Anyone who’s spoken to me about music for longer than five minutes has no doubt heard me sing the praises of the Protomen. I’ve had more than a few friends shake their heads at me for my taste in music - namely, my unwavering belief in rock and roll. Not alternative, or industrial, or nu metal, or whatever silly new genres the recording industry keeps inventing to foist new depths of mediocrity upon an unsuspecting populace held captive by the sickly dead thump of two-finger power chords. Rock and fucking roll.

Rock and roll is a living thing to me. It takes many forms - from The Who to Blue Oyster Cult to Wishbone Ash to Queen - but it is alive and powerful. Rock and roll is the sound of a soul that cannot be stopped. It is the sound of a life worth fighting for, tooth and nail. It is the sound of fire.

And the ten members of the Protomen carry that torch as though they had lit it themselves.

The arc of the band’s two concept albums - entitled Act I and Act II - is based loosely on Capcom’s Mega Man games. Even though the games are nearly devoid of story, the Protomen expanded what little there was into a sweeping, Orwellian rock opera. But ultimately, the videogame connection is secondary to the albums themselves; listening to the Protomen because you like Mega Man is like watching The Wire because you like cop shows. You’re missing the whole point (Your mileage may vary on that analogy, depending on whether you’ve seen the novel-masquerading-as-a-TV-show that is The Wire).

The music of the Protomen is two Very Important Things:

1. It is real, honest-to-Townshend rock and roll.

2. It genuinely makes an effort to speak.

I’ll leave it to the warriors themselves to prove it to you at the bottom of this post. It’s enough to say that their sound is almost exactly what the inside of my head has sounded like all my life. Pretty badass coincidence, says I.

I had the pleasure of seeing them perform in Winter Park back in April. Adorned in silver face paint and performing under pseudonyms like Panther, Gunslinger, Gambler and K.I.L.R.O.Y., they blew the roof off a local pub with an electric wall of sound that left naught but ringing ears and burning souls in its wake.

They turned out to be really cool cats as well, chilling out for several hours at a local comics joint, enthusiastically talking shop and waxing sentimental about the real meaning of rock. My Yamaha SLG100S now proudly bears all of their signatures (thanks so much guys, if you’re reading this!). It’s always nice to find that artists you admire are also totally rad people.

Of course, none of my effusive rambling will actually tell you what the Protomen sound like, so I’ll let them speak for themselves. This is “The Will of One,” an impassioned soliloquy from a fighting machine, disobeying his creator’s instructions to give up on the complacent citizens of a nightmare city and instead venturing forth to avenge his fallen brother.