Album Review: GWAR - "The New Dark Ages"

Is it weird to suggest that GWAR is going back to their roots?  

It doesn’t seem strange to say when measured against the nearly forty-year career of the world’s favorite and longest-running shock rock band, but it does seem out of place when reflected against the mirror of GWAR, who have never been anything but GWAR.

Perhaps the greatest adjustment to the band’s aural idiom over the years was the transformation from a punk band into a metal band, which was initially the product of Cory Smoot (may he rest in peace.)  Musically, the band has never looked back from that flux point circa 2001, and it’s within reason to suggest that GWAR from that moment forward had become more than just an elaborate, can’t-miss stage show.

But what lay truly at the root of GWAR’s legacy is their ability to tell stories, whether that be an utterly ridiculous interpretation of the terribly mundane, or an utterly ridiculous, space-faring story of unfathomable silliness.  GWAR has perpetually been comfortable in both phases, and that’s been the backbone of all their success.  Lesser bands like Lordi have attempted to copy some aspects of GWAR’s implacable stage show, but without the context of the theater of the absurd, it all boils down to a bunch of grown men jumping around in molded foam and plastic.  

“The New Dark Ages” is GWAR’s best storytelling album in more than a decade, easily the most accomplished in this field since “Lust in Space,” and likely going all the way back to 2004’s “War Party.”  Thematically, we see GWAR again as anti-heroes, fighting off insidious forces from deep within the earth that seek to destroy humanity, etc.  

What made the narrative, for lack of a better term, on “War Party” work so well is that events on the real-life planet earth had come to a head in such a way that GWAR was able to easily craft an angry, expressive album.  Through the lens of GWAR’s comedic nonsense, it was easy to decipher the not-at-all-subtle message the band was trying to get across; that they were mad at a world gone crazy with an inexhaustible thirst for conflict, in all forms.

“The New Dark Ages,” by contrast, clearly emotes with obvious exhaustion.  Their first album in five years, and first since the global pandemic, sounds tired.  “Unto the Breach,” which given the band’s usual epic themes would stand to be a rousing metal mosher, is a chugging burn, sounding strained and strung out at even its most spry moments.  It’s as though not just the characters but the artists themselves are weary from picking up their weapons.

Continuing with the theme of throwing up one’s hands and throwing in the towel, “Unto the Breach” is followed by “Completely Fucked,” which actually is the album’s best cut.  It’s the sharpest song on the album, the place where GWAR seems to recover some of their stride and crafts a memorable and infectious riff that will carry the day in concerts for years to come.

Overall though, if it sounds like this review has been preparing to soften the blow, that’s because it is.  “The New Dark Ages” succeeds greatly in constructing a poignant message, but the music also, frankly, sounds tired.  This is as stripped-down and thin a GWAR production as there’s been in recent memory, in some regards taking them all the way back to the early days of low-budget punk.  “Venom of the Platypus” is a fun punk rawker for what it is, but that’s also all it is.

Pushing aside the frailties of the production, there’s nothing musically inspiring here.  Except for those mentioned above, the riffs are all common stock for punk or metal or hardcore, and they just sort of amble about while vocalist Blothar gathers us around the campfire for another depressing story.  Even singles like “Berserker Mode” are instantly forgettable, living in that worst-case scenario of purgatory where the songs are neither memorably good or memorably bad  “The New Dark Ages” possesses little snap, little fanfare, and lacks much of the tongue-in-cheek humor that has always made GWAR’s ongoing telling of the apocalypse seem like such fun.  It is also a startlingly long record, even without the eleven-minute throwaway outro of “Deus Ex Monstrum.”

It’s not hard to imagine why GWAR might be fed up with the whole bit at this point.  It’s fair to reason that nearly every person of comprehending age is world-weary for a variety of reasons, from the menial to the disappointing to the societally critical.  We’ve all been through a lot and even GWAR, at day’s end, is human.  So it makes sense that in 2017 GWAR was willing to rant and rage and sing “Fuck This Place,” and now in 2022, that fire has been quelled.

So in some part this even begs a bigger question: when all of us are looking for artists to pull us up out of the hole and give us some hope, who do the artists turn to for the same?  “The New Dark Ages” doesn’t offer us an answer.

Album Review: Donna Connone - Donna Cannone

I can get jaded by the number of people in music who are in multiple projects at the same time that all do very similar things. There's both a law of diminishing returns and familiarity breeding contempt, so at a certain point hearing what I've already hear so many times becomes tiring. In the case of Donna Cannone, the participation of Bjorn 'Speed' Strid does not fall into this category, because this is not just another band that he lends his voice to. He has become rather ubiquitous, but in this case he joined the band as a guitar player, which is the sort of shake-up that makes this interesting.

Or at least that was supposed to be the case. The rest of the band features a couple former members of Thundermother, a band I have to say has gotten better in their absence, if I'm being honest. Combined, the band's efforts sound a lot like The Night Flight Orchestra, but with just a hint less of the 'yacht rock' slickness to the mix. They are calling it power-pop, but we're splitting hairs what label we should use.

So why do I seem down on Strid's involvement? That is due to this band not really being as different from The Night Flight Orchestra as I was expecting, but also because that band's vocals sound a good deal like Strid's own, run through a filter. Even when he is not the dominant presence on a song, everything still has his feeling about it. That does away with much of the uniqueness I was looking for, and puts this album firmly in the camp of 'heard it before'.

The bigger problem, though, is that if this is what the band considers power-pop, it's lacking a whole lot of the 'pop' to it. Simply put, these songs aren't very catchy. They're trying, and it's not as if they want to be boring, but little about these compositions is going to hook you, or stand out as an earworm. The story goes that Strid heard the band practicing, and loved what he heard so much he had to join. I don't know what he heard, because I can't hear any of that on this record.

What I do hear is a record that sounds like the sort of thing a group of friends would have fun banging out in their rehearsal room. It doesn't feel like a fully fleshed-out record that knows what it wants to do, and has the ability to do it. "Is It True" is one of the softest numbers, and not only does that give it the strongest hook of the bunch, but it's a duet where Mia Karlsson's gravelly voice has tn times the character the band has on any other song. Perhaps bringing in a singer like her to front the band would have made all the difference. The band's identity is easier to hear when she is singing, and she's not even a member.

As a side-project, this is perfectly harmless stuff. It's a decent enough time to listen to, but because of who is involved, this record is going to get more attention than it probably should. It's decent at best, no matter what the pedigree behind it might be. I love great power-pop and pop-rock, and this isn't it.

Album Review: Spill Your Guts - "The Wrath It Takes"

 

Holy crap, this almost got past me.  Full disclosure, and at the risk of complaining, it’s hard to maintain a full life with all the associated occupations, responsibilities and relationships, and still keep abreast with all the movements in an ever-expanding and de-focused musical landscape.  Sometimes things fall through the cracks for a while.

Released just about a month ago, we come to Spill Your Guts’ new album “The Wrath it Takes,” the newest effort in blackened hardcore from a band hailing from just about every corner of the world.

Teamed up with the Scott Middleton, so recently departed from the Cancer Bats, Spill Your Guts offers up a refreshingly honest take on hardcore…through the lens of classic punk rock?

It sounds practically impossible, particularly with the additional adjective ‘blackened’ in the descriptor, but we have culturally moved far past the constraints of such restrictive genre definitions.  Just hit play on album opener “Die, Unified,” and you’ll see all the requisite elements performed in abundance.  And then, right there in the middle, as part of the hook, a melodic riff that sounds instantly familiar and reminds of the heady days of the Clash or Ramones, albeit better produced.  It’s just a small handful of notes, but it unlocks everything that happens before and after.

And then we come to “Reaper’s Toll,” and we’ve forgotten some of the pomp and circumstance of opening an album, but with good cause, as it makes way for the joyous smashing and banging of a mosh pit revival accompanied by a deep-seated groove that is difficult to shake.

We’ve only gone through two cuts at this point, and already “The Wrath It Takes” demonstrates versatility within its sphere.  The next two cuts offer variations on the theme – “Lift the Curse” could, frankly, be a Cancer Bats song, and then “Prey for Death” (which begins exactly the same as The Toadies’ “Heel,” just a touch faster, and I can’t break the connection in my head,) gives us what we were all expecting, a larger-than-life outro complete with easy scream-able lyrics that would make for good fist-pumping concert fodder.

What follows after that is more of the same, and I say that for efficiency’s sake, not as a discredit to the album.  If you’ve found something to like on the record to this point, you’ll enjoy the rest.  And if you haven’t found any aspect that appeals to your fancy, then it’s time to move on.

There is only one real pitfall on “The Wrath It Takes,” which is the song just about dead in the middle. “Blood Soaked Wolves.”  It’s the only song on the album that weighs in at more than three and a half minutes, which is fine, but by comparison to the rest of the record, this song is a screamy dirge, and it just plain carries on too long.  The point was made at the three minute mark, and after that we’re flagellating a deceased equine.  

But don’t let that minor criticism dissuade you from what otherwise is a fantastic experience.  Pick your associated genre: punk, hardcore, black metal, whatever – they could all use a shot in the arm, and Spill Your Guts, through their unique fusion of elements, offers just that.  It won’t be for everybody, as the performance is abrasive by its nature, but if you’re patient with it, there’s a lot to enjoy.

Album Review: MSG - Universal

With each passing year, I grow more annoyed at Michael Schenker. Despite being a legend among guitar players, anytime he opens his mouth, it's to run down how everyone who's ever picked up a guitar was copying him, especially his brother Rudolph. I get the impression he's never gotten over the fact that Scorpions have achieved far more fame and success, despite having the 'less' talented Schenker in their band. Michael does himself no favors when he keeps churning these albums out, with a new cast of characters helping him out, trying to make it look like something more interesting than yet another collection of his songs written just so he can solo.

This time around, Ronnie Romero gets to handle majority of the vocals, with Ralph Scheepers and Michael Kiske chiming in. Before even addressing the quality of the album, this combination leads to the single most head-scratching element of it all. "A King Has Gone" is a song dedicated to the memory of Ronnie James Dio. Leaving aside why he's chosen now to do that, when he has put out so much music between Dio's death and the present day, the song is not voiced by Romero, who even Ritchie Blackmore thought sounded enough like Dio to be the new frontman of Rainbow. How was the obvious not done here? I would say he shot himself in the foot, but he's so short-sighted in his decision making I'm not sure he could even hit that target.

Missing from the music this Schenker makes are riffs. You know riffs, right? Those are the things guitar players play that are heavy and memorable. Michael plays none of those of note. The riffs are mild chugging that mostly bide time until he gets to play his solo. Listen to "Under Attack" and tell me anyone involved cares. The whole thing is both played and sung with such little passion it's as if you can see them falling asleep as they record it. They then follow that up, after only two f'n songs, with forty seconds of bleepy, bloopy noise. What the hell?

The whole thing comes across to me as the sort of record made by someone who can't see past their own ego. I've heard Michael say before he doesn't listen to anyone else's music, so as not to taint his art, and it shows. Only someone who hasn't heard music in the last forty years would think this is impressive stuff. The aforementioned "A King Has Gone" has lyrics stitched together from old Dio songs. It's the sort of thing that was cool, the first time anyone thought to do it. It's been done to death so much it sounds lazy and out-of-touch. That's becoming a mantra here.

I haven't been fond of any of these records Schenker has been making recently, and this one doesn't break the mold. Whether it's the stale songwriting, the bad decisions, or the piss-poor vocals Scheepers delivers on "Wrecking Ball", the album tries my patience at every turn. With every one of these records, it makes Michael's ego harder and harder to put up with. He sounds more concerned with settling scores, and making sure people know the black-and-white Flying V is his look, than he does with making great music. His priorities aren't aligning with making records worth listening to.

There isn't much about this one to care about.

Singles Roundup: Avantasia, Pale Waves, Yours Truly, & MCR

We have some big names with new songs this week. But are they any good?

Avantasia - The Wicked Rule The Night

I'm not afraid to criticize those who have made so much of my favorite music, and that's the case here. The first song from a new Avantasia album cycle is here, and it's..... so depressing. First of all, it sounds far more like "Hellfire Club" era Edguy than it does Avantasia. That isn't a problem by itself, even if it does undercut Tobi's own rationale for Edguy no longer being active. The bigger issue is that the chorus of the song isn't very strong, which it needed to be, becaue Ralp Scheeper's shrieks his way through the verses with some deeply unpleasant sounding vocals. My first reaction was to turn the song off, and I don't see myself warming up to it. On first reaction, this is easily the weakest song ever released as an Avantasia single. If this is what the album has in store for us, it's a good thing I'm used to being disappointed.

Pale Waves - Lies

Album number three is coming this summer, and the first track from it seems to be pointing us in yet another direction. They had quite the change in sound from album one to album two, and while this one isn't as dramatic, it is still another shift that makes it hard to pin down who Pale Waves are. This is headed back in the synth direction of the debut, but with a completely different feeling behind it. This song is almost entirely driven by the mood,  as Heather gives us a vocal melody with little hook to it. It's as if the band is now purposely trying to make their music inaccessible as a response to the backlash their last album received. Whatever the reason, this is a dull song, and it portends more issues of identity the album probably won't be able to answer. I'm not looking forward to this one.

Yours Truly - Hallucinate

With a new EP now scheduled for release in July, this single is keeping the hype train rolling. Written to express what an anxiety attack sounds like, it finds the band continuing to sound darker than they did on "Self Care". While I wouldn't mind a bit more pop fun thrown into the mix, they're striking the right balance between confronting the ugly issues of life and sounding confident we can move past them. This isn't as addictive as "Composure" was as a single, but the upcoming EP still sounds like a possible highlight of the summer.

My Chemical Romance - The Foundations Of Decay

Oh boy. After more than a decade away, MCR has finally released a new song. Look, I like "The Black Parade" like everyone else, but I don't understand why the band are talked about as legends. Everything else they've done isn't that impressive to me, on its own or compared to their peers, and this song is further evidence a lot of people listen to music with their hearts and not their ears. If this wasn't MCR, it would never get any traction at all. It's six minutes of slow build, no hook, and a piss-poor mix. I would say the band is trolling the fans by intentionally putting out something terrible, as if to prove a point, but that would require me to think more (or is it less?) of them than I do. This song is terrible, and the love it has gotten is totally baffling.

Album Review: Evergrey - A Heartless Portrait

Oh look, it's another Evergrey album. For a band that has been around twenty-five years, they have done very little to ever impress me. There's a trifecta of things working against them. 1)They are now putting out albums too quickly, leaving me tired of them before I ever hear each new one. 2)They are the brand of 'progressive' metal that isn't progressive in any way, so I get frustrated trying to wrap my head around why our nomenclature is so stupid. 3)Tom Englund's voice rubs me the wrong way. I know he is widely regarded as one of the best singers in metal, but not to me.

This album adds a fourth issue that the last couple of records didn't have to worry about; production. While the guitars have all the mechanical heaviness you could want from a metal record of this kind, Tom's vocals are buried in the back of the mix, especially in the choruses, which leaves everything sounding small and muffled. What is supposed to be epic instead sounds tinny, and tiny, and I grow tired of straining my ears to make out what he's trying to sing.

The formula for this album should be more up my alley. The construction of the songs is closer to the "Torn" era, which is looked down upon by a lot of fans, but it's when the focus on tight songwriting was strongest. These songs don't meander nearly as much as many of the recent records, but having the hooks come out sounding this flat defeats the entire purpose. It certainly makes it harder to embrace a song like "Ominous" where the chorus is so bland. Instead of being a change of pace, it merely uses a different shade of boring to paint with.

The title track gives us a horribly stilted segue from the verse to chorus, where it sounds like two separate songs being grafted together with duct tape, with the band trying to pass it off as if it was meant to be that way. A times, it feels like they think as long as they have a heavy riff and Tom wailing, nothing else matters. It's true that there will be people who can look past all the rest, because they enjoy the Evergrey sound. That isn't a very convincing argument to me.

Perhaps the issue stems from Tom's side project, Silent Skies, where everything is ambient and subtle. That subtlety of melody turns into a flat-line when the music amps up to Evergrey's metallic roar, and that makes up a majority of the album. "Heartless" is a really good song, but it's the outlier, as more of the record falls into the mediocrity of "Call Out The Dark", where the entire chorus is flatly repeating the title. I think I know what the band is going for, but they are so far off the mark it's hard to know for sure.

Every time I listen to Evergrey, it's a matter of what direction the flaws will take me. They have corrected course in some respects, but drifted away in others. Like always, Evergrey is a band with a great sound, but in search of great songs.

Album Review: James LaBrie - Beautiful Shade Of Grey

When it comes to the modern version of metal, the one that fuses Soilwork's melodic death metal foundation with a heightened sense of pop melody, there are few example of it being done better than the last two James LaBrie solo albums. That might sound strange if all you know of him is Dream Theater, but his recent solo work has been an amazing reinvention, and showed there is far more to him than he is required to be in his main gig. "Impermanent Resonance" is one of the most perfect metal records of recent years, and is a personal favorite, which makes this new album an interesting deviation.

Despite having that winning formula, this album sees James working with a new songwriter, and taking a new approach. Gone is the aggressive chugging, and instead we get lush acoustic guitars. Gone are the occasional barked vocals, and instead we get soft melodies. I know James has said he considered those previous albums to be a 'band effort', and only used his own name because it would get more attention, but that decision now makes this album seem curious when perhaps it shouldn't.

We heard this on "Devil In Drag", where the bluesy riff is played on an acoustic guitar, when I could easily hear it being turned into a djent-ish monster akin to the last albums. Instead, James and his band on this record decide to play things easier, focusing on harmonies and an older vibe. There are even hints of Opeth's softer moments, especially in the short turnaround guitar figure right before the solo. The song could be thought of as something from "Damnation", if it was a sunny day album instead of one obscured by rain clouds.

With softer instrumentation, there's more room in the mix for James' voice, and he sounds fantastic. These songs fit right in the sweet spot of his range, and he doesn't have to oversing to stand out, so he is able to shine in a way we don't always hear in Dream Theater.

There's another comparison that comes right to mind. Earlier this year, Neal Morse, Ross Jennings, and Nick D'Virgilio also released a song-based album that was primarily acoustic. Listening to the two albums back-to-back, there's an obvious similarity in the prog legends going softer, but also a drastic difference in the approach they take. James' record is more somber and dotted with pensive melodies and emotional guitar solos, while the album the other three produced was more joyous and veered more into 'dad rock' territory. Both sound like guys of their age knowing who they are, but one is trying to be more fun, while the other is trying to resonate more. While I enjoyed "Troika", I have to say the stronger focus at tugging on the heart-strings James LaBrie is engaged in speaks to me more.

But it isn't just James doing the heavy lifting here. The catharsis on "Hit Me Like A Brick" is absolutely the fluid guitar solo, which releases all the tension of the song in its weeping, clean-ish tone, letting the last run through the chorus be a joyous refrain. That's a perfect example of a guitar solo adding to the song, and not feeling like a required piece that is there mostly for the guitar player's ego. The payoff wouldn't be the same without it.

I have a feeling this album is going to wind up being divisive. I'm not sure how many Dream Theater fans are going to embrace an album that is dominated by acoustic guitars like this, where the 'heaviness' comes in the form of atmosphere and emotion. James' metal fan base might have issues here, but not me. This is exactly the sort of change-of-pace I love. For as much as another album like "Impermanent Resonance" would be amazing, this record is all the better for being something unique. You can't put this on and mistake it for another James LaBrie effort, nor can you say it's running through the standards. It's something fresh and new, and it also happens to be done exceedingly well. Going back to what I was saying earlier, this is the record I was hoping "Troika" would be.

"Beautiful Shade Of Grey" is an album I can play again and again, and get swept up in the beauty of the melodies, and the melancholic swells the album bathes in. Grey is a color that can be flat and soul-sucking, or shimmer with the riches of silver, depending on which light you view it in. I'm seeing the latter, and maybe you will too.

Album Review: The Bateleurs - The Sun In The Tenth House

As I have talked about before, there's a question whether the classic rock of the 70s is timeless because of something innate to itself, or because it is an evolutionary starting point fixed in both time and our consciousness. It was a more organic time for music, even if it was still a business, perhaps because it was a business that was working for the artists. Whatever the case, the 70s continues to be the blueprint by which much of what the layperson calls rock and roll live by. All you need is a guitar, perhaps an organ, and a singer who can fill the space with their power.

That is the formula for The Bateleurs, who imbue the spirit of the 70s into their sound. You can hear the grain of overdrive on their guitars as they run through the well-worn blues scales, and the vocals steamroll over everything with immense power. There is more than a pinch of Led Zeppelin to what they are doing, but the advances of technology mean no Zeppelin record ever sounded this fierce and immense. The hints of distortion that creep in around the edges are remnants of a band giving it their all, not one trying to fake passion by turning up the dials.

I love "All We Are" for its bluesy sing-along chorus, and how the song throws in a swampy choir as the break, fully recognizing what the original church of the blues would sound like. The music keeps a dirty edge to it, not sounding so clean it loses its fire, but also not gritty in a way that is brittle. It's a fine line to balance, and they master the high-wire act.

The same thing was true of Blues Pills' first album, which is where my thoughts tend to go listening to The Bateleurs. Both groups were taking the bluesy side of classic rock, using it as a canvas for howling vocals that go far and above what almost any of the men in the genre are capable of. The difference is that Blues Pills was taking more from the slower and more mystical bits, while The Bateleurs are a full-on power blues band. This album hits hard, and doesn't let up. The sound is loud, the songs are pounding, and this is the kind of blues that is more righteous than sad.

How can you listen to "I'll Go All The Way" and not get caught up in the communal power the sound would have had back in the day? Zeppelin may have been more artsy, but they would have a hard time matching the power that comes from some of the rousing choruses The Bateleurs trade in. That's the reason I have never counted myself as a Zeppelin fan, and The Bateleurs are justifying my contrarianism. Hearing a similar sound done this way, with what I would consider stronger and more focused songwriting, tells me I shouldn't settle with regard to my taste. The Bateleurs have all the power of the past, but they do it with a care for song-craft I don't hear very often from the originators of the style.

The way the balladic swing of "City Of Lights" builds into that epic descending melody is darn near perfect. The band uses the extreme dynamics to build a song that not only crests like the tide, but is perfectly placed to break up the album from becoming overwhelming. It's just beautiful exploitation of everything the blues can be, and while it might not take the same winding path "Stairway To Heaven" does, it sounds just as gargantuan, just in a different way.

By the time the record plays out, I am quite impressed with The Bateleurs. They have power, they have passion, and they have nuance to their songwriting. They take the conventions of blues-rock, and they elevate them to something we seldom get to hear. At the beginning, I wondered why classic rock is timeless. When I'm listening to an album like this, and a band like this, it's not hard to understand. There really is nothing dated about talented musicians plugging in and rocking out. As long as you have the songs to back it up, it's a formula that is always going to work.

On "The Sun In The Tenth House", it is shining brightly on The Bateleurs. They are making a hugely promising statement.

Quick Reviews: Coreleoni, Skills, & Visions Of Atlantis

Today, let's take a look at three new albums I have something to say about, but not enough for a full-length review.

Coreleoni - III

These sorts of things confuse me. Coreleoni was formed to play covers of Gotthard songs, but now they're playing their own original music. That means their third album isn't really their third album, since the first two were mostly old stuff they were recycling. That's not quite as confusing as when Fozzy switched from being a covers band to an original one, but it's still odd branding. Not that anyone knows who Coreleoni are, but if you happen to have heard the name before, you would be led to thinking this is another album of retreads. But I'm not a marketing genius, so maybe there's something in this I'm missing.

As for the music, there isn't a lot to say. These may be original songs, but they sound like covers. Everything about the album sounds like it was ripped from the past. The songwriting has all the hallmarks of the 80s, especially in the way many of the vocal lines don't even bother trying to be a melodic chorus. It was the way songs were written when rock was in its youth, and I hated it then. I still hate it now.

"Greetings From Russia" is one of the most ill-timed songs of the year. Maybe that lack of insight is illustrative of the entire album, which throws yet another band on the endless roster of them who are retreading the past without adding anything at all new to the mix. These sorts of records are made for die-hard fans of the past, but as we know, those are the very people who don't listen to new music anymore. So who is this for? That's a good question, and after listening to this record, I can't answer it.

Skills - Different Worlds

Yet another 'supergroup', Skills can't live up to that billing, because the most identifiable part of their sound is a relative unknown. Billy Sheehan and Brad Gillis are 'names', even if they haven't been part of many conversations since the late 80s, but it's singer Renan Zonta who makes this group sound like any of the other anonymous new bands, rather than something led by veteran talent. Since Sheehan is in this band, we can draw a comparison to The Winery Dogs, who burst out of the gate with some real fanfare. It's not hard to see why that band was an immediate success, while this one will only be making a second album to prove the first one wasn't a failure.

The Winery Dogs had charisma, and sounded like a band having a ton of fun throwing down some rock songs to distract themselves from their main gigs. Skills doesn't have either of those things. Zonta is a fine singer, but he doesn't have the same level of charisma in his voice, and the songs are played so well they sound more robotic than passionate. It's not bad, by any means, but it doesn't have the spark to make me believe in what they're doing. It sounds too much like musicians going through the motions.

Visions Of Atlantis - Pirates

I don't know why so many romanticize pirates. That life was brutally hard, listing on the choppy ocean under a pounding sun, hoping not to be killed when stealing from another ship. And that was assuming you didn't get scurvy and lose a leg, an eye, or both. Pirate life sucked, and it doesn't have any connection to symphonic metal, so I'm rather puzzled Visions Of Atlantis chose to plaster that imagery on their new album.

"We embrace who we are and we can state it in the eyes of everyone that we are Pirates now", is what the band says. Um... I know they're probably trying to say they are completely untethered to expectations, and are 'doing their own thing', but comparing yourself to murderous thieves isn't going to win many people over to your personalities. I don't want to draw any conclusions about them as people, but their choices are pointing me in the wrong direction.

As for the album, it's solid stuff. It sounds grand and epic, with the symphonic bits adding scope to the metal skeletons, and giving more context for Clementine's semi-classical vocals. Songs like "Melancholy Angel" and "Clocks" have big, rousing choruses that will be sure to please. I don't think the album keeps the momentum up all the way through, but the highlights are certainly worth hearing. If it wasn't for the unfortunate focus on pirates, this would be a charming record.

Album Review: Cancer Bats - "Psychic Jailbreak"

Bear with us for a moment here, because we’re going to begin by not talking about the album in the headline that grabbed your attention.

Many genres of music, but most prominently rock and rap, are at their level best when the band is capable of telling a story with some weight.  Whether that was the ethereal wish for better days espoused by folk music sixty years ago, or the explosion of politically-motivated rap in the late ‘80s and into the ‘90s, wordcraft and messaging have served as a vehicle for artists to succeed, different but equal from the place upon which pure musical talent has catapulted so many others.

Punk and metal have their own entries into this manner of storytelling, though it is worthy of admission that their history with introspection and poignancy is somewhat more infantile than many of the laudable artists of the past.  That doesn’t mean that The Clash or Nuclear Assault were any less impactful or important than luminaries like Public Enemy or Buffalo Springfield, it just means that they lacked for a certain subtlety.

Yet, hardcore, the alleged fusion of punk and metal into a single being, has never been as willing to go into messaging beyond the superiority of the individual and the basic, endemic struggle to survive.  (With the noted of exceptions of bands like Earth Crisis or Cattle Decapitation, single-issue candidates who are overbearing in their insistence.)

And now we come to the Cancer Bats and their new album “Psychic Jailbreak.”  The Bats are that most unique of all hardcore bands (perhaps in some part because of their ability to bend the conventions of genre,) which is to say that they are an artist who has things to say.

This is really the power of “Psychic Jailbreak.” Vocalist Liam Cormier, possessed as ever of his casual, out-of-tune, half-screamed style, manages to wend through a vocal wordplay that impresses with its creativity and delivery.  There’s a lot of themes tackled here, many of them dealing with internal torment, as has become fashionable for aggressive music over the last decade or so.  In any event, the Bats separate themselves by demonstrating that all their songs say something.  Personal or universal, there are yarns being spun here.

But Cormier writes his lyrics outside the margins, often refusing an easy rhyme to make sure he’s picked the words he wants.  To wit, in “Pressure Mind” towards the end of the album, he bites out “Here we are, another day and nothing's changing / Thousand miles starring with my eyes wide / What's the plan asking in the mirror daily / It's 3am, TV is my best friend.”  Other than a regular cadence, there’s little there to suggest that this is lyrical verse.  In some regard, this pattern is similar to the great songs of Clutch, where Neil Fallon essentially just tells a folksy story that happens to be set to music.

Seldom does the lister to “Psychic Jailbreak,” have to decipher dense patterns of metaphor, like one would with countrymates Rush, but that it to the record’s benefit – density, as discussed above, would be ill-suited to this, and would stain the elegant simplicity of Cormier yelling repeatedly in “The Hoof” “my life was saved by a skateboard.”

Within all of this is the reality that this is also the Bats’ first album as a three-piece.  With longtime guitar player Scott Middleton departing and bassist Jaye Schwarzer doing double duty, there was some question as to what this record would sound like, and if the Bats could keep their reputation for catchy, accessible riffs couched within all the standard discordant cacophony that the band employs.

The answer to this is mixed.  “Lonely Bong,” probably the album’s best single effort viewed through the traditional Cancer Bats lens, still rumbles along with a simple, repeatable riff that hooks the attention and carries into the big singalong chorus.  This has been the bread and butter for Cancer Bats for the past fifteen years, and it feels just as accomplished here.

There are, however, fewer moments such as those, where the music feels familiar and within the mold of the band.  Which does serve to make “Psychic Jailbreak” diminished relative to the sublime, full-octane presentations of “Dead Set on Living” or “The Spark That Moves,” which were both vital and defiant and vitriolic.

Instead, we are faced with a new Cancer Bats model, and in that vein, the album’s real gem might be “Hammering On,” a borderline stoner metal slog sang entirely as a duet with indie rock songwriter Brooklyn Doran.  Cancer Bats have played in small pieces with this model over the years, but never given in full-bore to this kind of song.  It’s a haunting and absorbing piece that speaks to the band’s adaptability and shines perhaps a small light on what this next phase of the band may be.

In summation, we see Cancer Bats focusing on one of their most unique qualities, their storytelling, as their other principal talent, that of writing infectious riffs, may be under reconstruction.  In the end, is “Psychic Jailbreak” as sublimely excellent as “Dead Set on Living” or “The Spark That Moves?”  No, it probably isn’t.  Especially not if the listener’s goal is to bash around and forget their troubles to some joyous, unconscionably loud music.  That said, it’s a different kind of record, and should be enjoyed for what it is, for it has many excellent moments.

Singles Roundup: Jorn, Michael Monroe, MSG, & Leauxx

Once again, it's time to see what some snack-sized pieced of music have to tell us about the larger narrative.

Jorn - Over The Horizon Radar

It feels like Jorn has been away for quite a while, which is a bit of a rarity these days, when everyone is in three bands that are constantly releasing music. The break is welcome, and I certainly am excited to hear his voice again, but the time has not been well spent. Jorn's solo albums have been fairly bland for quite a while, and this song is no different. It has the right sound, but the melodies don't connect with me. What's weirdest is Jorn himself, as his voice sounds like it has aged considerably since last we heard him. That is the story of the album, as I can tell you the 'issue' carries through it. How disappointing, yet inevitable.

Michael Monroe - Can't Stop Falling Apart

What I love most about the last two records Michael Monroe has put out is the sense of fun. Rock doesn't give me that feeling often, but his band is one of the few that feels like they're having a good time. This song fits that bill, with the gang vocals (something I usually don't like) truly coming across like a band shouting in joy as they play. The hints of acoustic guitar and piano give the track depth, and it all adds up to a rollicking little number that evokes the 70s without ever sounding dated. Looking backward and forward at the same time is hard, yet this band has been able to do it. From the sound of things, they're about to do it again.

MSG - A King Has Gone

The first time someone wrote a song where the lyrics were all references to someone else, it was creative. The next time, it was still cool. Now that it has happened countless times, it is derivative, and it also feels pretty lazy. Why write new words, when we can just take words someone else wrote? That's what this song is, as it makes countless references to the works of Ronnie James Dio. It's an odd thing to do the song now, after all this time, and with neither Schenker nor Kiske having ties to Dio. Maybe it really is heartfelt, but it's a bland song that doesn't come across the way they want it to. The album press calls it a career highlight, but if it is, that pen is out of ink.

Leauxx - Hungry

A new year brings a new approach. Leauxx leaves behind the grittier rock of her previous singles, instead using electronic elements to build the atmosphere of this song. That does two things. First, it gives her voice more room in the mix, so she doesn't have to belt the whole song. There is a dynamic to her voice, where the desperation of the lyric is better able to come through because of the approach. Second, it gives the song a sense of subtlety. By being quieter, not only is her voice not pushing as much, but neither is the melody. It's a song of atmosphere instead of power, of feeling instead of hooks. It's an interesting experiment, but I'm missing some of the gravity her powerhouse voice gave her previous songs.

Album Review: Jeff Scott Soto - Complicated

Complicated is a solid word to use to describe Jeff Scott Soto's career, since he has been on so many albums it's difficult to keep them all straight, and to remember which bits are the ones you liked. In recent years, his albums with W.E.T. have been the highlights, with his solo albums sitting in the middle, and Sons Of Apollo's two albums being the most disappointing. What strikes me as being the oddest thing, however, is that his voice sounds completely different depending on who wrote the songs and engineered the recordings.

This album sees him teamed up with the Frontiers melodic rock factory, which as a sentence is enough to suffice as an entire review. Their songwriting is so ubiquitous this album sounds just like so many others, with Soto's voice interchanged for any of the other singers who will get similar records this year. What then strikes me rather immediately is that Soto doesn't sound as good on this record as he does with W.E.T., which seems to be a bit of a pattern now. I can't tell if it's a slight bit of distortion on the recording, or if Soto is being pushed to sing harder than his voice naturally fits, but the clarity and sheen for melodic rock is a bit missing.

With the album feeling so familiar, the charisma of the vocals is the main selling point. These songs are all melodic, to be sure, but they seldom hook me in or feel like they are going to be memorable. In fact, often everything is pushed loud enough that it feels like the performers are trying to convince themselves that if they just put a bit more 'oomph' into the recording, the songs are going to be better. They oversell at times.

It's disappointing to be saying this, because Soto is a talented singer, and I do like what his voice is capable of. His work with W.E.T. is fantastic, and the duet he took part in with Black Rose Maze was one of my favorite songs in 2020. If he's given the right songs, and produced the right way, he can absolutely be the voice of an amazing record. That's not what this one is. This is another album of perfectly find melodic rock I can't say I'm really excited about. There are so many of them, and they all fill the same space, you know the drill by now. This is a nice way to spend a few minutes, and there are three or four songs you might want to come back to, but this album will soon be replaced in your thoughts with the next similar one.

There's nothing about this album that turns me off, but there's also nothing about it that would make me put it on instead of one of the W.E.T. albums. They fill the same niche, and one has that 'it' factor the other doesn't, it almost makes me wonder why a solo album like this is being released if it isn't doing something new. It's more of the same, and that's entirely the problem.

Album Review: Halestorm - Back From The Dead

Over the last few years, we have all been 'through something'. I'm not sure any of us can honestly say we experienced everything the world has endured without it having any effect on our mental health. That phrase has always been rather opaque, because what counts as 'healthy' is a moving target we often have only the most tenuous of grips on. No matter how well we know ourselves, no matter how much confidence we project outwardly, being cut off from so much we loved was going to stop the world so the black clouds hang over our heads. Halestorm's last album, "Vicious", was a statement of power and self-love, where Lzzy Hale was owning her identity, and we were able to absorb her confidence to use as our own.

That was a main reason "Vicious" earned Album Of The Year honors from me, but we are now living in very different times, and we need a new message to match. "Back From The Dead" is the soundtrack to Lzzy rediscovering herself after the rock and roll machine was shut down, digging deeper into herself to find what was beneath her rock star life. This album is the most honest statement yet of Lzzy as a human being.

The title track opens the record as a defiant statement about not letting our troubles get the best of us. When it feels like we might slip into the abyss, it takes strength, and sometimes a little help, to find our way back into the light. The power of music is one of those things Lzzy used to align the stars back in her favor, using the power of her huge voice and the massive riff to push so much air the vacuum of space wasn't big enough to stop the waves from traveling. It's as much a mission statement as a song intended to be a single; a song that reminds us a grave can sit unoccupied for ages, used for other purposes until its time. Perhaps Lzzy is using it as a flower bed for now.

Mental health is a heavy topic, and the record takes that to heart, being the heaviest and rawest record Halestorm has ever made. This is the sound of the band as a live experience, the pure distillation of cranked amps and massive vocals as a force for communal good. Lzzy doesn't use her cleanest voice much on the record, using her grit to sand away the polish we cover ourselves in to hide the truth. It's the perfect approach with the record being this heavy. "Vicious" was more biting, while "Back From The Dead" is more stomping. The grooves and rhythms are a slow crush, leaving enough time between every head bang to feel our necks straining at the limit of our flexibility.

"The Steeple" is Lzzy's love letter to rock, and to the fans, where she tells us it is her relationship with music that is her religion. Music is what she has faith in, and the power of rock is sometimes easier to believe in than anything else. Ok, that part is me reading too much into things, but it's hard not to listen to her voice belting out the last note of the song and not feel like she is being baptized in the fires of rock and roll. It isn't 'scream therapy', but it might have the same purpose, just better focused.

On "Terrible Things", Lzzy looks at all that is wrong in the world, but she realizes she is not one of those things as long as she confronts the demons in herself. It is only when you run from them that you lose your power, you lose your good name. So long as you are pushing to move forward, the progress is less important than the effort. That is echoed in "My Redemption", where Lzzy understands it is only her own opinion of who she is that matters. We don't need to save her, or forgive her. She only needs to embrace who she is to be her true self, and no other voice can ever give a better compliment than her own.

That's where "Bombshell" lands, as Lzzy tells us no one is ever going to shut her up, because she understands the power she holds in her position, and she plans to use it. We can read this as Lzzy's confidence reaching full flight, or as Lzzy continuing on in her advocacy for women in the world of rock. It works in both contexts, because the artist's voice is often overlooked in favor of soundbites and images. But it's in that image, when it generates such interest, that the message can best be conveyed.

"Back From The Dead" is a cathartic experience for Lzzy, and that focus on personal realization results in the band's most cohesive album yet. There are fewer twists and adjustments to their sound from song to song, instead pummeling us with a record that will come to life on the stage. "Back From The Dead" is a record that knows tearing down the walls we erect isn't a job for nuance and subtlety. We have to bulldoze the past to find the seeds of the future, and that is what Lzzy does in these songs. A journey back from the dark side was never going to have the innuendo of their debut album, or the pop polish of "The Strange Case Of...", or the sexy attitude of "Vicious".

This record is different, but it's exactly what it needs to be. Lzzy's honesty shines through, and no matter how hard the journey might be, she has come out the other side a wiser and more mature woman. Lzzy is back, Halestorm is back, and they still believe in the healing magic of rock.

Album Review: Fozzy - Boombox

Fame is its own inertia. Once you achieve it, you almost have to work to lose the momentum of people already knowing your name. That does happen, but for the most part you see the same names continue to populate the mainstream. Do we think that's because those are all the best artists, and they never do any wrong? Of course not. Once we're comfortable with someone, they get attention and chart positions simply because people are already aware of them.

That's what happened with Fozzy. Are they a good band? No. Are they a terrible band? No. They're blandly average, but because Chris Jericho is famous, they have gotten a level of attention (and acclaim) that far exceeds their musical worth. They're just taking advantage of the system, so it's not that I'm blaming them. I'm just saying no matter how many times you might hear one of these songs on the radio in the next few months, Fozzy is probably only popular because of a generation of wrestling fans.

Or perhaps the mainstream really is the lowest common denominator. Either way, "Judas" became a major rock radio hit, despite it being merely an ok song. All the limitations of Fozzy were on display, but the slick pandering pulled people in just like a heel's promo makes you want to buy a ticket to watch him get his ass kicked. And now that Fozzy is a main event act in the rock world (did I really just say that?), it doesn't really matter what this album has to offer. Bands only move down the bill when they are truly and forever out of gas.

Fozzy is all in on playing for another radio hit. If you remember the early days of the band, when they weren't sure if they were a melodic band, a heavy band, or a prog band, the focus they now show is actually a positive development. But what they are focused on sounds so foreign to what the beginnings of the band were, I'm not sure I can say this all feels genuine. What started as a love of 80s rock and metal is now competing with Five Finger Death Punch for our attention.

The band has (I assume) brought in help on the songwriting front, and they've hit all the marks of popular radio rock. They fit perfectly with the Shinedowns of the world, and there are multiple songs here that will probably get plenty of airplay. "Sane" already does, and "I Still Burn" will serve quite well as a softer song that isn't a ballad, even if I find the backing vocal/synth line at the end of the chorus extremely annoying. It's the right kind of inoffensive to not annoy anyone.

"Purifier" is one of the best songs, with a quite heavy opening riff, and then a melodic chorus that makes the best use of Jericho. For as long as Fozzy has been around, I have not been won over by his voice, and every time they try to go down the heavier route, it just doesn't work for me. His tone has always struck me as odd, and his voice is too thin to compete with a band playing at full blast. Then add on what sounds like plenty of auto-tune on the chorus of "Army Of One", and it seems like at every turn there's something about Fozzy that catches your ear in the wrong way.

The intro to "Ugly On The Inside" is another of those moments, where Jericho is going for an almost Peter Steele approach on the first few lines, but the warble doesn't sound cool at all being an octave higher. Those are vocals I would have left on the cutting room floor. Actually, the whole song should have been, since the chorus is pathetic even for school children. Jericho spells out the playground taunt, "U.G.L.Y., you ain't got no alibi". I have another four-letter word I want to shout back at him. He's in his fifties, and thinks this is cool stuff. I'm just embarrassed.

Then "Relax" follows as the most repetitive song on the album. I don't even know if it's even a song, since it sounded like one droning line over and over until something that's supposed to be a chorus comes along. It sounds like the result of a writing session after everyone has already gotten drunk, and they don't have the attention span to stay awake long enough to remember they're even writing a song. It shows the gap between the good songs and bad songs on this album is a chasm. You can easily tell what the singles will be, and which songs are just there so they have a record to promote on tour.

So here's the deal; Fozzy has three or four strong songs on this record that, aside from being generic, do everything you want from radio rock. Those songs are worth listening to, and I won't say otherwise. As an album, however, Fozzy has disappointed yet again. "Boombox" feels inauthentic, it feels pandering, and the filler is so bad I can't excuse it. Whatever you hear on your radio is all the Fozzy you'll need to hear.