In their time, Planes Mistaken For Stars were considered a second rate act, neither innovators nor pioneers. Nowadays, they still aren’t recognized for changing the rules of the game; in fact, I’m not sure you can qualify them as revolutionary. At the very least, they were a band that clearly marked a transition for certain artists and sounds.
Taking their cues from Rites of Spring, Heroin, and Still Life, PMFS were a frenetic, inspired bunch. Later, they would become a little heavier and straighter, but their first four years — outlined by their self titled mini-album, three EPs, and some comp tracks — are what gave them their place in the nebulous “midwestern emo” scene of the late 90s. Back then, their music was propelled by punk rock energy like they didn’t give a crap, yet had moments of vulnerability and nostalgia, voiced by the hoarse throat of Gared O’Donnell over arpeggiated chords. Take, for example, the song “The Part You Left Out,” which bangs straight ahead until the break, a calming part where the tempo remains steady, yet things get sensible without losing aggression, ready to assault the ears and nerves again. Other songs like “Somewhere in September” take the sentimentally gentler approach similar to when Rites of Spring would slow down to really hang their feelings and poetry books for everyone to see and feel along with them.
Planes Mistaken For Stars might not have had a large cult following or mainstream recognition, but they inadvertently pioneered a method of expression put to wider use by bands like Thursday, Thrice and, most recently, Touché Amoré and Pianos Become the Teeth. They plainly rocked and screamed their throats raw with powerful feelings that still resonate on the grooves of their records and those by their descendants.