The band has played a thousand-some-odd shows in the past half-decade across the States and Europe, as well as behind venues, after-hours, aside dumpsters till all requests have been met but it is possible that this will be your first introduction. Poised to release their third full-length record, Frontier Ruckus' Eternity of Dimming is a 20-song double-album, roughly an hour-and-a-half in duration and over 5,500 words in lyrical length. A helluva time to enter their world, but you re invited even if you've not previously wrapped yourself in the continents of The Orion Songbook (2008) or Deadmalls and Nightfalls (2010). Welcome to the expansive language of songwriter Matthew Milia. Welcome to a raw and unharnessed musicality. Welcome to the snowy television sets and plastic teenage trophies of suburban Detroit. Eternity of Dimming, the closing chapter of their suburban memory landscape series, is the embodiment of real things, real objects a realness full of sad gladness and expiration dates. A catalogue so thorough in its literary scope of brutally tender pathos a candid opening-up of a bottomless domestic junk-drawer, without omission or censor. Ignoring the cliched trappings of antiqued rural fetish that seem to make tired the modern folk movement, and the urban love-fest which holds the majority of indie-culture enwrapt, Frontier Ruckus instead celebrates and insulates itself within a world that is obsessively suburban childhoods realistic and recent enough to remain vividly smoldering with intense memory and graphic personal mythology. The world of oversized 90s obsolescence, pinning down weighty love and familial weirdness elephantine copy machines in the home offices of the briefly affluent parents of grade-school friends, VHS cassettes rotting sun-bleached on early bedroom shelves, tragic birthday parties, aggressive soccer coaches, grandmothers' oxygen tanks and daytime-TV-time crosswords, porn stashes found behind Taco Bells. Eternity of Dimming is not of the world that now contains paper-thin computers and full-length records clocking in at 25 minutes. This is the gorgeous and inevitable disintegration of all that we once knew ourselves by, blurring into the graininess of gradual dusk. This is the Eternity of Dimming.
The songs evoke not just the shadow-slatted memories of a still-recent adolescence but also the ineffable sadness and beauty of time s effect on a place. --Paste Magazine - Best of What's Next
Their songs are full of rich, rural details: frozen lakes, swaying trees, highway lights glowing in the deep night. --Rolling Stone
(Frontier Ruckus) brings a contemporary angle to its music, eschewing traditional tales of trains, whiskey and rambling for reflections on suburbia, family and life on the edge of the interstate. --National Public Radio