
After a long stretch of silence, Wayside has returned from the shadows with Dusk to Dawn, a gritty, nostalgic, and at times surprisingly vulnerable rock album. Reuniting after a two-decade journey filled with detours and reunion gigs, the Minneapolis alt-rock band that once earned a spot on the 2002 Warped Tour now sounds like they’ve lived through every note they play. This isn’t a band trying to recreate the past, it’s one confronting it.
The album opens with Ashes, a track that kicks down the door with distorted guitars and a deep, brooding vocal. It’s loud, rough around the edges, and instantly addictive. There’s a moment where the vocals ride right over a guitar solo, layering intensity on intensity. You know immediately you’re in for something unfiltered.
The Gift leans into 2000s emo territory. The vocals wobble slightly at the start, but the rawness feels authentic. There’s a surprising key change midway that opens the song up, while layered vocal lines like “It goes on and on and on and on” wrap around each other to build momentum. It’s nostalgic without being stuck.
On Brand New Ride, the band dives into a track about personal transformation. There’s a near-scream in the vocals that gives the song its teeth, while the guitar solo echoes the swagger of 70s rock. The fade out is a thoughtful touch that feels like the end of a long drive toward something new.
Then comes God Size Hole, a standout for its slower, moodier approach. The guitar has a liquid smoothness and the vocals finally get space to breathe. It’s here the band sounds most deliberate, with a build-up that shows restraint and payoff. There’s a hint of Red Hot Chili Peppers in the vibe, but it’s still distinctly their own.
Beyond the Pale pulls you back into darker territory. With a mischievous beat and a voice that sounds like it’s hiding secrets, it’s one of the more cinematic tracks on the record. Synthia follows with a synth-based opening that breaks from the album’s usual guitar-first approach. It’s steady and hypnotic, a welcome gear shift.
Avoidant throws it back to emo again, with a vocal that cracks and strains in just the right way. It’s imperfect but works because of it. Waterfall is a hook-laden earworm. The post-chorus guitar feels like an emotional flood and fits the title’s metaphor like a glove.
On Way out West, the band paints with imagery, deserts, moons, and solitude. It’s a journey song, both physical and emotional. Then Blackout rolls in with a grungier, sludgier sound that’s darker and heavier. It lingers a bit too long, but still manages to hold your attention through sheer weight.
Out Here and Clouds explore themes of departure and distance. The guitars are repetitive but intentional, and there’s a unique solo in Out Here that breaks the mold. Clouds leans almost country in the intro before settling back into a rock groove, marking a moment of quiet heartbreak in the middle of the storm.
The closing stretch of the album delivers some of its most powerful moments. Dead End is a slow-burning epic, a what-if 2000s emo had grown older and angrier. The guitar solo rips and refuses to apologize. Mist finishes the album with a heavy bass line and a wah-drenched guitar, building and collapsing in waves until it fades out like the night giving way to morning.
Throughout Dusk to Dawn, Wayside never shies away from repetition. Lines are echoed, refrains are stretched, and motifs come back like memories you can’t quite shake. It works. These songs aren’t just tracks, they’re chapters in a long, winding story of a band finding its way again.
SCORE/Excellent – The album cover is striking without being overdone, a fitting visual for an album that is both familiar and newly sharpened. This is not a perfect record, but that’s what makes it land so hard. It’s messy, heartfelt, and true to its name; Dusk to Dawn isn’t just about the music; it’s about the long night in between.
[We rank singles, EPs, and albums on a scale of Poor, Mediocre, Good, Excellent, and Outstanding]
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