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Friday, February 3, 2012

Attack Attack! - This Means War review

Year : 2012
Genre : Barbiemetal
Label : Rise
Origin : Disneyland
Rating : 3.5 / 10

There is a saying attributable both to Hegel and Marx, that goes roughly like this : each terrible event in history happens twice. First, as a tragedy, then, as a farce or comedy of its original form. Emo music, as far as I know, has a more robust history than a recent observer would assume, as the implementation of radical, short emotional outbursts was a little extra added to the repertoire of hardcore bands of the early '90s. With time, the fake screaming rhetorics have become a full-blown narrative of "some", and Attack Attack! is a premiere representative of how obnoxious it can get, in my opinion. Look at this fronter, what the fuck is up with him? Don't know about you, but, to me, he genuinely seems and acts like he needs to be put down with a sedation shot for the good of the community and himself. Then he needs the help of a qualified professional ASA fucking P.

The name of the game of course is posing, and the shameless kind of it, too, and nothing more. Caleb Shomo is a businessman, and THEN he is the artist who delivers the EMOtional - phah - goodies needed by the 13 old manboob-sporter adolescent. I realize that this album with two erect penises on the cover is definitely not constructed to serve out my particular cravings, but, after I have watched some of the videos of this band and listened to the music on this spin, I think it is safe to say that Attack Attack!'s latest is a risk free product - PRODUCT, and not MUSIC persé - package that you will find enjoyable if you have a girlfriend you regularly enjoy playing suicide with.

Attack Attack's latest is a smartly and harshly limited product that seeks to make your adolescent-soul vomit up all its casual pseudo-torments, and there you are, treatable and beneficial to society - WTF?? - once again. The record's most terrible attribute, in my opinion, is Caleb Shomo's forced, obnoxious, disturbing, annoying-ass faked screaming, along with the little vocal subtleties he constructed on this release and probably is totally content and happy with. Such an example is, that sometimes you hear a crystal clear-,almost spoken syllable - recorded separately - bursting into the fakeass emo screaming. Read on to find out more about this release if you want.

This Means War's premiere redeeming value, from the point of view of casual social commentary, is the fact how it makes money by congratulating for its listener and True Embracer for what he is : an adolescent with manboobs who assuages the bitterness of a lost XBox battle by dumping another sack of chips in. If you are past 13, you can't take the premiere core of this music as something relevant or TOO serious. The record starts out with the lyrics : "Start the Revolution," but the fronter fake-screams it in a way that it sounds like "Santa Revolution", and, from that point on, my attempts to take this record serious, are to be kept intact with scientific rigor.

As it quickly turns out, this short, but soberly paced LP - 36 minutes - mainly is about the terrible screaming of the fronter, as he addresses his platitude-frustrations without end. "All is lost, everything that I love is gone!" Clearly, this is nothing else than an attempt to find resonance in a not yet integral and/or stable spiritual system. If All is lost, and everything you love is gone, the last thing on your mind is to listen to this LP. The most frightening thing is, that, if you are subjecting yourself to this for multiple sit-throughs - which Yours, Truly did - the intent of the music indeed clicks in, as Coverkillernation says in his review. His notions are spot on about the matter : when revealing its face, Attack Attack's latest variant on music takes you to a terribly dark and shallow place, where you are all alone with your penis.

Attack Attack! shamelessly exploits the instable spiritual integrity of the angsty adolescent, offering cheap refuge by showing a mirror with a comic book reflection of these comic book routine-torments, and that is that. "My girfriend dumped, me, I will fucking kill myself!" With an attitude like that, I'd dump you too if I were gay. Now that I'm not, please conduct yourself or get away from me. Or go volatile. The only minor redeeming values of this package are the rhythmic patterns of the breakdowns, but each of those will flow into a pop chorus, and those never register more than segments taken from an entirely different song, in my opinion.

This is an album primarily consisting of faked, constant emotional outbursts interrupted by below average pop choruses and breakdown sections of mild rhythmic entertainment value. Do not expect wonders in that department, either. Other than that, this is music with not much other intent to it than to serve out the expectations of its trend-audience, (synonym : music not worth wiping a decent gorilla's ass with) but also music that needs to exist this day and age, otherwise it would not. Santa Revolution, Lover.

Rating : 3.5 / 10

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