Album Review: Painted Doll - How To Draw Fire

The first Painted Doll album was something rather different. The combination of a death metal legend and a comedian making music that was as much 60s pop as anything was weird, but mildly amusing. There were a few songs that justified the experiment, but it was a record that I wasn't going to be going back to very often (and in fact never did). It wasn't that it couldn't work, nor that I didn't want it to, but simply that there weren't enough songs I wanted to hear again.

Now we get to find out if time, and the experience of having an album under their belts, can make the second effort any better.

The album opens with "Sun In The Sea", one of the heavier songs in the band's repertoire, but one that follows an unusual songwriting form. The track is five minutes long, and has a lengthy guitar solo, but only sings the chorus of the song once, in the first half. Since that is where the main melody is centered, not revisiting it is an odd choice. I don't say this to be harsh, but the guitar playing isn't able to carry the melodic quotient all on its own, so relying on so much instrumentation doesn't fit the vibe the band is going for.

The core of the band's sound is a hazy, laid-back approach to rocking. Everything is subdued, mellow, and the sort of thing you listen to when you're not looking to get yourself pumped up. That's just fine, by the way. It actually reminds me a fair bit of the record made by the group Myja, which was a favorite of mine a few years ago. That record had the same sort of tone and timbre, but it leaned harder into the pop element, so the record had a vibrancy to the melody that played well against the lethargic sound of the production. Painted Doll doesn't quite get there. Even when they are trying to be their most pop, like on "You Were Everything", the hooks can't shine brighter than the energy poured into the performance.

That remains the biggest drawback to the record. I like the sound and the approach Painted Doll trades in, but for all the talk about making the pop parts bigger, this record doesn't have much of any sort of pop appeal. The hooks and melodies are flat, so there isn't a lot here to sink our teeth into. At the very least, the band could have used more layered vocals to give the impression of something more substantial. When they do that on "Slow Armageddon", it's the best song on the record. There aren't enough of those moments either, so there are several songs where it takes a minute to even recognize what the hook of the song is supposed to be. I get that not every song needs to have a giant chorus, but they do need something memorable. When they blend together with the verses to become indistinguishable, I would argue they aren't succeeding.

Like last time, Painted Doll is giving us a record that gives us an interesting sound, but songs that can't live up to the promise. I would very much enjoy hearing a record of catchy songs played with this aesthetic, but we don't get that. The songwriting once again comes up a bit short, and rendered Painted Doll more of a curiosity than a band we need to pay attention to. Without any songs I know I need to keep hearing, Painted Doll is once again going to be an afterthought. That's a shame.

Album Review: Amaranthe - Manifest

 

Every musical movement has a leader. There is always one band that sets the standard for a particular sound, and no matter how many others come along afterwards, they will always be the bar everyone else is compared to. They might not always be the best, but they are the name everyone knows, the blueprint everyone follows. For the current influx of electronic-leaning pop metal, there is absolutely no doubt Amaranthe are the leaders of the genre. They have the biggest platform, they have the brightest spotlight on them.

When "Helix" came out, I was floored by how well Amaranthe were able to fuse metal and pop, creating the most infectious metal songs, or the most metal modern pop songs (however you want to look at it), in a long time. That record made my top ten list at the end of the year, but I couldn't have known how many more albums I would have heard, both from new and established bands, in the time since. I can safely say that while several of them are rather good, none of them match "Helix". The question is; can even Amaranthe scale that mountain again?

I'll cut right to the chase; yes they can. If you enjoyed "Helix", then "Manifest" will hit the same sweet spot. Amaranthe continues to know exactly how to blend modern pop with modern metal in a way that no one else quite does. They weave chugging guitar rhythms with the synth and electronic rhythms of modern pop, rarely letting their foot off the accelerator as the plow through songs as breakneck speed. Hooks cascade atop one another, relentlessly pounding their way into our heads. They don't waste any time, with only one track on this album even reaching four minutes long. They don't need more time than that, because these songs are aimed at burrowing into your head, and the tightness of their construction is a key element to doing that.

What truly separates Amaranthe from everyone else is the triple vocal attack. Elize Ryd is a fantastic singer (her appearance on Timo Tolkki's rip-off metal opera was the only worthwhile thing about that project), but the blending of her voice with Nils' clean vocals create gigantic harmonies that make the choruses sound larger than life. And then Henrik's harsh vocals add a contrast to keep the music from being too fluffy, but always just clean enough that everything he sings can still be heard. Between those vocals and the guitar patterns, there are hints of extreme metal in the sound, but it's engineered to appeal to everyone. It's subversive, and expertly done.

If you're heard either "Viral" or "Strong", the singles for the album, you know what Amaranthe is delivering. Breaking down the rest of the track listing is almost pointless, because every song has the same propulsive energy and sticky hooks. Sure, "Strong" adds Noora Louhimo's massive voice for even more vocal power, while "Make It Better" is a slower and heavier track, but they all fit the same mold, and deliver the same results. From start to finish, "Manifest" is an album that never takes its eye of the prize, and consistently pummels us with fantastic songwriting.

There's only so many ways to keep saying this is great music. The only real question left is to ask ourselves if Amaranthe have cleared the bar they have set for themselves, and everyone else. To that end, yes they have. "Manifest" is easily the best album I've heard fusing pop and metal like this since "Helix". I have no doubt about that. Is it better than "Helix"? That I'm not so sure I can say, but being in the ballpark is a huge win by itself. Amaranthe is leading the charge, they are the biggest band in this particular genre, and for damn good reason. They're the best at it.

Album Review: Fight The Fight - Deliverance

With their debut album, Fight The Fight joined into the number of bands these days throwing genre out the window, ashing together every influence they have ever had. There are now a lot of bands that see no reason not to indulge their every creative whim, who apparently believe their audience will have as varied a set of influences as they do. I don't think that's the case, which is why a lot of bands like this could do well to restrain themselves a bit. Picking a couple of different sounds to blend, but not all of them, might be a better path to take. While there were some promising moments on their first record, it wasn't something that held together as a great album. I worry that the very nature of this philosophy makes that nearly impossible.

That is put to the test early on, with the title track switching between djent grooves and black metal blasts. With vocals that switch from growls to shrieks, it's a cacophonous whirl of noise, but amid the chaos isn't much of a song. It isn't until more than halfway into the song we get the first hint of a melody, and even that is with layered harsh vocals that are rather piercing. The song is a grab-bag of modern metal cliches, and like a lot of modern metal, it comes without a framework for the experiments to hang onto.

There are better songs, though. "Ritual" is a more driving track, with a huge riff in the vain of Pantera's "Walk". But what's interesting is that after the verses are barked at us, the chorus sounds like a pissed off Axl Rose snarling the melody. That's a moment that comes as much out of nowhere, but works far better. By having that small tie to something more widely known and appreciated, it anchors the wilder moments, and has a focus the song desperately needs.

That sound carries into "Triggerfinger", where the verses are early 2000s rap-rock, but the chorus comes in with a vibe that is almost Offspring-esque. I don't know what to make of the blend, but I do find myself enjoying the bits that feel familiar to me. As was the case the first time I listened to Fight The Fight, they have moments where they come up with something I really want to like, but they surround it with music I don't think fits.

Because of that, the album is once again a mixed bag. The band delivers some solid hooks on these songs, but they aren't strong enough to make the rest of the music worth sitting through. The road to those melodies travels through riffs and vocals that veer too far away from the core of the song for my tastes. With a band like Kvelertak, they take traditional songs and twist them by using bitterly harsh vocals. Fight The Fight is taking it a step further by also moving the verses to the songs into extreme territory, and it cuts too close to the bone.

"Deliverence" is another album that shows some promise in the form of the moments when the band isn't trying to veer as far off-center as they can. They have the ability to write some interesting music, with the strong appeal, but this record as a whole is far too haphazard to work the way they want it to. Maybe for a younger listener who grew up listening to absolutely everything under the sun it will make more sense, but to my ears the string tying all of this together was missing.

Album Review: Brother Firetribe - Feel The Burn

Brother Firetribe is on that tier of bands who I like, and whose music I enjoy when it comes on, but whom I seldom think about without anything to jolt my memory. They make serviceable rock that slips in one ear and out the other, sort of like empty calories. Those are fine in the moment, but you aren't going to remember the taste once you've rinsed out your mouth. Maybe that sounds a bit too harsh, but the basic point is that bands like this don't have quite enough of an identity of their own to stand out from the crowd. I've listened to multiple albums of theirs, and I can't come up with anything to tell you that differentiates them from H.E.A.T., or any number of other bands playing slick and melodic rock.

This time around, the band blends their ultra 80s rock with some of the modern electronic pop that has been ruining all manner of bands for the last decade. I don't know when bands are going to realize that synthetic, percussive music isn't conducive to big, melodic hooks, but I hope it comes soon. That, and the obsession with the 80s, have made it tough for me to be excited by rock music for the last few years. The two make rock sound both old and dour, which isn't a good mix.

The worst offender is the single, "Night Drive", where we get a long buildup of fake sounding percussion, cheesy synths chiming in, and a chorus that is pure Hall & Oates. It's the sort of thing that would have been great in 1985, except that it's 2020. It doesn't sound vintage in the way that the organic rock bands recall the 70s, but rather an intentional attempt to copy a particular production style of the past. It's a pastiche, a gimmick, and it leaves the record feeling rather hollow because of it.

The band has written good songs before, and there are some good ones here. The chorus of "Bring On The Rain" is a fist-raiser, except for it not sounding too soft to hit the heights it otherwise could. This is supposed to be a rock album, but there's very little energy and grit to it. The sound is so polished it doesn't sound powerful enough to be the kind of arena anthems the band is clearly going for. Journey's "Separate Ways" this is not, that's for sure.

As before, this is music that is pleasant to listen to, but I know I'm not going to find myself drawn to come back and listen again. The hooks are good, but not great, and the music itself is hokey in a way I don't find particularly fun. I have no problem listening to this, and I do bob my head along at times, but it's not the kind of rock music I would usually choose to listen to. I've said many times I don't understand why people have an obsession with the 80s, and every time I come across a record like this that wants to go back to that time, I'm not getting an answer. I have no nostalgia for this sound, and I think you need it to get over how hackneyed it is.

Brother Firetibe is once again a good band squandering what could have been a better record by making choices I don't think position them as a current band of note. They are clearly trying to be a band of the past, and since most of those bands are still out there on the scene, that makes what Brother Firetribe is up to redundant and unnecessary. Sorry, guys.

Album Review: Yours Truly - Self Care

The downside to being a critic is.... being a critic. When you spend so long analyzing music, it becomes hard to listen to something new without hearing the flaws and dwelling on them. It's the nature of the beast. Even among the albums that populate my yearly Top Ten lists, including the winners for Album Of The Year, I can always find something about each one that you could call a nit I have picked. That didn't happen, however, when I was listening to Yours Truly's "Afterglow" EP last year. Those five songs flew by in a whirling dervish of near perfection. Not only did the music fit into the category of pop/rock I grew to become a music fan listening to, but the only complaint I was able to register was that the band wasn't giving us a full-length album.

That is changing with "Self Care", the biggest statement yet by Yours Truly. Across their two EPs, they have already established themselves as one of the catchiest rock bands on the planet, and with more to sink our teeth into this time, this record is where the world should take note of this young group. I was sold on the potential alone, but when the first singles were released, it was evident to me we were on the verge of something great. "Composure" and "Together" both showcased the band doing what they do best, putting thundering drums and crunchy guitars behind Mikaila Delgado's sharp voice and sticky hooks. The feeling I got listening to them, "Together" in particular, was the same thing that happened when Green Day was moving into their "American Idiot" phase. Yours Truly has the songs and sound we used to call 'arena sized'.

Perhaps the current situation of the world explains this, but one of my favorite records last year, Dream State's "Primrose Path", was a therapeutic cleansing of the mind that rang true with a sense of optimism that we'll get through this. As the title might suggest, "Self Care" follows a similar line of thought, working through issues in song, and coming out the other side with a better understanding of who we are, who we want to be, and what it takes to keep ourselves from sliding back under the black clouds. Because of that, I don't just think of this as another record coming along to entertain us, it's something more important than that. "Self Care" is a means for us to do exactly that; to care for ourselves.

In the opener, "Siamese Souls", Mikaila says a line about there being nothing left but a sense of regret, which is in the context of a breakup, but also speaks to this moment in time. Sometimes it feels like our connection to humanity as a whole, and not just to one special person, has been severed, and with it our ability to be optimistic. But the way she asks these questions atop a melody so sunny and uplifting gives us the impression that the pain is only a chapter, and we will soon be able to move on with a better sense of understanding.

Later, in "Vivid Dream", Mikaila sings about how nothing lasts forever. When Axl Rose said the same thing in "November Rain", it sounded like the end of the world. In Mikaila's voice, it's a statement of how we can grow and evolve into better people than we are now, and where we are now is not where we are always destined to be. There's no weeping guitar solo, because she is defiant in the face of pain, not giving in. The difference in attitude is palpable, and propels this album forward.

The songs on this record are rooted in the best parts of pop-punk, with riffs that get your toe tapping as a catalyst to get you to take the first step forward. This is a record with songs exploring our darkness, but the music remains upbeat, bright, and overwhelmingly fun. Whether you want to confront your own demons or not, "Self Care" can be there for you. It will ask the tough questions if that's what you want, but it will also just put a smile on your face with catchy songwriting if that's all you're looking for. The choice is left up to you.

Mikaila want to know "if tracing over all your scars helps with your closure". Isn't that the question all over-thinkers ask themselves? No song can quell those thoughts, but it can tell us it's ok to feel that way. Sometimes, acceptance is half the battle.

Yours Truly has grown and evolved since their first EP, and even since the already great "Afterglow" EP. They had the sound and the hooks, and Mikaila has dug even deeper on this record, which adds weight to their songs, like the bait on the end of the shiny hook. The only way to find out our destiny is to act, even if it may hurt. I've bit. "Self Care" is this year's most important album, and quite frankly, it's my favorite album of the year so far.

Getting Synced With VK Lynne's "Brain Waves"

I have said many times that I don't like modern pop music. That's a gross simplification of a more complex reality, wherein pop music has largely shifted towards a sound that is centered on rhythms instead of melodies, dour sadness instead of more lively emotions. Pop music today is as if the music I grew up listening to on the radio has been poured through a sepia-toned speaker, coming out distilled, monochromatic, and hard to decipher. Elton John recently asked, "where are the songs?" That's the feeling I get listening to modern pop, as the emphasis on flow and feel simply does not mesh with the way my brain is wired. Pop music was an escape, and I no longer feel enticed to run away with it.

But if anyone can rescue pop music from itself, VK Lynne might be the right woman for the job. With her shock of pink hair, her outsized voice, and her poetic mind, she is a throwback to when pop music and pop stars were larger than life, when they leapt out of the screen and made us pay attention, made us think, and made us remember them. Or, maybe I just happen to be on the same brain wave as VK.

 Opening with finger snaps, VK's vocal in the verses weaves a rhythm of words in a lower register, showcasing her poetic side. It can be heard as an interpretation of modern 'mumble pop' done clearly, but I hear it almost as a poetry recitation set to music. By subduing the melody to her flow, VK is putting more attention on her lyrics, which stand out as your brain has to put the syllables into the rhythm. As she sings, I can hear in her cadence the clicking of typewriter keys as she furiously pounds out the words while they are fresh thoughts in her mind. It's an approach I often find fault with, but that's because giving us neither melody nor interesting words means there is little to grab onto.

VK is a writer, and because of that her lyrics give us images and ideas to ruminate on, they give us the ability to give as much of our meaning to the song as her own. A song can be universal by saying something obvious with simple language, or by saying something complex with enough of a veil we are able to fill in the details ourselves. When she sings, "smiling through the glass in the mirror", we can decide if she is genuinely smiling in the face of the events, or whether the smile is caught in the mirror itself, the inverted reflection of her true feelings. The words might slide by without a thought as you listen, but the question is in there. Eventually, you start to see yourself in the song, because you are able to draw your own conclusions, which are bound to follow your own shape.

When the chorus hits, the song basks in its pop glory, with a bright melody standing atop the guitars and keyboards. The textures are pure pop, but with a far more organic sound that makes it sound and feel alive, which is the complete opposite of what modern pop tends to imply. There is vibrancy and color in VK's voice, which goes from singing a hook reminiscent of Lady Gaga's best pop period (but I'll be the one to say "I'll Always Remember You This Way" from "A Star Is Born" is her best song), to throwing in a hint of her old blues in the last line. We're all built from a world of influences, and we get to hear several of them in these three minutes.

The songs VK writes for The Spider Accomplice are dark stories to balance out the energy of Arno's guitars. With "Brain Waves", VK has her brightest, most candy-coated backdrop to sing over, and it reveals even more of her voice than we've heard before. Everyone sounds sad singing the blues, and plenty of singers are powerful singing over a rock song, but not many are able to turn a sugary pop song into a thick, smokey caramel. VK is one of those rare people, and it's fascinating to again hear a pop song that sounds like a moment of realization, where the swell into the chorus is the cathartic breakthrough we all wait for.

Great pop music is one of the hardest things to write. Trust me, I know from experience. Trends sometimes make it a hair easier or harder, but at its core songwriting that connects and entertains is not an easy thing to master. "Brain Waves" is a great pop song at a moment in time when we could all use more of them. If more pop sounded like this, I would be more of a pop fan.

Then again, maybe I'm just on the same brain wave as VK Lynne. That's not such a bad place to be. 

"Brain Waves" will be available everywhere on October 1st. Pre-save it here.

Bloody Good News: Fake Retirements & Misplaced Outrage

 In this news this week, two musicians voiced opinions, but with very different outcomes.

Our Top Story: Dee Snider has spoken out against bands who announce their retirements, only to never go away. The practice, which has been becoming more and more popular, did not sit well with the veteran who recently said goodbye to his own band.

"“I think it’s bullshit,” he said. “When you say farewell… Rage Against The Machine breaks up — that’s not retirement. They broke up, and they reformed, and that’s great. But when you do a farewell tour, and you announce this, and you sell tickets, and you have a t-shirt that says ‘No More Tours’ — thank you very much, Ozzy [Osbourne], I bought one of those — and then you come back, that’s bullshit."

I bring this story up not so much to air my own grievances again, but to commend Dee on being on the right side of the issue. We have seen so many bands treating their fans as a resource to be exploited, it's nice to see someone who gets it. Conning the fans by promising something that isn't going to happen is a fraud on the very people who have made your career possible, but it also hurts you moving into the future. As he mentioned, Ozzy has done multiple retirement tours, enough so that his eventual retirement won't be taken seriously until he is no longer with us. What could be an opportunity to cash out one last time, and have a proper remembrance of his career is impossible now, because "No More Tours III" would be a joke.

I have complained over the years about bands like Candlemass and Scorpions, who both promised to be retiring from making new music, only to still be heading into the studio. I do feel lied to, and for what? What did either band gain by saying they were going to hang it up? In one case, they blame management for putting the idea in their heads, but that's not much of an excuse. In those relationships, the manager works for the band, and they don't have to follow any advice they don't want to. Scorpions made the decision to announce their retirement, they made the decision to walk back on their word, and they have to face the consequences of that, even if I'm the only one who will ever say anything.

I get that it's hard to retire from something that has been such a part of you for so long. I don't blame anyone for being conflicted about those feelings, or for not wanting to retire at all, but in that case don't do it. If you aren't absolutely sure, don't make a public pronouncement about the end being the end. Some decisions are too important to be trifled with.

I always say the only thing artists owe the fans is honesty. These 'retirements' are dishonest, and it ruins the relationship.

In Other News: Stryper frontman Michael Sweet was angered by a review of his band's new album on Blabbermouth that focused on Sweet's evangelical mindset in writing songs. The review was critical of religion in general, and Sweet in particular, but Sweet showed his skin has not grown any thicker in thirty years of dealing with the press.

He responded to the review by saying is, "borders on being illegal."

Look, I get that people don't like having their faith criticized, but when you put it front and center of your musical identity, it's going to happen. A Christian artist is not going to only be listened to by Christians, and it's inevitable that some people are going to take issue with being preached to.

It leads me to questions I have never gotten a satisfactory answer to; Why is it so important for people of faith to have their beliefs shared by everyone else, and why do so many of them feel the need to preach their faith to anyone who will listen? This is just the way my brain works, but if you believe so devoutly, it shouldn't matter if other people agree with you. Whether or not the writer of a review shares the same view of religion as Sweet shouldn't matter to him, not if his faith was a fraction of as strong as he projects it to be.

This would have been an easy opportunity for Sweet to ignore the review, and show himself to be secure in himself and his faith. By responding as he did, he only brings more attention to the words he felt were a personal attack.

And here's the truth; religious beliefs wouldn't matter in music if religion wasn't invested in our politics. If Sweet's beliefs were contained to himself and his church, I don't think even most atheists would care in the slightest that he was writing songs praising Jesus to the high heavens. But religion is political, and an entire religious movement spends all their energy and money trying to force an entire country to live by the rules of their faith. Sweet walked right into that discussion by giving one of his songs a title usurping Donald Trump's campaign slogan.

Sweet can be offended that a writer is distasteful of his faith, but the leaders of that very faith are trying to forcibly convert us to their rules. That's not the discussion Sweet wants to have, but it's where his comments lead us. I get why he's angry, and I get why people who don't share Sweet's devotion are leery of religion creeping into every corner of our society.

That's why it would have been better for everyone if he let this one slide.

Album Review: Neal Morse - Sola Gratia

This new album from Neal Morse is interesting on two levels. First is that this unlike the last three prog records he has made, this one is credited to Neal as a solo artist, and not The Neal Morse Band. This is mainly related to the quarantine reality of 2020, but it's a fact I happen to be a fan of. I put on a Neal Morse record to hear Neal, and while there's nothing wrong with Bill and Eric, I would rather have Neal providing all of the vocals. Second is that this record is titled as a spiritual successor to "Sola Scriptura", which is the most controversial album Neal has ever made.

Dipping back into telling the story of religion, Neal is at least giving us reason to recall "Sola Scriptura", which I don't think is a very good idea. While Neal has said it was never his intention, that record comes across as being highly anti-Catholic. The language was part of the protestant movement, but hearing Neal singing that the Catholic church is "the whore" was so out-of-character, petty, and unnecessary. Intentional or not, it didn't sit well with me. People as evangelical as Neal should be much more careful about making their denomination sound like the only 'true' one. Christianity is about acceptance and love, at least if you actually believe the words of Jesus and not the people who came after.

This record kicks off with lyrics about how Paul preached the truth long before Martin Luther nailed his theses to the door. Once again, that writes off more than a millennium of the Catholic church as being false, which is not an attractive position to take in the first sentences of a record.

The ties between the albums are hard to ignore when a few of the melodies from "Sola Scriptura" pop up as reprises here. That is fully intentional, which means you cannot completely separate this work from that one, both for good and bad.

As the record unfolds, the story to pay attention to is that this album follows the recent trend of Neal's works, with the majority of the songs being looser and with less immediate hooks than what I consider to be his peak years. There aren't any movements across this record as sticky and memorable as "Keep Silent" or "Already Home". When I think of Neal as a prog artist, his knack for blending pop melodies with prog is what stands at the top of the list, so the lack here is concerning.

The other thing I don't quite get is the insistence on being fully prog. If this is a concept album, and it's telling a story, the lengthy instrumental breaks, as well as the segue tracks, add nothing to the narrative. It's my take that an album trying to tell a story should be more tightly written, and should put the focus on the narrative, and not wander around in musical ideas that don't move those things along. 

I don't want to give the impression that this is a bad album, because it's not. What it is, however, is a disappointing album. I was expecting Neal to have dipped into his well of inspiration and come up with an album that rivals his earlier run of greatness. That didn't happen here. This record is named after "Sola Scriptura", but only carries on it's most questionable qualities. This record is structured like "?", but doesn't have a "Solid As The Sun" type song on it.

"Sola Gratia" is a middle-of-the-road Neal Morse album. It's perfectly solid, but there's a spark I find missing from it. Maybe this is the wrong way to judge an album, but if this was an evangelical statement, it certainly would not make me think about converting to Neal's faith. I have too many questions left lingering.

Maybe I'm over-thinking this whole thing.

Tom Araya; Retirement was a start, now go away for good

 Tom Araya, the now retired frontman of Slayer, shared a fake video on his social media intended to inject lies into the current presidential election. When it was pointed out that the video was fake, Araya laughed it off, which got me thinking. Slayer's entire modus operandi was trying to offend and/or piss people off, and what does it say about someone if they spend their entire adult life doing nothing but trying to upset other people?

Slayer are not alone in the music world in this respect. There are tons of bands out there who exist for no reason other than shock value. I have talked before about the genres of music that rely on bodily fluids and functions for all of their material, and I have long since written off giving any of them the time of day. But I'm interested in the psychology of being one of those people.

We get a short amount of time in this life to make the most of the opportunity. We can learn, we can love, we can create things that make us happy. Happiness is an infinite supply, with no limit on how many of us can experience it. So why would you spend your life bringing people down? Why would ruining someone else's life make yours better?

As Tom commented the last time he pulled a stunt like this, "Sometimes you do stuff like that just to piss people off."

No, you don't. Not if you're a good person. Not if you're not an utter asshole. Using your voice or your power to create strife, anxiety, and misery is not a laughing matter. It's the sort of thing a psychopath enjoys. When you are in a position where you can quietly enjoy your retirement, where you can use your voice to bring hope and comfort to the people your music has spoken to, and yet you choose to stoke division and intentionally inflame people's fears and worries, I'm not sure what that says about a person.

My armchair psychology would say it's projection. The people who feel the need to constantly offend, who want to piss off other people to enjoy watching their anger, are people who have no happiness of their own. They are people who have been taught to believe life is a zero sum game, that every ounce of joy someone else experiences is one they cannot have for themselves. We see the ultimate example of that in our current political climate, but it's a pervasive string of thought.

Slayer pushed people's buttons back in the 80s when they wrote "Angel Of Death". It was controversial to write a song about the Holocaust, but it was done in a way that challenged good taste, but was not done in an offensive manner. It was more documentary than commentary, and stayed on the proper side of what is acceptable. Over the years, however, Slayer would get worse and worse, with Kerry King writing lyrics that devolved into basically saying, 'fuck God'. He was trying to get a rise out of people, not say anything of importance. "Angel Of Death" was shining a light on the evil man is capable of, perhaps warning us to be wary of it creeping into our society ever again. By the time he was writing "Cult", calling Christianity just that, or "Payback", where he wrote about wanting to "beat you til you're just a fucking lifeless carcass", he had nothing to say.

Shock value isn't much different than any other addiction. Once Slayer found the rush that came from being the scary voice people didn't want you to hear, they had to continue pushing the boundaries to get that same reaction. No one wanted Slayer to become a band safe for fifty year-olds to take their kids to see, wearing branded knit hipster hats, yet that's exactly what happened. In order to avoid being the dad-bod of extreme music, Slayer kept pushing themselves, which left us with men beyond middle age who thought at the level of teenagers, who thought writing the equivalent of a fart joke was still edgy.

It's no wonder to see them travel on the dark side of politics, buying into conspiracy theories and the cynical belief that telling the big lie often enough will cow people into accepting it. The band that warned us about the horrors of Nazis has something in common with one of their core propaganda efforts.

Maybe Slayer never did lose their edge. After all, Nazism is still off-limits. Isn't it?

Album Review: Rising Steel - Fight Them All

I say this as someone who was not old enough to pay any attention to such things when they were at their zenith; I don't get the appeal of thrash metal. When I listen to most of those bands and albums, I hear musicians ripping through tracks where the main, and sometimes only, appeal is the speed. It was not a scene filled with memorable riffs of the Iommi kind, nor vocalists who could write or sing catchy melodies. If you didn't get caught up in the rapid speed, which I never have, thrash is not the most interesting of music.

Rising Steel is a new band that is crossing traditional metal with thrash, which takes a hackneyed sound and blends it with one that doesn't bring much else to the table. Their music is fast, but that word is a description of type, not quality. I have seen the confusion between them far too often. Saying music is 'heavy' or 'fast' is not an indication it's any good.

In this case, Rising Steel is playing music that is fast, but it isn't particularly interesting music. Their riffs are of the chugging variety, which can be fun, but over the course of an entire album I desperately want to hear the guitars do something more melodic. The best guitar riffs can be hummed or sung, and Rising Steel is far from being able to do that. So if the music isn't giving us a hook, the vocals must do all that work, and like in most thrash-adjacent genres, there isn't much melody to be found there either.

These songs are simple, which is fine, but the ideas relied upon aren't strong enough to serve as the tent-poles of winning songs. Emmanuelson's voice is a bit rough, and he over-sings to the point where whatever melodies might be there get steamrolled by his metal posturing. The entirety of this record comes across like a band trying desperately to prove how metal they are, when being metal has nothing to do with that very act. The traditional metal and thrash they are building their sound from are, by today's standards, relatively soft. They don't need to try to amp things up even further, but they do, and that is what makes it all so tiresome.

Look, plenty of you will hear this and love it, because obviously there is a large number of people who love anything that is fast and heavy. I know I'm an outlier when it comes to what I enjoy out of these genres. If you just want to spend a while having a band play hard and fast, this will fit the bill. But I look for something more, something that shows more deft skill and songwriting that will endure, and Rising Steel doesn't give me anything there. This record is too one-note for that, too average to care much about.