EP Review: Parallel Acceptance

Kiwi-born songwriter and multi-instrumentalist Justin Bell, the creative force behind Beyond Coda, is currently based in Lorne, New South Wales. As a Kiwi, he still taps into themes that we can all relate to — loss, mental health, self-reflection, and negotiating relationships. Over the years, he has collaborated with some big industry names like Jeff Blue (Linkin Park, Macy Gray), Charlie Young (Kelly Clarkson, The Naked & Famous), and Gareth Hudson. Before Beyond Coda, he experimented across genres under the moniker Pestoric, producing pop (Bell City – 2022 ), punk (Deniable Plausibility – 2021), instrumental piano (Space End Time – 2022). Beyond Coda is the name he now uses for material that comes out of his current home studio.

Accordingly, he draws inspiration from a varied range of sources, and you can hear that coming through on this new EP with hints of Pink Floyd, Dire Straits and all manner of 70’s and 80’s rock heroes jostling for position in your headset. Lyrically, Bell, says, he looks to the poignancy and visceral lyrical writing of Neil and Tim Finn. And that may be true. But to me, I think he’s reached for a wider, richer palate, drawing in ideas from all over the rock/pop spectrum.

The arrangements in Parallel Acceptance are ambitious, with several kitchen sinks thrown in to achieve the full effect. Case in point is the opener, Terrestrials, a soaring anthem loaded with acoustic and electric guitars, strings and orchestrations, sweeping weather-wind effects, and a battery of female backing vocalists to offset Bell’s striking gravelly, rasping ‘rock-god’ delivery. The only thing missing was a 50-piece orchestra and choir. It’s also on this track that Natasha Rusterholz & Sophie Annesley clearly make their presence felt as they do all over this collection. Their individual and collective vocal parts are as pivotal to these tracks as Bell’s own singing and playing.

With Terrestrials Bell approaches his songwriting with a degree of darkness and intensity that fans of Hoobastank (The Reason), Lifehouse, 3 Doors down, or Staind may recognise. Whatever, these words carry a weighty message: ‘There’s something in this room / Lost soldiers passing through / Their shadows break in two and one of them is you, one of them is you … I drag my courage through the door, fumbling around, for the antidote / One last act upon the stage / A final melody, you will never play’.

Heavy, indeed. For me, Terrestrials seems like a battle theme – with love and trust on the front lines. It’s a relationship breaking down, struggling to mend, grasping at hope as the ghosts move through the rooms of memory. When I asked Bell about his drivers, he was a bit ambiguous, saying while that their specific stories behind each song, “I have tried to write them in a way that allows each listener to form their own conclusions and mould them to their own experiences. Overall, the themes I touch on,” he continues “include, loss, depression/mental health, chronic pain, self- reflection, relationships and unintentionally hurting those you care about.” Phew, that’s a lot of ground to cover.

Silent Canvas is a full force power ballad opening with guitars and cellos but eventually swells again into a maelstrom of energy and fever. Again, powerful lines. Whilst open to interpretation, they hit home with force: ‘There’s a throne on the dark side of peace with 8 billion crowns, craving devotion and means / Time stutters, in a permanent dance between vital signs and clever minds’. I wonder if these ‘crowns’ represent the fall of ego in the face of rejection or lost humility?

To my ears Porcelain sounds the most radio friendly. And it has a great hook holding the fabric of the song together. It starts with delicate piano and guitar lines and then breaks into a country/folk stomp and strum. Harmonies from Sophie Annesley, Angela Rose & Gareth Hudson work really well on the chorus and are accented by some intermittent cello and strings, even a hint of a Hammond in the mix. It’s a more uplifting listen. I might be wrong but this one reads like a commentary on the fragile state of success, life and luck. How easily it can blow over one way or the other – literally and figuratively: ‘Petal in the wind Will you ever flower again? / Or will you tumble through the breeze, falling? Sundered little thing (I can’t hear you) / Or the way you used to sing Bringing silence to its knees, perfectly).

In comparison, Silver Walls is good old 80’s styled rock anthem, guitars blazing with more clever phrases, this time drawing on communication and technology glitches as its primary theme: ‘Your signal’s buried in the distance, the shadows play, their tricks on me / The static turns into a whisper, don’t fall asleep inside this dream’.

The last track Real Time surprised me because I wasn’t prepared to be so willingly dragged in to its emotional vortex. It’s a modern-day gospel power ballad. But this one really cuts through. Something familiar, something unidentified pulls you in and you can’t help singing along. ‘The light folds, so slowly / In real-time, you close your eyes / Analyse, this flickering moment / And feel your mind, start to slide / Can’t we just let it fade away?’

Gareth Hudson does a great job mixing this collection. Although to be fair, with work this ambitious it would really take a full-sized professional studio, with an orchestra, choir and band to do them total justice.

Parallel Acceptance hits you right in the heart—it’s the kind of album you can totally get lost in. Perfect for shaking off those lingering uncertainties, that sense of being adrift, and all the regrets, whilst somehow making you feel oddly comforted by the shared weight of feeling disconnected. You are seen and not alone.

These songs are intimidating in their ambition and powerful. The lyrics are smart, intense, sometimes intimate, very poetic. As a musician and songwriter, Bell shines through. Don’t be surprised if a major label comes calling for their next big top forty hit. No? Well, they damn well should!