living situation give him an extra jello tonight. The official history of Heart to Gold (the band) goes back to a couple of demos in recorded and unleashed on the public in 2015, but unofficially, the moniker that the group goes by was hammered into existence years earlier when vocalist Grant Whiteoak and some friends attempted to intervene in an incident of neighborhood animal abuse, only to have the sobriquet pinned on them by the assailant as an insult (Ex. "Heart to F[omitted]ing gold!" the drunken dog-beater allegedly hollered at him). What is a better name for a punk band than something that someone tries to pin on you to break your spirit? In this vein, the band's latest album, Free Help, is brimming with a certain modest but heroic energy. Smelting together earnest lyricism with heartfelt guitar playing, this robust organ of compelling sound and fury pulses with catchy and instantly appreciable fervor. A melodic-hardcore kick-up tussles the nerves on opener "Surrender" where a savage encompassing skirt of pushy chords and blunder-busting beats encircles the listener while Whiteoak's reaching vocals sound like he's attempting to escape by flinging his shouts skyward in a bid to hook a passing cloud and reeling himself to up and away solely by the wind bearing out his throat. "Can't Feel Me" sifts through a crunchy huddle of gungy riffs, building its morale to rattle the walls of its enclosure until they crumble brick-by-brick. The passionate and pounding confrontation "Mostly" sounds like it was recorded while being half shouted in the bathroom mirror in full view of the band's own reflection, with the way it dresses down a full wardrobe of perceived inadequacies and meager stabs at self-realization, and the sliding breakout "Get It Back" feels like it's slamming through a maze of emotions by killdozering its way through the walls headfirst, staggering with hot zeal and purpose towards a central point of clarity. On Free Help, Heart to Gold spins the rough and brittle harvest of their breasts into a potent sonic surplus that is worth its weight in bullion.
