Review: Apostle of Hustle- National Anthem of Nowhere

There is a breed of songs that make me feel a certain way. It feels like my heart is being caressed, and I am dizzy and ecstatic by the intrusion of sound into something otherwise heavily protected by my lungs and ribcage. It is like that feeling I get before I pass out. But it is marked by the onset of pleasure instead of pain.
The waves vibrate throughout my cochlea, and the chemicals released at the acme of its helica stimulate that part of my brain that has the postal code: HEAVEN.
Like all highs, the feeling is but fleeting. I soon tire of the song, that I so easily fell into love, playing in loop. I would have to take a break from it.
For now, National Anthem by Apostle of Hustle is steadily pressing the buttons of my 'happy' cortex.
Oh those trumpets that still try their darndest to keep spirits high! But the bass and drums won't lie. They are pragmatic, they are constant and keep us from steering away too far. That easy riff, the glue that shifts the weight of its thickness to keep everything together. It is the riff of deception, letting you hear what you think you want, then pushing you away when you come to close.
And Andrew Whiteman's voice, that soft drone of a man singing between consciousness and higher grounds. His voice is like the waters of the Dead Sea, silky and salty, and lingering. He begins, 'we know words float through her veins, her sexual use of pain. as she sends her sailors in. well, they don't come back, and they don't give in.'

But suddenly he breaks free from entrancement, and yells desperately post-hard riff, 'oh the sea I cannot save! from across the waves! with a knife!' He then resigns and sadly croons, 'Sleep comes This can’t last long Darling, watch the sunrise Sleep comes This can’t last long
Darling, watch the sunrise'


Then the riff takes it away. Takes away the regret, tells us that it is sad, but there is nothing wrong with that.

And repeat. And repeat. And repeat.

Apostle of Hustle- National Anthem of Nowhere