From the mean
streets of Brooklyn, NY comes Players Club, a band with loads of promise...that
just doesn't seem to come together. The pieces are there. The music, in
particular, has a lot of the elements of great hard rock: a brutal low end,
chunky runs, and bone-crushing riffs that remind me of Rage Against the Machine
recorded by Black Sabbath's producer. The vocals, however, are lame, incoherent
screaming that the producer (mercifully) keeps mixed well into the background.
The songs, also, never seem to go anywhere. The individual riffs are good, but
they just kind of chug along, with no build or crescendo. The one saving grace
on here is the song "Safety World", where the bands leaves it's mindless metal
thrashing to actually break out some melodic vocals and song structure. It's
not really enough to save the album, though. The Heathen Hippy gives it two
buried screams. (Taliesin Govannon)
Every
Turbonegro album starts out with a track aptly titled "Intro", so when I saw
their newest offering was no exception, I figured I was in for a treat. Usually
there's some fancy guitar noodling and it gets you excited for what you're about
to hear. On the newest lead-in track, they seem to ditch their rock and roll
masturbation sessions for a computer voice and a heavy, almost rap-metal beat. I
knew this wasn't going to be a typical Turbonegro album. After the lame-ass
introduction, they kick in with an Apocalypse Dudes-esque rocker called "All My
Friends Are Dead" that renewed my faith in the band. Unfortunately, it seems
like for every good minute on this CD, there's two bad minutes. "City of Satan"
clocks in at 5:44 and is lame from start to finish. There's a handful of pretty
awesome songs on here, but the rest of them just seem like recycled songs from
the past two albums. The saving grace of Party Animals is the last track, "Final
Warning". Not only is it one of the best on the album, but it ends a CD that if
nothing else, is uninspired. Don't get me wrong, the catchy riffs and killer
solos aren't lost on the band, it's just that this offering just doesn't evoke
the kind of fist-pumping reaction that other Turbonegro albums seem to be able
to coax out of me. No matter how high I cranked my dog-eared JBL's, the music
always fell at my feet instead of hitting me in the head. (Adam LaSota)
Wednesday 13 is
probably best known as vocalist for The Murderdolls. Since that band had to
take a break (their guitar player is also in Slipknot), Wednesday decided to put
out a solo album. I’ll be honest, I’ve never heard The Murderdolls so I don’t
know how this compares. What I can tell you is the sound of this album is very
reminiscent of eighties glam rock, but with downtuned guitars and a little more
heaviness in general. The attitude is kinda’ glam rock, too, in that first and
foremost this is meant to be a fun record. It’s just that the sort of fun
Wednesday has in mind is way more morbid than anything an eighties hair metal
band ever sang about. It comes across as refreshingly different, and a nice
change of pace from all the grimly serious metal and hard rock bands out there
today. I wouldn’t say it’s a great album, but fans of glam rock who appreciate
a streak of black humor in their music should dig it. (Bob Ignizio)
Jack White's
mellowing out. I can understand why, I mean, having sex with a 70 year-old
woman...something's gotta rub off. Besides the dust, anyways. I don't think
he's sitting around watching Matlock all day, but this album is pretty far
removed from the raw power of their self-titled debut. Don't expect an "Astro"
or even a "You Have No Faith In Medicine." The closest this album comes to
that sort of energy comes on "Red Rain" and "Instinct Blues," but that's not a
bad thing. The first two songs establish that this is going to be a different
album. There's very little of the blues sound that is so prevalent in most
Stripes' songs on "Blue Orchid." Jack's singing higher than ever, the riffs are
very angular, and there's absolutely no swing in the beat; the only things that
are reassuring and familiar are the steady explosions issuing from Meg White.
"The Nurse" almost sounds too much like it's trying to be different. I like
how the song plays with structure, but, like that kid at school who wears the
"You laugh at me because I'm different, I laugh at you because you're all the
same" t-shirt, it's trying a little too hard. Speaking of structure, this album
is less Iggy and more Beefheart. It's hard not to hear the Captain's influence
on songs like "Take, Take, Take" with it's strange, jerky change from verse to
chorus. If only Jack could do the Howlin Wolf impression.... He does take
things back to the blues on, well, "Instinct Blues." I love the production on
this song in particular. Every time Jack yells at the beginning of the chorus,
I get that “awesome-rock-moment” rush. "Red Rain" also sounds like traditional
Stripes material. The only difference is that on earlier albums the
composition probably would have been simpler and gone more for the
soft/loud/soft type of sound. "Little Ghost" makes use of the multi-layering of
vocals to much better effect than Elephant's "There's No Home For You Here."
This song is most distinctly the product of how much clout Jack White has with
his record label right now. I can't imagine a new artist putting a bluegrass
song on their album alongside songs like "The Nurse", "Instinct Blues", and
"Doorbell." Some ad wizard would complain that you can't market something
that's so all over the place. The best part about this album is that you really
don't know what to expect next, and I can't say that about many albums.
Composition wise and content wise, this album is a direct reflection of two
people getting a little bit older. Anyways, I’m glad they're showing their age
a bit. Fat Mike looks dumber every year. (Tim Piunno)
From the mean
streets of Brooklyn, NY comes Players Club, a band with loads of promise...that
just doesn't seem to come together. The pieces are there. The music, in
particular, has a lot of the elements of great hard rock: a brutal low end,
chunky runs, and bone-crushing riffs that remind me of Rage Against the Machine
recorded by Black Sabbath's producer. The vocals, however, are lame, incoherent
screaming that the producer (mercifully) keeps mixed well into the background.
The songs, also, never seem to go anywhere. The individual riffs are good, but
they just kind of chug along, with no build or crescendo. The one saving grace
on here is the song "Safety World", where the bands leaves it's mindless metal
thrashing to actually break out some melodic vocals and song structure. It's
not really enough to save the album, though. The Heathen Hippy gives it two
buried screams. (Taliesin Govannon)
Every
Turbonegro album starts out with a track aptly titled "Intro", so when I saw
their newest offering was no exception, I figured I was in for a treat. Usually
there's some fancy guitar noodling and it gets you excited for what you're about
to hear. On the newest lead-in track, they seem to ditch their rock and roll
masturbation sessions for a computer voice and a heavy, almost rap-metal beat. I
knew this wasn't going to be a typical Turbonegro album. After the lame-ass
introduction, they kick in with an Apocalypse Dudes-esque rocker called "All My
Friends Are Dead" that renewed my faith in the band. Unfortunately, it seems
like for every good minute on this CD, there's two bad minutes. "City of Satan"
clocks in at 5:44 and is lame from start to finish. There's a handful of pretty
awesome songs on here, but the rest of them just seem like recycled songs from
the past two albums. The saving grace of Party Animals is the last track, "Final
Warning". Not only is it one of the best on the album, but it ends a CD that if
nothing else, is uninspired. Don't get me wrong, the catchy riffs and killer
solos aren't lost on the band, it's just that this offering just doesn't evoke
the kind of fist-pumping reaction that other Turbonegro albums seem to be able
to coax out of me. No matter how high I cranked my dog-eared JBL's, the music
always fell at my feet instead of hitting me in the head. (Adam LaSota)
Wednesday 13 is
probably best known as vocalist for The Murderdolls. Since that band had to
take a break (their guitar player is also in Slipknot), Wednesday decided to put
out a solo album. I’ll be honest, I’ve never heard The Murderdolls so I don’t
know how this compares. What I can tell you is the sound of this album is very
reminiscent of eighties glam rock, but with downtuned guitars and a little more
heaviness in general. The attitude is kinda’ glam rock, too, in that first and
foremost this is meant to be a fun record. It’s just that the sort of fun
Wednesday has in mind is way more morbid than anything an eighties hair metal
band ever sang about. It comes across as refreshingly different, and a nice
change of pace from all the grimly serious metal and hard rock bands out there
today. I wouldn’t say it’s a great album, but fans of glam rock who appreciate
a streak of black humor in their music should dig it. (Bob Ignizio)
Jack White's
mellowing out. I can understand why, I mean, having sex with a 70 year-old
woman...something's gotta rub off. Besides the dust, anyways. I don't think
he's sitting around watching Matlock all day, but this album is pretty far
removed from the raw power of their self-titled debut. Don't expect an "Astro"
or even a "You Have No Faith In Medicine." The closest this album comes to
that sort of energy comes on "Red Rain" and "Instinct Blues," but that's not a
bad thing. The first two songs establish that this is going to be a different
album. There's very little of the blues sound that is so prevalent in most
Stripes' songs on "Blue Orchid." Jack's singing higher than ever, the riffs are
very angular, and there's absolutely no swing in the beat; the only things that
are reassuring and familiar are the steady explosions issuing from Meg White.
"The Nurse" almost sounds too much like it's trying to be different. I like
how the song plays with structure, but, like that kid at school who wears the
"You laugh at me because I'm different, I laugh at you because you're all the
same" t-shirt, it's trying a little too hard. Speaking of structure, this album
is less Iggy and more Beefheart. It's hard not to hear the Captain's influence
on songs like "Take, Take, Take" with it's strange, jerky change from verse to
chorus. If only Jack could do the Howlin Wolf impression.... He does take
things back to the blues on, well, "Instinct Blues." I love the production on
this song in particular. Every time Jack yells at the beginning of the chorus,
I get that “awesome-rock-moment” rush. "Red Rain" also sounds like traditional
Stripes material. The only difference is that on earlier albums the
composition probably would have been simpler and gone more for the
soft/loud/soft type of sound. "Little Ghost" makes use of the multi-layering of
vocals to much better effect than Elephant's "There's No Home For You Here."
This song is most distinctly the product of how much clout Jack White has with
his record label right now. I can't imagine a new artist putting a bluegrass
song on their album alongside songs like "The Nurse", "Instinct Blues", and
"Doorbell." Some ad wizard would complain that you can't market something
that's so all over the place. The best part about this album is that you really
don't know what to expect next, and I can't say that about many albums.
Composition wise and content wise, this album is a direct reflection of two
people getting a little bit older. Anyways, I’m glad they're showing their age
a bit. Fat Mike looks dumber every year. (Tim Piunno)