Jonah Matranga as onelinedrawing has culled his influences (both musical and emotional) and his boundless emotive energy into his latest effort, The Volunteers like very few modern punk acts (most of which have blood-sucked the “emo” genre into a synonym for power-punk) can. Matranga has followed the guidelines of groups like Pedro the Lion and Joan of Arc, never compromising his raw guts for poppy, radio-friendly hooks, but sometimes the base energy just so happens to be the catchiest thing you’ve ever heard.
Matranga made a name for himself in the definitive “proto-emo” group Far, an inspired combination of breakneck pacing and crackling, naked lyrics. The group was awe-inspiring but only had a few limited releases and never saw the fan base it deserved. When Far broke up in 1998, Matranga moved on into a few awkward live groups until his solo home recordings built up enough buzz (mainly via Internet) to warrant his own band, onelinedrawing.
Matranga began onelinedrawing with a tight connection to his fans, relying entirely on message boards to book gigs and taking advise from every e-mail he got. The Volunteers builds upon this intimacy. Matranga utilizes the fluidity of laptop recording and spotlights guest musicians and vocalists, all of whom are family members or good friends (including Rival School’s guitarist Ian Love).
The album’s first track, “Over It,” is a powerful blast of acoustic energy and electric self-evaluation. The chorus/plea of “Help me get over it” builds to a monstrous crescendo when Matranga layers the vocals of four generations of family members singing over his own voice. He then ups the ante by adding the entire crowd’s chants from shows in Connecticut, New Jersey and New York. The adoration (going both ways, from musician to listener and back) is impossible to miss.
The next track, “A Ghost,” finds Matranga languid and restless with inability. His ignored presence calls out in desperation, in a give-up combustion as he sings, “Give me pale skin, pale eyes / Soft flow, milky white / See through me in the light / Because of course a ghost cannot affect this world.” Later in the song, distorted vocals blend Matranga deeper into a see-thru existence, where even his voice becomes indistinguishable from its surroundings. Both “A Ghost” and the following track, the stand-out off-kilter lilting of “Superhero,” find solace in bare-bones acoustic arrangements accented by bass and momentary percussion, especially as Matranga croons “Love will find a way” repeatedly throughout “Superhero.”
“We Had a Deal” comes closest to Far’s sonic and soaring melodic fixtures. The chorus seems to be lifted by hope of love to come as the track laments over a misunderstanding and cynical outside world. Matranga sings, “I had a dream with heaven but it fell through / I had a dream or seven, but now I’m not sure which one came true / We had a deal, but now I’m not sure,” as he contemplates reality until he “Dream(s) of someone that won’t go.”
The sexually gleeful romp of “Oh, Boys” plays off as the least serious song on the album, and one of the most positively catchy. Throbbing waves of just-audible synths and piano back Matranga as he relates his relationship and car problems to one in the same, “All these boys trying to tell me they’re so good / They say they’ll fix up my carburetor, yeah, they’ll check under the hood / But they can’t even get it to start up, much less move.”
“Livin’ Small” is an affront against the onslaught of poseur-punk plebeians that Matranga helped to create. He has important advise for every kid with a faux-hawk and an overwritten, three-chord confessional: “We know it’s not really all about the Benjamins / Yeah, but business is a lot like love, and business is a lot like friendship, isn’t it? / Yeah, well, either way, if you just go out looking for what’s rich and hot / You’ll end up with a piece of shit.”
The ambient instrumental “Portland _” and the slow-strumming “As Much To Myself As To You” conclude The Volunteers nicely, and the entire album plays like a cycle of depression overcome by hope. Matranga brings intimacy and honesty to the forefront of onelinedrawing’s recordings with some unique production and his disarmingly ferocious approach to songwriting.

Grade: A/B