Hostage Calm confront the darker realities of a modern America as a means of survival. In 2010, the critically acclaimed Connecticut band funneled their heroes’ protest energy into an optimistic hybrid of punk, pop and new wave, only to see rising hopes filtered out through the uncertainty of the Great Recession on 2012’s bruised Heartland rocker Please Remain Calm. Die on Stage celebrates the subsequent post–millennial fatalism permeating today’s youth culture with timeless grandeur. It’s not a political statement as so much it is an honest portrait of growing up in America, embracing all that is fleeting while clutching what semblance of decaying dreams remain for a generation future endeavored.

The band entered Pennsylvania's Studio 4 space to produce their fourth full–length alongside the venerable Will Yip (Balance and Composure, Title Fight), choosing the recording auteur for his careful ear in magnifying strengths for a widescreen audience. Hostage Calm’s traditional foundation as a five–piece transcends past influences and furthers their own identity with Glockenspiel, pianos, organs and bells conjoined into their arrangements, creating a big, enchanting rock album stacked with infectious new classics.

At Die On Stage’s core are Hostage Calm’s endlessly evolving creativity placated against a fully engulfed existential crisis .The record is fighting for its life and for the love that has survived the emotional wreckage with lead singer Chris Martin’s romantic punk poetry battling dark, unforeseen interpersonal conflict and a loss of identity. This is a public diary of songs that both celebrates and vilifies those moments, and those feelings of emotional turmoil toppled onto Hostage Calm's aim to create a new rock standard are what dig out a legacy.

“I’ve said before that ‘more than being remembered, I’d rather be worth remembering.’ I think this album strives to find that which is worth our precious memory,” says Martin. “It is in fact a memorial, a monument to the tumult and disenfranchisement that has become the centerpiece of American childhood. Not to spite it, or preach to it, but to embrace the sheer enormity of it for the sake of our own reveling.