Austrian Death Machine - Jingle All the Way (2011)

It's a digital single, with an extremely limited physical release with bonus track in tow. If we're lucky, proceeds from this might end up in some charity, for those suffering the handicaps that the creator of Austrian Death Machine also seems to harbor. It dirties me just to think a thought like that, but what I'm getting at is thinly veiled code for: this completely sucks. Granted, Tim Lambesis probably did not intend for this to ever be taken seriously, but the joke has now grown tired and old to the point where lichen has grown upon it, and its delivery was never very amusing in the first place: lift samples from Arnold Schwarzenegger films, apply them to badly written metalcore breakdowns and wholly forgettable modern 'thrash' riffs, awful growl vocals and profit off anyone whose standards are so absent that they'd actually get a chuckle out of it.

As you can no doubt tell, I was not a fan of either Total or Double Brutal, the Austrian Death Machine full-lengths to this point, some of the tritest gimmickry and unfunny nonsense I've come across in the past few years. Unfortunately, what I'm hearing on this holiday single is even worse than those efforts, 100% void of ideas or even compelling derivations. Factory produced, plastic poseur manure which can't even evince laughter in any ironic sense. This isn't so bad that it's somehow miraculously fun or entertaining, it's just bad. "I'm Not a Pervert" switches off from bad, brickhouse Pantera groove chugging and Anselmo vocals to vapid growling and groove breakdowns for the LCD, and about the only thing that I can say is not completely detritus would be the leads, which might have deserved placement in a far better song. "It's Turbo Time" is hardly any better, with almost a NYHC undercurrent to the angry Sick of It All vocals and the faster paced crossover/thrashing with such dull, repetitive and pedestrian notation that I might have nightmares just thinking of it...

And then, that breakdown with the shouts? Forget about it, what a terrible lack of creativity. A faster, but more methodic lead is shoved in here at the last minute which isn't even as compelling as the other one. The final track, "Who Told You You Could Eat My cookies?" is slower paced, functioning on a foundation of effortless asshat grooves with spikes of arpeggio leads above them, but even if it's mildly less shit than the other tracks, it's still fertilizer. None of the mock Arnold samples anywhere here are funny anymore. In fact, I fail to see why I should even be laughing at 80s action hero films when it's not like I can head down to the theater these days and see any that are really any better. We might have CGI and 3D now, folks, but most of the shit still sucks, and even worse, because no one seems to have learned from their 'mistakes', they've just shifted over to making new ones. Anyway, what's left to say? If you enjoy sterile, generic metalcore breakdowns and Vulgar Display of Power thrash bursts that Lambesis himself probably forgot three minutes after recording them, eat your heart out: You are terrible. THIS is terrible. Just connect the dots.

Verdict: Epic Fail [.5/10]

http://www.austriandeathmachine.com/

As Likely As Not - Stand Up and Nerve (2011)

Modern metalcore is in dire need of a facelift, a progression beyond the same old tripe that has been served upon us for the past decade, and from what I'd read of the young Italian band As Likely As Not, I was rather hoping that they'd be among the vanguard, carrying the torch. Unfortunately, their debut Stand Up and Nerve, while affixing a few twists and turns to the usual plot line, is really just more of the popular format including melodic death metal guitars in the direct succession of At the Gates and Dark Tranquillity, breakdowns straight from the camp of Hatebreed and Earth Crisis, and a mix of grunts and emotionally charged melodeath vocals, which stick pretty close to the teat of Tomas Lindberg and other pioneers in that genre.

As Likely As Not do manage to avoid a couple of the pitfalls that I'd normally equate with the style, namely the clean radio friendly vocal choruses, and the fact that their prepositional phrase name is a little more interesting than something like Beyond the Day of the Horizon of the Blood of the What The Fuck Ever. No, this is all screaming or growling of one form or another, so you can be thankful...for that lack of whining. And to be fair, they also manage to toss a few catchy hooks into tracks like "Realization", "Nerving Empathy" and "Inhale Exhale". But these are scattered far enough among the dime a dozen grooves and Swedish derived death/thrash riffs that they tend to become tainted by their surroundings. The rhythm section is rock hard, and the mix of the disc is punchy and visceral, but there's still not much impetus to bother with this album when you can dabble in better artists like Converge, Botch, Architects, Between the Buried and Me, etc, who are simply richer with ideas.

That said, Stand Up and Nerve is not completely atrocious, and about 50% of its ideas could be supplanted into other music for a greater whole. For example, I really enjoyed the weird electro track "Omega" that closes the album, except perhaps the tonal 'fuck you' that arrives as its dying out. The ambient interlude "Only Echoes of Dreams" is likewise curious, and I wish that they'd mixed this fascination for atmosphere into the rest of the album, who knows what that might have sounded like. But the Italians do not appear yet ready to release themselves from the familiar, crowd pleasing Swedish riffs and mosh rhythms, and unfortunately they're just not writing anything compelling in that direction. Unless you're pining for yet another mediocre record to add to your collection of Black Dahlia Murder, As Blood Runs Black, Unearth, or whatever the kids are hip to these days, I can't really recommend this, but at least they're a step up from shitty tattooed deathcore fashionistas and New England Sweet 16 Party metal like All That Remains.

Verdict: Indifference [5/10]

http://www.myspace.com/aslikelyasnot

The Eyes of a Traitor - Breathless (2010)

I've long been of the school of thought that there are two schools of the metalcore universe: the crafty, volatile and frenzied fare of a Converge, Botch, Coalesce, Drowningman, and the hundreds that followed in their footsteps by fusing post-hardcore and metallic elements into interesting, splayed dynamics; and then the crass and commercialized fodder (Unearth, Killswitch Engage, Black Dahlia Murder) which represents a hybridization of meaty mosh chugging and melodic death elements straight out of Sweden. By this statement, you can probably tell which one I favor, but on occasion there will be a band that flirts with the space betwixt the poles, and I feel like England's The Eyes of a Traitor represents some subtle, middle ground on their sophomore Breathless.

Don't be fooled, there are still many of the trappings of convention in place here, like the very simple chugging sequences and the passionate but typical metalcore ranting howls, but what is more interesting is what the band lays over the bricks: a cement of post-hardcore inflected chords and gleaming melodies. All of this is evident in "The Birth", which has some great ringing notation in the verses and even the plodding mutes of the chorus, proceeding into the bouncy gone melancholic chorus. But come "Come to My Senses", I was pretty sad to encounter the same crappy clean vocals that poison so many artists in this genre, who must feel that they will carry some compulsive, emotional weight. They don't. They suck, and wherever they touch this band's music (which thankfully isn't that often), they instantly spread cancer in their wake. It's a shame, because the guitars and rhythm section work pretty hard here, with a few melodies in tracks like "Talk of the Town" or "Nothing to Offer" that might have sat well on an In Flames or Insomnium album.

I wish the band could pluck out about 40-50% of the riffs here, and re-insert into compositions better fitting a more curious vision. The meaty, bouncing rhythms that are part Meshuggah, part Mnemic never really go anywhere, and the lyrics are almost all very bland, cliched and self-centered in that 1st person perspective, like thousands of throwaway hardcore bands in the 90s who were 'expressing' themselves. I don't mind personal writing, but they never seem to evoke anything beyond the bare minimum of effort and imagination (nor do the song titles). The vocals are also not interesting, with a phoned in level of emotion you can find anywhere in the genre. The production of the album feels a little too processed, but this is not unusual for the style, and at least it gives you the chance to focus on the band's few strengths: the tight, efficient rhythm section and the melodic choices made by the guitars. Other than that, there's really nothing to see here, so move along.

Verdict: Fail [3.75/10]

http://www.myspace.com/theeyesofatraitor

Amia Venera Landscape - The Long Procession (2010)

On paper, we've heard it all before: Scream/Clean dual vocal tandem, post hardcore, mathcore, metalcore, grind elements, and even post metal. In execution, The Long Procession is anything but an exercise in commonality, and not only draws the best out of its influences but displays an understanding of songwriting that is wholly uncommon for such a young band to debut with.

Dense and epic, Amia Venera Landscape have crafted such a dynamic (hinging on schizophrenic, but it never totally loses its bearings) record it can be a bit overwhelming. Piano gives way to jagged, angular guitar riffs that favor the atonal and thick. Switch-hit song structure fades easily into post-metal drone and then on to lightspeed picking. Vicious roars and screams ebb into triumphant, epic crooning over guitar crunch. Chiming, crystalline leads intertwine in the background of minor-key chugga chug antics. It's a complex, layered record that works on almost every level, even if a few elements tend to overstay their welcome.

Front and center here is the epic ten minute "Nicholas", a song that goes from Between the Buried and Me antics and halfway through switches into a interlude that wouldn't be out of place on a Sigur Ros album. Someone hits a switch, and everything comes back in: Heavy, slow, and evil, segue into another interlude, and the clean vocals bring us back into the thick with a crescendo that may have been ripped straight off an effort from Isis, all with a thread of commonality in their post-hardcore lead lines that gently guide this rabid monster through its inevitable life cycle. It's extended running time and the deftly arranged songwriting allow this monstrosity to breathe and grow on its own, and it all feels completely natural.

This is not a disjointed effort, it all flows remarkably well: For a debut album, the transitions here are admirably well done, and something the previously mentioned BTBAM seriously needs to take a look at.

"Empire" is as nasty as an album opener as someone could hope for, followed closely by two other corkers in "A New Aurora" and "My Hands Will Burn First", both of which showing heavy influence from Underoath, Alexisonfire, Starkweather, and any number of post-metal acts. The two "Glances" songs are probably the most initially pleasing tracks, especially the second since it contains more than ambience, but will be the first that wear a bit thin. It doesn't make them necessarily bad, but in comparison to the power of the rest of the album, they are the weak point.

The fourteen minute instrumental "Marasm" tends to drag in a few of the slower parts as well, but it's tendency to kick copious amounts of ass once it's hitting all its RPM's is a spectacle to behold.

Overall, this was a nice year-end surprise from this small band out of Italy. Powerful, dense, heavy as hell, creative, and executed with the deftness of a veteran band, Amia Venera Landscape deserves your eyes and ears to be on this monster of an album. Highly recommended.

Verdict: Epic Win [9.5/10]

http://www.myspace.com/amiaveneralandscape

Mutiny Within - Mutiny Within (2010)

Mutiny Within is just the latest in an ever increasing cycle of trend bands signed by a label like Roadrunner Records in their unending, desperate appeal to the masses, and the almighty dollar sign. Though the band itself was formed in 2002, and cranked out a number of demos since, they have ultimately arrived at the same metal lite, disposable platform of the artists they emulate: Killswitch Engage, God Forbid, The Black Dahlia Murder, All That Remains, etc. You'll also hear the clear nods to In Flames, Dark Tranquillity, and even a little Nevermore here in the thrashing, modern technique of the guitars and one of Chris Clancy's myriad vocal personalities, but it seems every time this New Jersey outfit has the head pumping along in appreciation, it seems as if they are contractually bound to poop all over themselves and fuck it up...

Let me make this clear: if Mutiny Within cut out about 25% of the elements found on this album (the trendy, weak ones) you would have a competent if forgettable onslaught of modern melodic death/thrash which would have Nevermore and Soilwork fans touching themselves in all manner of fond places. However, that is simply not the case, and the excellent lead efforts and versatility of the riffing and keyboards seem to be lost here, yet another album that all the MySpace fans will forget come next Saturday when the next hot ticket arrives at the Hot Topic. It's really a shame, because if you look at the band's history, numerous line-up changes, it is clear that these are folks who have persisted at their career...only to arrive at this?!

First off, the vocals are far too schizoid. Not schizoid in that they sound entertainingly insane, but schizoid in that Chris Clancy takes too many styles on a test drive. He must literally be using a dozen different voices on this album, including heinous Good Charlotte, My Chemical Romance radio rock chorus style and some of the worst US metalcore growls I've ever heard. He needs to pick a few and just stick with them, because its incredibly fucking distracting. For example, on the song "Falling Forever", he proves he would have a pretty good power/prog metal voice, with a little bit of constipation in there that hints at decent anger. But even here he botches it up with throwaway melodic radio chorus parts. Is this American Fucking Idol? Are you Chris Daughty or Adam Lambert? Or both? in "Images", he lays on harmonies with himself, but sadly these are undermined by the really generic metalcore barks. The tragedy is that the man can actually sing, and I wish he'd pick a straight up, bad ass metal voice and stick to it.

Next, the music itself, while undeniably competent (especially the guitars) is the kind that is too quickly forgotten on contact. They know how to carve out a melodic outbreak that feels soothing and pleasant to the ear while being a strenuous exercise on their hands, i.e. "Images" or "Undone", the latter of which seems like a modern Dark Tranquillity track. These guys are far better riffers than peers like Killswitch Engage and the all too sucky In This Moment, but aside from that cheap and brief uplift you feel when you turn on the radio and hear the latest pop-punk sensation, there is just no one home. I feel like a little more inherent darkness and anger would do the band good, not just through mosh rhythms or anything like that, but carry those Gothenburg influences or the Nevermore-like riffing to its logical end, aggression, instead of making 'light' and 'pretty' with every damned song on the album. "Suffocate" is an example of a positive direction, a track that might have fit on This Godless Endeavor or Enemies of Reality, with cyclic, complex riffing and a few of the less annoying vocals on the album (though even this suffers from the radio syndrome).

There is a lot of talent hiding under the trendy facade of this band, if only it could be harnessed in a direction that wouldn't immediately escape the memory five minutes after impact. If they could cut out the disease of wanting to be 'big' and 'offer something for everyone' including the 14 year old schoolgirls that must think they are the hottest thing since Rose Funeral, then we might be onto a killer band. I'd like to hear Mutiny Within write a straight power/prog or melodic death metal album and kick some ass, because I've no doubt they could contribute to the growth and persistence of metal music rather than fall into the desperate cash grabbing of poseurs while the going is hot. I threw up in my mouth at least once per track here, and my teeth and tongue are as unhappy as my ears.

Verdict: Fail [2.5/10]

http://www.myspace.com/mutinywithin

Killswitch Engage - Killswitch Engage II (2009)

It's ironic that the least bad tattoo looking logo the band have ever graced upon an album cover is accompanied by artwork that, well, seems like a pretty bad tattoo design waiting to happen, but I suppose the appeal of the band has always been towards the disenfranchised urbanite who spends inordinate amounts of time hanging at the local parlor, planning out the next inking. But then, no one has ever accused this group of ever having quality covers, opting for a minimalism that can cultivate the 'emotions' of their music.

In naming their latest record Killswitch Engage (again), I can only assume that this was supposed to be some poignant return to form. In reality, it's the same band you've heard on the past three albums. The production retains a proper degree of top shelf, pop polish that gimps the cutting edge of the guitars, but compensating in the overall clarity of the music. The lyrics and song titles are about as potent as you might expect from any faceless, random country or pop star of the 21st century: "Take Me Away", "Never Again", "Starting Over", "Save Me", "This is Goodbye", and "I Would Do Anything". Zero credit or effort expended there, but I will admit that this has a higher per capita assortment of decent riffs than anything the band have previously put out. It was bound to happen, once the band had settled into their mold, that they'd happen upon the appropriate glint of melody, and if you can pop a chubby for a band who combines In Flames, Sevendust and Atreyu, then this album might be the appropriate gateway for your quest into bad taste.

Tracks like "A Light in a Darkened World", "Take Me Away", and especially "This is Goodbye" show some potential in their writing, jubilant splurges of jiffy clean, refined riffs that too quickly go the route of extinction as the band feels compelled to insert their shitty soul vocals in predictable fashion. In fact, "This is Goodbye" might just have the best riffs of any Killswitch Engage song I've ever heard, and from :30 seconds in to about :60 I was nearly in heaven, but then the band immediately lurches into a shoddy, mediocre chugging mosh riff! Holy coitus interruptus Batman. These are the poor decisions which plague Killswitch Engage, and really, the band's entire career, and once the teenyboppers have all moved on to their next Avenged Sevenfold album, they'll have forgotten all about this disposable shitfit.

Of course, several of the songs are just downright bad, like "Save Me" and its awful Phil Anselmo wannabe vocals over poppy, plunking melodies, or "I Would Do Anything" with its brilliant lyrical scheme:

I'll give my heart and soul to see you free again
I would do anything
If you could see the hope I've always seen in you
I would do anything

Are we listening to Destiny's Child, or a metalcore band? There were many moments on this album where I completely forgot the distinction, this is such an exercise in commercial comfort. It's nearly impossible to take seriously, for every trace of potential is stamped out almost instantly like a clever serial killer stamping out the tracks of his victims to elude the authorities. The bonus live tracks exhibit a band who sounds pristine on the stage, but when you hear the "Let me hear the girls, let me hear the guys" that introduces the shitty song "My Curse", followed by Panterrible screams, and the even more awkward backing vocals deeper into the performance, worse by far than Howard himself, and the later 'douchebag' antics, then what else do I have to tell you? It's unlikely that the live rendition of their 'jump da fuc up' Dio cover is likely to alter the perception, and a Jerry Springer quote to close the performance? That speaks volumes.

This is not a band to take seriously, and not a band that takes themselves seriously. A diet of worms. For worms. A sellout from the very start. You can lead me to metalcore, I might even drink in a few of the more interesting acts. I've always had a fondness for certain elements of the genre, but I am simply unable to pick up what this band is putting down, and they are simply one of the worst and most embarrassing acts of their ilk in all the world. I would rather face A Clockwork Orange situation in which I was strapped to a chair, eyes splayed open, forced to watch American Idol with all the contestants lip syncing Lamb of God songs than spend another wasted minute with this grossly overrated sack of sheep guts.

Verdict: Epic Fail [1.75/10] (I know that you doubt my words)

http://www.killswitchengage.com/

Killswitch Engage - As Daylight Dies (2006)

When I first skimmed through the opening tracks of As Daylight Dies, I thought some major change had come over Killswitch Engage, like they had decided to shift back in time to their earlier years and make everything all the more crunchy and aggressive. Sadly, that is not the case for the entire album, and a few of the tracks sound extremely familiar to the Gothenburg-meets-groove gone emo that dominated the previous record The End of Heartbreak, so I still had to arm myself with both a bucket for bile and a box of tissues for the tears I would inevitably weep as I journeyed through this emotional roller coaster of abysmal composition and cheap metalcore thrills.

Racing, melancholic guitar streams tease the listener into thinking this is some real melodic death metal album until about 1:00 into "Daylight Dies", which then devolves into horrendous mosh metal with dull and redundant melodic fills and aimless barking. Of course, Howard Jones' soulful vocals are not far around the corner, and the whole thing collapses into an even more retarded metalcore breakdown with zero musical ambition except to entice the concert slamming of 13 year old girls and the boys who are fighting for their attention (boy are they hellbound on a fast train to disappointment). "This is Absolution" is another sheep in wolf's clothing, starting with a pair of brick house modern thrash riffs for all of 30 seconds before another shoddy groove, culminating into the typical My Chemical Romance/Fallout Boy style emotional lifting chorus with such predictability that I just spit the vodka I was drinking straight out my nose in NON surprise.

The arms race against Avenged Sevenfold to see who become the more castrated metallic doppelganger becomes even more heated when they spike off into "The Arms of Sorrow", a groove based post-hardcore track with a lot more, soaring clean vocals than usual, with enough angst in there that I felt Jonathan Davis of Korn might have been guesting in there, and a lame growling subtext which sounds insanely tacky. "Unbroken" becomes the same old shit all too quickly, a thundering if forgettable nu thrash riff that breaks it down into pit frenzy before you can even sneeze, soul chorus just around the corner, about as substantial as a hummingbird's vapor trail. But things grow steadily worse with "My Curse", a groovy Southern Pantera style slugfest with yet another cheesy emo chorus. It really feels as if they're bottling these songs up on an assembly line of awful, fast feeding them to the masses of tasteless Hot Topic hobbits like Happy Meals.

There is love burning to find you
Will you wait for me?
Will you be here?
Your silence haunts me
But I still hunger for you

I'm not going to waste your time with the rest of the band's originals here, but some special venom should be reserved for the cover of "Holy Diver" which is included in the special edition of this CD. Now, I may not be the biggest Dio fan in the world, rest his spirit, and I tend to stick towards his earlier work with Rainbow or Black Sabbath (Heaven and Hell, Mob Rules), but Killswitch Engage have taken this beloved song with its arguably atrocious lyrics and somehow made it even more corny, by tossing in chug breakdowns and other staples of their gods be damned style to make this their own. Make no mistake, I actually prefer a band to customize a cover song, it generally makes it more interesting to sit through, but when a band is already such shit on a stick as these Massholes & Co., the result is like having an appendix burst within you. You're in for a lot of pain, and it will be days until relief arrives through the proper medication.

I won't deny that, pound for pound, this is a heavier record than the past two, and to some extent I warmed a little of my inner ice to this fact, finding it just a thread less aggravating. However, it's every bit as lame and formulaic, and the bonus of having someone's childhood obsession with a legendary singer raped before my very ears by a terrible metalcore entity is not lost upon me, even if my own strings to that particular song are loose indeed. What I'm saying is that you are a posterchild for masochism, and you DO seek to actually purchase this album, spare yourself perhaps the most lethal and crippling pain and try to find the original CD release with only the originals. You have my word that it will still suck, but you might be able to handle it with over the counter medication rather than foot an ambulance bill to boot.

Verdict: Epic Fail [1.75/10] (even words of love ring so hollow)

http://www.killswitchengage.com/

Killswitch Engage - The End of Heartache (2004)

There could be many reasons contributing to Jesse David Leach's exodus from the ranks of Killswitch Engage after their steaming (pile of) sophomore effort Alive or Just Breathing, but the official statement was that he had some health issues which were affecting his ability to perform, and he didn't want to hold the band back. I like to imagine he really just woke up one day, took a good long look in the mirror and realized 'God this band sucks, and I suck with it', but I'm okay with keeping that fantasy to myself. However, considering the massive upswing in the band's popularity due to their high profile tour packages and deal with Roadrunner Records, there was simply no way this band would give it a rest so early in their career. Money was to be made. The sucking was not about to end. Just the heartache...or was it?

So in addition to bringing aboard Justin Foley as a permanent drummer (guitarist and writer Adam Dutkiewicz played the drums on the first two records), the band acquired a new singer in Howard Jones. Jones was in a pretty promising Connecticut metalcore band called Blood Has Been Shed, who on their worst day were far more exciting than anything Killswitch would ever commit to audio, but he had the right look, attitude and vocal hooks for the job. Here on The End of Heartache, he actually expanded his range to include harsh barking similar to Leach, deeper manly Panterrible vocals, and his cleans, which are far more soulful than Leach and thus recall the works of Corey Glover (Living Color), Lajon Witherspoon (Sevendust) and the more obscure Chaka Malik of post-hardcore bands Burn and Orange 9mm. This was at the same time an interesting change for the Massachusetts metalcore godz, and not necessarily a change at all, because Jones' predecessor used a similarly annoying mash of styles, and they work no better over this music with someone else at the microphone.

Yes, The End of Heartache is once again the pits, from the laughable album title and cover image to the weak at the knees lyrics which I cringe to even read. Whatever semblance of political unrest and 'save the world' lameness the band once espoused had now been magnified into high school teen pop lyrics and that would probably have worked on a Pink or Clay Aiken CD just as much as they function on a metalcore effort, that is when they're not heralds of generational 'rebirth' like the Left Behind of hardcore. But it's not just the lyrics that suck, it's the overall sterilization of the band's sound into a far-too polished pop medium. The vocals have so little impact here as they shift from a growl to a hammy soul line and back again with such awkward delivery that by comparison a Sister of God would be less shocked by a King Diamond record on her first play through.

From the first, roaring disappointment of "A Bid Farewell" you know exactly what you are about to suffer. A series of rolling, mosh riffs that took about as much effort to write as plugging in a guitar part to Jones' manly climb towards the radio friendly, emotional chorus, and a surge of melodic death lite that sounds like it was licensed directly from the band's Swedish influences. Around 2:30 the band even breaks out a fucking Pantera style groove that instantly dissolves any ability to take the album seriously, so obvious is it reaching into its own asshole to mock itself and you, the listener. "Take This Oath" merges more grooves with some fairly straight melodic death/thrash plucking, the latter of which might be acceptable without the shit sandwich surroundings it is tucked between. "When Darkness Falls" is one of the better regarded tracks on the album, and it starts with about 10 seconds of furious potential before it goes into some Lamb of God groove rhythm, complete with annoying guitar squeals and metalcore vocal cruise mode which often recalls unsuccessfully the great Rob of 108.

"Rose of Sharyn" is another pretty straight of pedestrian Gothencore and generic, escalating note sequence which reminds me of a punk band like Good Charlotte. Oh, so uplifting I just want to scream Jesus into the sky, born again to a happy world of bouncy metalcore that even my kid sister can swoon to in Teen Beat magazine. Next is the country/folk instrumental "Inhale" which is entirely worthless. There's another interlude called "And Embers Rise" deeper in the album which is actually the sole highlight of the record, as its a glistening wall of acoustics (something In Flames might also do) with a slight post-rock atmosphere. But you'll find no other such solace on this effort, it's all meat headed LCD obsessed poppy metalcore with big chorus parts and bad mosh parts. Try not to have your stomach knot as you listen through "Take This Oath" or the big tease "Wasted Sacrifice" which sounds like youth core is about to erupt before the hideous slam pit nu-grooves erupt, or "Breathe Life" which throws away a completely reasonable modern melodic thrash/death riff so that it can rock out with generichugging stupidity.

Riff for riff, I'll give this album a slight edge over its predecessor Alive or Just Breathing, but it still doesn't even border on tolerable. How a farce like this prospers in the country at large while hundreds of excellent US metal bands sink even deeper into obscure hopelessness is a mere testament to the poor taste of the masses, and I refuse to buy into it. Clean out your fucking ears for a moment, or better let, floss them with barbwire and vintage Razor records, and see the forest for the trees, you apathetic swine. The End of Heartache is more like the Persistence of a Headache, so fragmented and pathetic that I'd rather listen to Justin Bieber lipsync Jonas Brothers covers for the 40 minutes here that do not include "And Embers Rise".

Verdict: Epic Fail [1.25/10] (and my voice mirrors my torment)

http://www.killswitchengage.com/

Killswitch Engage - Alive or Just Breathing (2002)

How does one take an already awful idea and make it worse? I may not have the answer. Killswitch Engage, however, have crafted an enormously successful career out of doing exactly this, and their sophomore effort Alive or Just Breathing reeks of everything wrong with the first effort stretched into a near caricature of the most commercially realized cash cow since the Teletubbies. Somewhere between the dawn of the century and this record's release, Jesse Leach realized that he could sing with all the melodic power of the burgeoning Californian pop-punk scene, and he will remind us repeatedly here just how wonderful it will sound when mixed in with a miserable roll of mosh core, tranquil radio friendly segues and an almost intolerable level of In Flames worship.

Have you ever been shopping at the local superstore mall, browsing through American Eagle, Abercrombie & Fitch or Bath & Body Works, dreaming of the days your favorite Gothenburg melodeath band would be acceptable enough to play on the carefully plotted and positioned satellite radio stations used for capitalist ambiance? Well, Alive or Just Breathing might just have your ticket, because it is one of the safest, most stagnant records I've ever heard. The few worthwhile guitar licks on the album are interspersed with an enormous level of emotional pop shit that would even cause everyone's favorite Swedes to cringe in dismay. I don't mind a bit of In Flames, mind you. I love their first few albums, and in fact I've even enjoyed a few of their later albums where the band returned to memorable, if modernized songwriting that dragged up the uplifting force that made the band famous in the first place.

Alive or Just Breathing is like the close-cut, metrosexual cousin to early 21st century In Flames. You could discuss this around the kitchen table with your liberal girlfriend and her family living in some gated community, and when you feel angry and run out of Paul Walker/Vin Diesel car chase movies to sate that raging beast within you, you could totally choke a few bitches to the powerful positivity and pop sentimentality of "Self Revolution" or the vicious overtones of "Just Barely Breathing". Remember when that unnamed singularity hit Earth around the mid 90s that made the underground metal majority turn their anger on Texas rodeo metal howlers Pantera? This record is so full of cheaply plotted chugging breakdowns and worthless pretty girl pandering that even the most jaded Anselmo antagonist will pine for the days when Far Beyond Driven was the greatest evil in the world to rally against.

There are exceptions to the rules of the road here, like the first :45 of "To the Sons of Man", a fast-paced melodic death/thrash number with a few exciting riffs, but even here the band have to soil themselves and lapse into a breakdown coma, followed by clean vocal backups and less interesting riffs. Still, this is the best song on the entire album, and its limited to just 2 minutes of total playtime. "Temple from the Within" and "Vide Infra" are included from the debut with sparkling new production values, but since they were not good to begin with, they haven't exactly improved in the few intervening years. "Life to Lifeless" shifts between soulful clean vocals ala Puddle of Mudd to a Panterrible swagger of its own, with one half-decent thrash riff in the center that makes the remainder so goddamn frustrating, until that riff itself morphs into a fuckwit breakdown as well. Otherwise, this album falls apart almost immediately with "Numbered Days", a roiling pit fest of emotional peaks and valleys with Earth Crisis vocals, emo bridge and enough lame squeals to populate a Guitar World convention.

I've read numerous accounts of Alive or Just Breathing that hold it in extremely high regard, as if it were the Noah's Ark or saving grace of the melodic death/metalcore merger as it has been run through numerous corporate hands and approved for Jagermeister or Vans sponsored tours across the bleak suburban landscape. This is like the best album ever, like, they totally played "Fixation on the Darkness" at my junior prom. Are you fucking kidding me? This album is one of the most loathsome approximations of its confused identity genre; a stagnant waste of time and space that could only appeal to the biggest suckers among us. Shame on you for buying this, blowbacks and throwbacks. I sentence you immediately to confine yourselves to a stereo and listen through all of Kelly Clarkson's discography, which is more brutal by a landslide.

Verdict: Epic Fail [1/10] (lay your head to rest)

http://www.killswitchengage.com/

Killswitch Engage - Killswitch Engage (2000)

Many are the blights which have impacted our beloved corner of the musical spectrum, from the glam metal craze of the 80s to the shite alterna-metal, nu-metal, fairygoth metal and of course the raging monolith of suck that would become 'popularized' metalcore. But in this final, fetid category, I feel it's important to first examine the roots of how such a thing like Killswitch Engage came to be. Simply put, the subject fascinates me, because as a Massachusetts native myself, I spent much of the early 90s, the era in which local acts Converge and Cave In were still fresh scents on the air, performing in a handful bands that strove to deliver a similar mix of ingredients to what this upstart perpetuates on the impressionable and foolhardy among us.

Not all metalcore is an attempt to sate a mainstream audience by peppering them with tongue in cheek aggression and the transparent emotions of a high school teen in turmoil, as evidenced by some of the names I have already dropped. This was once a new edge of expression, an expanse of the hardcore and metal spectra that sought to either artistically and/or replace the straight edge or political motivations of early hardcore and punk with a more personal spin on the angst of love, friendship, betrayal, and trying to carve out a path in the adolescent nightmare of American life. Many bands were already doing this very blend by the early 90s, whether you were calling them 'crossover' or even 'metalcore', a term that already existed prior to the New England (and beyond) explosion of the early 21st century.

Yes, you will hear many crediting bands like Killswitch Engage, All That Remains and Avenged Sevenfold for what we today refer to as 'metalcore', but this is simply not the truth, and anyone who tells you otherwise is either a downright liar, or your average internet historian. These are all bands who simply added a spin on an existing formula: the influence of Swedish melodic death metal elements into the preconceived mix of Hatebreed/Biohazard/Reign in Blood mosh worship and godawful emo/pop-punk angst. Such was the impact of a Jester Race or Slaughter of the Soul, that an ocean away, a bunch of trendy metalcore kids were soon on the welcome wagon, injecting this guitar-driven mayhem into their dimwit pit anthems so they could expand their audience beyond just the local weekend mosh crew.

Now, the roster of Killswitch Engage back in these days were not newcomers to this blend of musical influence. Several hailed from Overcast, a promising local group who were one of the first around here to reap some success out of their metallic and hardcore influences. Others came from Aftershock, a little known act that nevertheless had friends in the other band. Singer Jesse Leach was in a band called Corrin who were themselves around for a few years, making waves locally but not yet with the international potential of Overcast. A number of these bands fell apart, and the members culled their various skills into what would become the ultimate voice of angst and aggression, a spark to fill in the void of the hundreds and thousands of dispossessed vacuum headed youths who had conveniently ignored the wealth of talented, 'purist' metal genres for well over a decade, in favor of their pop punk and groovy nu-metal excremental education at the hands of Sharon Osbourne.

In short, Killswitch Engage sucks. They've sucked from the beginning, and grown increasingly worse as the years have rolled on, ever in their favor. It's not necessarily an issue of musical adequacy. They can each play their respective instruments, and they can perform with all the jump da fuc up passion of the 90s hardcore and metalcore scene. The problem is that they write such disposable and predictable hymns of mediocrity that I'm stunned by the success. They represent all the cheap ploys of a band starved for attention, in abundance and in your face! Awful, derivative grooves that had been written by hundreds bands already, with not a single unexpected twist or turn. Bland melodeath/thrash rock out rhythms which never once affix the imagination like a Dark Tranquillity or At the Gates, never once cling to the inner ear and demand your repeated affections. Lyrics that are as vapid and pedestrian that I'm surprised they weren't penned by Papa Roach. I can even remembering seeing a few of the band's earliest shows, back when they were one of the 'house bands' at the Worcester Palladium (which was, of course, a critical component of their success, as well as a few other locals like All That Remains and Shadows Fall) having heard so much about them and then being completely underwhelmed by the music.

Killswitch Engage was their s/t 2000 debut album, the one release through hardcore stalwart Ferret Records before being snapped up by the once glorious Roadrunner, which had by this point dissolved into a viscous nu-metal cesspool. Though the name of the band was even better than the music itself even in those twilight years in which the band briefly flirted with 'underground' status, this is still the best they've released. Oh, don't mistake such an admission for apologist sentiment: this record is incredibly weak, with almost 32 minutes of mundane and forgettable melodic mosh core with as much substance as your last Listerine mouthwash session, but the rather crude affectations make it all the more charming when viewed in retrospect. The one exception, ironically, is the closing instrumental "One Last Sunset", written by Adam Dutkiewicz, who performed the drums and guitars for the album. Its a moody, almost theatrical score piece which bears no resemblance to the rest of the album, even when the metallic guitars surge forth around the midway point.

Otherwise, be prepared for an onslaught of middling metalcore which shows arguably the least amount of Swedish influence in the band's career. You've got mid paced angst rockers like "Temples from the Within" which are built ground up to get the blood of the tattooed, earlobe stretched 'fratboys of metalcore' in a frenzy as they careen about their vulgar displays of manly power. Strings of melody crash and collapse through the mix, the bass is loud and proud, and you can bet the band will continue to lapse into a moshing juggernaut, only without a single segment of viable anger or menace that was the hallmark of so many, superior hardcore bands. This is not Sheer fucking Terror here, people. This is hostility for metrosexuals on a bad hair day, or some coked up gimme gimme broad who had a bad day at the modeling agency. Sadly, it doesn't get much better than this throughout the album, even when "Vide Infra" lashes out with a true old school hardcore riff that morphs into an ascending, Cannibal Corpse-like structure (the best 10 seconds on the album, yet even this is astoundingly weak).

In fact, part of the problem with Killswitch Engage is that it is simply too unfocused, trying to cram everything possible from just about every influence these guys were riding on into a single set of songs. You'll heard a little death, a little thrash, hardcore, death, melodic death, scattered through "Rusted Embrace" and "Soilborn" like a pack of crack whores chasing ten dollar bills on the wind. Through it all, Leach's vocals shift between Tomas Lindberg barks and emotionally charged, Linkin Park/Fear Factory mallcore angst, death and black grunts, succeeding only when he sticks with one long enough to count (for example the stretch at about 2:40-2:50 in "Soilborn" where it becomes almost pure blackened melodeath). As for the lyrical content, prepare to bleed out your eyes and ears with after school special, politically correct, suburban discontent of phoned in hardcore like:

Stare in my eyes, suffer, I will not bow down!
The only truth, suffer, I will not bow down!
Pulling words from my lips and tearing me within!
This life will remain a mystery!

You could break out any dozen efforts at random from your stack of CDs and 7" from hardcore, metalcore, punk and angrier emo bands and choose lines at random. They are probably found on this album, word for word. It's not all a complete bust, as there are several lines in "Rusted Embrace" and the wrist-cutting "In the Unblind" which don't completely make one desire to barf immediately into the latest porcelain fixture or nearest human being's lap, but the majority of the verses and chorus parts are simply without much effort, an afterthought to place over the listless, slovenly music that I had forgotten before I even pressed the 'stop' on the CD player.

As hard as I try, finding something to praise about this band is as difficult trying to find a dead celebrity out of urban legend living in your closet on a diet of stale popcorn and knockoff Mountain Dew. Elvis is really dead, people, and so is the future of 'extreme' music if tripe like this continues to clog and corrode the arteries of culture and consumerism. Everything about this album is signed, sealed, safe, and delivered, and this is the heaviest and most street credible record the band have ever produced. The mix isn't bad, and the instrumental "One Last Sunset" can be excused since it is something that naturally wouldn't belong here if the band wasn't trying to fill up space, but the music shoots through the metabolism and out the attention span's arse faster than the latest episode of The Hills.

Yes, this is metalcore music for people who watch The Hills.

Verdict: Fail [2.25/10] (we must teach forgiveness and compassion for all life!)

http://www.killswitchengage.com/

Glass Casket - Desperate Man's Diary (2006)

After their debut We Are Gathered Here Today was released through indie imprint Abacus Recordings, North Carolina's insert -core hopefuls Glass Casket stirred up enough praise and buzz through the crowds and core-masquerading-as-metal press that they inevitably drew the attention of Century Media, pretty much the poster child for labels that promise to 'suck for cash', along with their sandbox mates Roadrunner and Metal Blade. The aim here was, like in many cases of a metal or deathcore band, attempting to broaden the sound and capitalize on the momentum of a lacking debut record, and to a small extent, the sophomore Desperate Man's Diary does offer more mood and variation, though ultimately relying on the same tricks that neutered its predecessor.

Desperate Man's Diary opens with a few promising chapters, in the clean ringing guitar tones of the intro "Phenomenon" and the lead-in volley to "Too Scared to Live", which is highly reminiscent of menacing Swedish melodic black metal for the few seconds it takes the band to flub it with a chug. However, this particular chug is not all that bad, and the band explodes back into a thrashing frenzy which spins into brief spurts of melodeath. This is not a good song, by any means, but its already the equal of anything the band created for the debut, and the band strike yet again with "Genesis", a fusion of bouncing tech death and a progressive lead sequence which is one of the high points of this entire record.

Other tracks also show some promise, like the clinical death/thrashing that bursts through "Less Like Human" or the Meshuggah-groove gone tech-death blaze of "The Redeemer". The solid use of bass, the construction of the riffs, the force of the drums to whip the entire fracas into a fisticuffs, and the pleasant fortitude of the lead sequence all make for another half-decent stab at a death metal song, and a lot more of this would undoubtedly see the youngsters' star rising. Sadly, the vocals remain just as indifferent and underwhelming as the band's first record, and even where the band excels beyond expectations, they still fail to deliver anything more compelling than merely competent.

If you enjoyed the debut, then its not a stretch to assume you will also devour this like a hot meal on a starved, winter night, and once again Glass Casket display the propensity for the deathcore act, when pacing itself towards better songwriting techniques, to slowly make moves towards the positive. There are a small handful of riffs and leads here which do dazzle, but they are lost among a crowd of less inspiring rhythms that choke the listener into sleep mode. You can still tear up your local mosh pit to this record, despite its technical death flourishes, there is enough brute violence to pick a few fights to. I'd recommend saving your money, though.

Verdict: Fail [4.5/10] (someone please swing her by her ponytail)

http://www.myspace.com/glasscasket

Glass Casket - We Are Gathered Here Today (2010)

Despite the general disrespect and disregard of the average 'true' metal fan for bands falling under the banners of metalcore or the more modern usage deathcore, there always seem to be a few that slip through the cracks, gaining some modicum of acceptance with even the most jaded, xenophonic circles, and Glass Casket may belong to this cadre of rare exceptions. I've had numerous friends recommend this North Carolina act to me with full disclosure of my dislike for the style in general, and thus I decided it was about time to check them out.

I was not surprised at all to be disappointed with the band's debut We Are Gathered Here Today, but I will agree that they are far less annoying than the majority of their peers. What we have is essentially a band who mixes the earlier groove/metalcore chaos of acts like Coalesce and Burnt by the Sun and injects a slight use of death metal breaks, most of which are frankly far superior to the band's -core output, and one wonders why they couldn't just go all out. Its not that their death material is particularly effective or memorable, but having it constantly broken up by chugging gallops and spastic psycho-core groove rhythms can prove an unwelcome distraction. Vocalist Adam Cody is also no help here, as he's quite typical for the style, mixing up generic US metalcore growls over the myriad breakdown rhythms and elsewhere using a slightly more effective guttural secretion.

As musicians, the band are talented enough, that is until the Earth Crisis open mute chug sequences totally dishevel their impact, as in "And So It Was Said". Take also the track "Fisted and Forgotten", with its lovely title, and witness how the band destroy it in mere seconds, opening with a volley of spastic semi-tech death/grind and then constantly abandoning it for pretty boring chug rhythms. There are moments of promise in "Fearfully and Wonderfully Made", which cycles in booming base lines and winding thrash and old school death rhythms, or 'Scarlet Paint and Gasoline" which summons a slightly Swedish evil 90s At the Gates or melodeath flair to its spastic distractions. I wouldn't dub either of these tracks 'good', but they're a step in the right direction from the pummeling pit execution the band too often lapses into to little or no success. There's nothing about these breakdowns that will get anyone excited unless they subscribe to the lowest common denominator in metal music: that which is made more for the live/mosh experience than permanent impact upon the listener of the album.

Though my time with We Are Gathered Here Today was not well spent, or appreciated, the band at least offers a more authentic passion and delivery than, say, Carnifex on their first few CDs, or the horrendous Bleeding Through. I realize this isn't saying much, but I was far less inclined to hurl this album against the nearest concrete surface than most a Whitechapel effort. I feel like Glass Casket could run with the better Job for a Cowboy material if they went more in a straight death metal direction, and perhaps they will one day pursue this. Until that day, their visage quickly melds against a landscape of other, forgettable acts chasing the same dream to mix their death metal influence with the mosh-core plague that somehow still germinates the youth of this nation, a halter to the evolution of taste: young musicians with potential writing cheap thrills and poetic high schooly melodrama lyrics, highly saturated with symbolism in the vein of Converge and other fundamental early 90s metalcore.

Verdict: Fail [3.5/10] (I can't grit my teeth without you)

http://www.myspace.com/glasscasket

Forever in Terror - The End (2009)

If there were any hope that Forever in Terror would somehow breakthrough and become one of the scene leaders in the New Wave of American Mallcore, residing alongside luminaries like All That Urine Stains, Shrill Bitch Engaged and As I Lay Crying, it must have been dashed out on the rocks of the shoreline when the band parted with Metal Blade records, their biggest ally and potential meal ticket in this scene. But this would not be enough to stop the young Ohio group in their tracks, because they decided to go on and release their sophomore opus The End independently, much to our relief.

Is the title of this album some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy, and am I a horrible person for crossing my fingers that this is the case? Regardless, a record label is not all that Forever in Terror have changed here. The band has honestly evolved their technical skills to a level of shred capacity far beyond the debut, and they will remind you of this with the constant noodling that preys upon your ears. It's not entirely appealing, and frankly I would rather listen to this on an Eric Johnson or Steve Vai record than a metalcore release, but its just one facet of the band's desire to make a progression in themselves, and to a degree I will actually applaud them. You see, The End sounds like the band might have been self-critical of their debut album and desired to conjure up something far more original, as if they had gotten their mitts upon some Between the Buried and Me or Protest the Hero records and decided this was the cool new wagon to saddle up and steer.

You'll notice the differences immediately in the first few tracks. "Sunlight Sands" opens like a driving melodic metal anthem sprinkled with pianos, and then punches through some taut but forgettable melodic death/thrash rhythms on its inevitable course to the breakdown. The vocals here are largely the same as the debut but fine tuned and slightly more effective. Sadly, the clean pop-punk/emo vocals are also still at work here, and they suck like a Blink 182 fan on his or her knees behind the bleachers with the scalper that got them front row seats. The music, however, is so convoluted and twisting that the listener will hardly be able to dwell on the pop elements. "Overboard" layers some Maiden-esque guitar melodies over a punishing backbone, before they erupt into total manic splatter/deathcore with constantly maneuvering guitars akin to Protest the Hero. This tune actually has a few decent seconds of mood within, though the band still hammer out a generic breakdown with more spikes of lead cutting through.

Yet, there are some tracks here even more frenzied, like "Lunar Fortress" and "Lazarus Mirror", and its interesting to hear the band as they keep coming back to the pianos to provide a more enriched, unique experience than their debut. "Until Valor" is a fairly glorious, technical conjuration with a number of well composed, clashing elements. In fact, I dare to say that if the band wasn't so determined to create a frothing frenzy of schizoid bliss through the compositions, and had actually spread some of these ideas out into sons rather than trying to cram them all in, we could have had a passable record. As it stands, The End feels like just too much going on and despite their improvements in technical proficiency, individual riff structure, and perhaps a few of the lyrical ventures, I quickly became overwhelmed with a desire to be elsewhere, listening to something else.

The End is by far the more interesting of this band's releases, and in fact if you were to skip their Restless in the Tides altogether, you would be missing absolutely nothing except a head ache and a 'told you so'. Granted, this is likely to give a headache all its own, as you are forced to listen to positive musical ideas smothered in grating, youth/deathcore vocals and an attention deficit disorder the size of Mt. Rushmore, but once again, the band proves that the further they move away from the expected conventions of this genre, the more rewarding they become.

Verdict: Fail [4/10] (we've waited for this call)

Forever in Terror - Restless in the Tides (2007)

I'm not sure what that poor guy on the cover to this Ohio metalcore band's debut did to them, but it must have been awful, because these kids not only hung him naked but also dipped him in a restless sea for any pirate, shark or angry squid to pick off. But heir bitter revenge doesn't stop there, because they fully intend to expand the grisly punishment to the listener of this album, Restless in the Tides, one of the most stupendously generic attempts to cash in on the rising metalcore/melodic death metal crossover scene that was probably just a few years too late to make a major impact. One could possibly feel some sympathy for the young band themselves, because they were obviously hungry and at the time this was the vehicle of choice if you wanted to make the maximum impression on the MySpace dimension in the least amount of effort, but shame on Metal Blade, a once excellent heavy metal music label, for signing up and helping distribute and perpetuate this bullshit.

As far as their individual talents are concerned, the members of Forever in Terror are honestly not wretched at performing their instruments with some tact and energy. The roots of their sound lie in the Swedish reign of melodic death metal which was pioneered by At the Gates, In Flames and Dark Tranquillity and then raped to and through the womb by a whole cast of irritatingly shitty American bands like the Black Dahlia Murder and the whole Western Massachusetts radio metalcore squadron. There are quite a few little, uplifting melodies colliding throughout the tracks, though none of them manage to stick to the thoughts beyond the actual experience, and technically the band has it all fairly tight, though I cannot vouch for any translation into the live setting. The mix of the album is average for the style, supportive of its excess breakdowns and drum work but allowing for the melodies to ring true and clear.

The real problem of course that every little random act of death metal, thrashing or true melodic death metal found on this record is just a means to the next breakdown, and the vocals are the epitome of awful, pedestrial US metalcore screaming and growling which becomes tired after only a song or two pass. There is this relentless commitment to the endless, chug and groove mosh riff, many of which are typical brick rhythms heard around the world many times now, for at least a decade, when bands like Earth Crisis and Hatebreed 'perfected it'. Mind you, Forever in Terror does not have a hardcore influence like those bands, they are simply interested in the use of the metallic breakdowns to get the crowd roused and impress all the other bands and fans of this style. The band doesn't solely chug during many of these uninspired segments, though, they very often incorporate evil sounding leads and scales in the vein of a Slayer or Death. Unfortunately, these are formulaic and rather dull.

A great deal of the material on Restless in the Tides is completely forgettable tripe, but there are a few moments spotted about the mallcore rambling that actually do shine. Tracks like "The Chosen One" resort to fucktarded Killswitch Engage styled, soulful clean vocal chorus breaks to show the band's emotional side and pop sensibility (attention record label execs!), but then there are moments like the extended lead break "In the Face of the Faceless" where the band actually begin to resemble a metal band. In fact, the band's quality index rises and peaks the further away from the terrible breakdowns they journey, and if it weren't for such abysmally trendy sequences glaring at me every 20-30 seconds in these songs, I might have been able to develop a greater appreciation. Most of their songs teeter around in the 4-5 minute range, and generally feature about 30-60 seconds of half-decent music, but occasionally they'll go for an 'epic' approach as in "Shameless Crucifixion" or the title track. By epic, I mean the same shit as the other songs, only with an acoustic, In Flames-like outro ("Shameless Crucifixion") or proggy breakdowns with more of the hideously annoying clean, emo vocals with some clean guitars and even violins, which might take you by surprise if you actually cared by the time "Restless in the Tides" actually shows up.

This is far from the most talentless band of hacks out there, and when they show their willingness to branch out beyond the malevolent grasp of all things mall, they actually do begin to sparkle like a newborn baby's urine as it involuntarily splashes its parents for the first time. If they'd only disembark from the obvious trends they are attempting to line their pockets with, who knows what manner of potential would develop? But everything from the shit cover art, shit logo, weak lyrics seemingly borrowed from some angry freshman goth girl's English notebook, forgettable breakdown centrifuge of the writing, atrociously mediocre rah rah vocals and overkill of In Flames styled melodies needs to first be replaced if they're to make their way through the foggy haze of recognition and survive the inevitable collapse of this 21st century castration of extreme music.

Verdict: Epic Fail [2/10] (locked in a cellar of distress)

Austrian Death Machine - Double Brutal (2009)

Apparently Tim Lambesis was just warming us all up with the suck of his joke band Austrian Death Machine's debut, because a year later he's back, with Double Brutal, another album of disposable 'humor' celebrating the most famous action hero of the 80s and 90s, a direct 'sequel' which might qualify for a straight to video release if I hadn't already gnashed the reel in my teeth. Did the world really need this? Wasn't the first album quite enough, and do you really feel like there's enough material to squeeze out another album of nonsense based on Arnold Schwarzenegger film quotes? Didn't anyone ever see the movie Wall E? Do we want or future to look like the first segment of that movie? Who green lit this artistically and comically null detritus?

Lambesis himself had become more competent by this point, and once again ably performs all the instruments and vocals, joined yet again by a host of metalcore guitar players from bands like The Human Abstract, All Shall Perish, Unearth, and Darkest Hour, all cross promoting their own bands while contributing to this way cool project! Or maybe they just owed the creator some drug money from mutual tours of the past. By this point, we've already got the energetic but insufficient riffing of Total Brutal to add upon, and the sophomore album doesn't exactly fails in this ambition. The songs are in general more thrash focused, though the gang shouts remain on tracks like "See You at the Party Richter" (which sports a decent Chris Storey solo) or the post-intro opener "I Need Your Clothes, Your Boots, and Your Motorcycles". The cheesy palm mute mosh riffs remain, but at least a few of them sport some decent thrash riff accompaniment in the tradition of the Goat of a Thousand Breakdown Bands, Slayer, which is unsurprisingly one of the band's biggest influences.

For jokes this time out, we get a guttural/death metal parody skit/song combo called "Hey Cookie Monster, Nothing is as BRutal as Neaaahh" and "Who Told You You Could Eat My Cookies?" which is downright awful. Cookie Monster jokes in references to death metal are about as tactful and humorous as...Arnold Schwarzenegger parodies in 2009, and though the lead guitar tries to make up some ground, the super guttural breakdown was just fucking inevitable. There's a skit here to reference the first album, called "Who Is Your Daddy, and What Does He? 2" which might as well be called "Who Cares, No one Will Remember that this Was Not Funny By Tomorrow". "Conan, What is Best in Life?" seems like a fairly straight tribute to the famous lines from Conan the Barbarian until the douchebag reference line 'You want to know what is best in metal...it's a guitar solo...oh yeah!' before guest Jason Suecof rips into his lead. Perhaps the best song on the album musically is "Come on Cohaagen, Give Deez People Ehyar".

But Double Brutal is called Double Brutal for a reason beyond the fact that it's the sophomore and has opposing faces of the Terminator and...Lambinator on the cover. It's also a Double Album, and the second disc is largely metalcore/ thrash covers of songs by Judas Priest, Misfits, Metallica, Megadeth, and Motörhead, all pretty safe and standard, none possessing any of the charm of their original incarnations since they're splattered in all kinds of shitty metalcore vocals and clownish background accompaniment. The Lemmy vocals in particular are heinously embarrassing. More unique would be the covers of Goretorture (a Finnish band who used to use Arnold movie samples in their music, very clever Tim), Agnostic Front, but then, these are equally lame in their delivery. Think of listening to Killswitch Engage's pathetic Dio cover about 7 or 8 times in a row, and that sums up the majority of the musical content to this disc. There are also some skits here, which are, surprise surprise, not at all funny. The only actual track on this disc worth hearing would be the metalized version of the Terminator 2 theme. Lambesis could just have well recorded this, posted it to his personal MySpace or Facebook or whatever, and then called it a day without ever putting these albums out and I might have been happy.

Double Brutal was an entirely unnecessary effort from a joke that still lacks a punchline. Perhaps if Austrian Death Machine had manifested in just the debut, it would be a little more forgivable, but this is like having your remains tread on by a tank after already being stung to death by annoying wasps. It's about as useful as tits on a bull, or a fish on a bicycle, or tits on a bicycle. Okay, strike that last one, because watching a pair of double brutal boobs bounce on a bicycle would be infinitely more entertaining than listening to this album. A few of the riffs on Disc 1 are decent, the metal T2 theme is fun enough, but the rest of the 56 minutes is a flat tire waiting to happen.

Verdict: Fail [2.25/10] (get ready to not get pumped)

http://www.austriandeathmachine.com/

Austrian Death Machine - Total Brutal (2008)

As a youth and teen, I grew up in an era when people actually looked forward to each Arnold Schwarzenegger film with baited anticipation, because once upon time they were usually great fun, and showed all the innocence of film-making which seems to have died out in the big budget green screen revolution. Commando, Predator, The Running Man, Conan the Barbarian, and the first two Terminator films are in my opinion the best he's done, and still entertaining views over two decades in the future, where we find ourselves in a cynical age just as short on taste as any criticisms one might have leveled at the 80s and the Austrian bodybuilder whose career went supernova. Obviously, the accent and rather one-dimensional roles the man was handed were catalysts to a massive, nigh unending cycle of parody at the hands of comedians, celebrities and really just about everyone you know...

How many of us have exclaimed 'I'll be back!' or 'Get to tha choppa!' out loud, even at random, in our lifetimes? Arnold is a household name around most of the world, and if there's an exception, it must be some place without electricity, or another dimension, because even the deaf, dumb and blind know of this man's exploits on screen. By the 21st century, this is beyond played out, and Schwarzenegger impersonators have long since ceased being cool or funny. Someone forgot to mention this to Tim Lambesis, frontman for the crappy Christian metalcore band As I Lay Dying, because he decided to streamline his personal entry into the latest thrash trend with an all out Schwarzenegger parody, or should I say a tribute, interspersing bits of original dialog using a half-decent Arnold voice with a faceless mesh of youth hardcore, modern Slayer-like thrash riffing, gang shouts, overbearing metalcore vocals akin to his other band, and breakdowns.

It's actually impressive to an extent that Lambesis laid down all the groundwork for this record himself, demo'ing the instruments and then having friends come along to compensate for his own shortcomings by redubbing some of the specific guitar and drum tracks. Fair enough. He also brought on a host of metalcore guitarists like Adam Dutkiewicz of Killswitch Engage, Nick Hipa of As I Lay Dying and even Jason Suecof, studio wizard and guitarist of Capharnaum & Crotchduster, to add some guitar solos to the material. Most of the song titles are lifted from movie quotes featuring the Governator, and between these we get a few awful dialog sequences of Arnold's impersonator going through the band motions, skits similar to something you might find on some terrible hip hop record, only not as funny.

The problem of course is that a parody band must be funny, and Austrian Death Machine is not at all fucking funny. This is like the pitiful comedian you see at some gig, trying to rely on the old Arnold impersonator shtick because he cannot actually write an original joke to save himself. Musically, there is nothing of value unless you really think the Cro-Mags, Madball and shitty post-80s Slayer need an update to 21st century studio standards. Whether it's the hardcore meets shred indulgence of "You Have Just Been Erased", the Municipal Waste meet Earth Crisis stomper "Here is Zero, Now Plain Zero" or the terrible thrashing Slayercore of "If It Bleeds, We Can Kill It", there is simply nothing memorable beyond the fact that it's tight, in time and performed with some degree of competence. A few of the riffs like the choppy thrashing in "Who Is Your Daddy, and What Does He Do" or "Rubber Baby Buggy Bumpers" might have actually worked with better vocals and no hardcore injection, but they're simply disposable in this context.

Almost all the songs have some horribly derivative metalcore breakdown from the days when Earth Crisis and peers reigned and already wrote them all, and I really cannot abide by Tim's vocals, which are your dime a dozen angry metalcore overkill which sounds like a mix of Phil Anselmo and Karl Buechner, with a little NY slant like Lou Koller of Sick of It All thrown in for good measure. The guest solos, while not technically unsound, are merely tripe dressing for the lame procession of songs that fly straight in one ear and out the other like a bazooka shell, only you don't gain the benefit of dying and escaping the stain this record leaves on your conscious. But even lamer, so much lamer than any of this is the self-referential diatribe Lambesis has in some of the skits, or the disclaimer that the album is somehow above criticism because its a joke band. Are you kidding me?

'Wait a second, I gotta try out my new delay pedal...' No one cares, brutal guy. You are not funny. Arnold's 'new song ' title in the "Broo-Tall Song Idea" is not funny, even if you half-ass Cookie Monster guttural vocals along to it. What the fuck, did you get this idea while hanging out with skater bois for a Mountain Dew commercial shoot?

Perhaps some Honcho at Metal Blade got a kick out of this concept, or perhaps they thought it was the right time to strike and turn a few more bucks in the nu-Thrash-xplosion! The Arnold Schwarzenegger thrash tribute band was really inevitable in a sudden rebirth of 80s worship in extreme music, and really I'm surprised it hadn't been done before to this extent. I might argue that Austrian Death Machine is superior to As I Lay Dying, but that's like arguing that a poop joke is more effective than a whoopie cushion. They're both perfectly effective fun for a six year old kid, but their impact grows a little sour through adolescence. Of course, if you're six, you can probably skip out on this review, go buy the album, the t-shirt and if mommy's got the change, maybe even a mouse pad or the McDonald's theme Happy Meal. Make sure you get two straws, because this sucks enough for both.

Verdict: Fail [2.75/10] (no, screw YOU)

http://www.austriandeathmachine.com/

Parkway Drive - Deep Blue (2010)

Remember Deep Blue Sea, that movie with all the sharks and the secret government facility and whatnot? Yeah, the one where shark brains cure all of mankind's problems, so we give them gigantic megasharkbrains so they can form their own shark government and live peacefully among the humans in exchange for a few all-healing megasharkbrains to keep us alive forever. It went pretty well until the megasharkjerks decided to systematically eliminate any black men they caught giving a Braveheart speech, forcing Skynet to send a robot shark back in time to try and sabotage their society from within. Roboshark was able to keep the megasharkassholes from overthrowing humanity, but Samuel IGotBitInFuckingHalf Jackson still didn't make it. Unfortunate, but then, is society really any worse off without someone who thinks it's a good idea to give a five minute monologue in front of a pit of angry ultrasharks?

Parkway Drive's newest album is kind of like that, only without any of the sharks or black people or anything else interesting. In their place is a bunch of boring mid-paced metalcore. Nothing stands out as being particularly terrible; every member is more than competent with their respective instrument, lead angry shouting man is adequate (if somewhat monotonous), and there's quite a few interesting ideas floating around. The problem is how damn pointless it all is. The entire album is an excuse for aforementioned angryman Winston McCall to yell some angsty Facebook status updates over top of yet another worthless breakdown.

It's frustrating, really, because the guitarists throw some genuinely great riffs and leads around, but they're never allowed to head towards a worthwhile climax. Triumphant leads show up out of the blue and flail about like a wounded seal for awhile before being sucked down into the abyss of breakdowns that haunts every single song. Just like the uberdicksharks from the movie, it's like the breakdowns are hiding around the corner at all times, waiting for someone to start a speech so they can Kanye West the fuck out of them.

Maybe it's for the best, though. "Home Is For The Heartless" manages to hide in a dark, breakdownless corner for an entire four minutes while also managing to be the most annoying song here. Worthless chugging is replaced with a stream of constant "I really wish we were Paramore" whoaaa-ohhhs and the incredibly obnoxious line "If home is where the heart is, why do I feel so fucking heartless?" On the subject of lyrics, while that's a particularly horrible example, it's still indicative of the rest of the album: it's all just cut-and-paste metalcore angst, with a few more "fuck"s thrown in than usual to show that they're really mad about how miserable life is.

Just like Mr. Jackson from that movie, Deep Blue is kinda cool at times but got eaten by a shark because it's stupid and sharks are dicks. In conclusion, fuck sharks.

Verdict: Fail [3/10] (i mean seriously sharks just go away)

http://www.myspace.com/parkwaydrive