REVIEW: Crash of Rhinos - Logbook
Somehow we're still here
38:38 // May 22, 2026 // 12:01
It feels beyond improbable that Logbook exists. This isn’t only because Crash of Rhinos have gone thirteen years since their last release, but also because the band always felt like a magical flash in the pan, one of the brightest comets in the firmament of emo revival streaking across the sky and then gone in a blaze of glory, whatever grandiose analogy you prefer. The band’s lineup has been involved in other worthy projects both before and after their tenure as Crash of Rhinos, but that one highly-inspired stretch left an impression.
While Crash of Rhinos might not be a household name even among dedicated genre fans, they’re a cult favorite if there ever was one. As a little band that could, they stand apart in a multitude of ways - their Derby, England origins are unusual, marking them as standard-bearers of “Midlands emo” (see what I did there?) in contrast to an American-dominated scene - but their sonic formulations and the underlying spirit of their music always felt utterly distinctive as well. In their original run, debut Distal was more ebullient and follow-up Knots was more reflective in tone, but both featured raucous punk energy, sprawling song structures, and gruff gang vocals which contrasted sharply with the wimpier stylings in vogue elsewhere. Their approach was instantly recognizable for those in the know, and their ability to twist weary malaise into chaotic fist-raising anthems was astounding - the mood was more early Japandroids than Empire! Empire! (I was a Lonely Estate). All that’s to say that Crash of Rhinos were a charming band which I’d thought were gone for good, meriting a worthy footnote in the annals of emo history and a reliable revisit from time to time for my own listening pleasure.
But, wonder of wonders, the band’s back together, and we have a third Crash of Rhinos LP to discuss. As a return, Logbook is far from flashy, although this band was always more about passion and a raw sense of musicality than anything particularly refined. The immediate takeaway is that the band hasn’t lost a step - this is Crash of Rhinos delivering a Crash of Rhinos album like a thirteen year gap hasn’t happened at all, even if the vibe feels a little more well-seasoned (we’ll get to that). It seems unlikely Logbook will be many fans’ favorite album from the band, given its lack of massive standout moments or career highlight tracks, but it’s a consistently strong record which delivers on the band’s core sound without real flaws. Indeed, all seven cuts here are rock-solid additions to the still-miniscule Crash of Rhinos catalog.
The biggest factor which sets Logbook apart from the band’s earlier works is simply Father Time. The musicians still clearly have their fire, which bursts forth in the feisty energy of the up-tempo stretches and the off-key vigorous roaring of the vocals, but the flames are burning a little lower in the grate, as befits a now middle-aged group still feistily defiant in the face of an increasingly dystopian global landscape. In that context, moments like those lines in “Recurring” - “the only choice was burst and fade, or come back around” - and the hooky repetition of “theeeeeeeeeese daaaaaaaays” in “Exercise in Memory” hit that much harder - we may be long past the jubilant aimlessness of the gloriously naive youth which imbued Crash of Rhinos’ original era, but their special brand of emo revival still clicks marvelously.
8.0/10