Album Notes

Hialeah: “When You’re Standing” (Blackbox Records) Few bands these days can pique my interest; it’s a rare thing for me to be blown away by new music since so much is derivative that one has to judge a lot of this stuff by different, diluted standards other than originality. OK, Hialeah are not the only ones to sound like this. What they did, though, is to whip the senses into a frenzy of cool receptivity. Hialeah fits into this interesting box – the better file, I guess you could call it. I was pleased by the deconstructed power pop, the cerebral, emotive musings. The music really gets a kick from the thundering bass and the pulsing, throbbing beats of the drums; they both anchor the noodling, jangle of the guitar and the understated plaintive angst of the vocals. Hailing from the San Diego area, down in the mellow sunshine of So-Cal, Hialeah has a similar vibe to other area bands like The Nervous Return or Dehra Dun. A concise power-trio, Hialeah consists of Mario Quintero playing guitar and singing, Justin Jay on drums and Mike Pereira on bass and vocals. They are a tight outfit, the CD is well-produced and the rhythm section – bass & drums – is turned up quite high in order to really add a synthesisic addition to all the songs on “When You’re Standing”. With songs like “Fault Line”, “Turn it Down” or the closer, “Forevermore”, these guys are taking emo-core to a new subtlety, with blissful results. From: http://reviewermag.livejournal.com/2007/04/03/

"Fucking Americans. Leave it to us to mess up a word like 'emotional.' The word was reduced to its dirty little abbreviation a few years back to describe alternative music that was sung with such raw, unchecked feeling that it could literally evoke emotions from the emotionless. And in a country where we medicate our restless youth, that's a feat worty of its own title. Thus, 'emo.' Of course, emo has since come to be known for leaky faucet types who sing campfire sing-alongs and sell records with their cuddly tenderness alone. But Hialeah brings emo back to the form that was so cool it required its own title. Their paranoid guitars and skuzzy bass lines may not get them laid by women who want to listen to their problems and stroke their trembling, tattooed arms, but the raw vocals among the fury will stir a dead part of you. Like a harder version of Rival Schools or Jawbreaker having a particularly angry moment." -Melissa Edwards, San Diego City Beat