Animals as Leaders - Weightless review

Year : 2011
Genre : Experimental Math Metal, Djent, Fusion Jazz
Label :Prosthetic Records
Origin : United States
Rating : 8.2

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With its latest full length to declare ruthless state of war on your eager receptors, Animals as Leaders brings you (almost) top of the heat sci-fi music with commanding complexity and an experimental fusion jazz character to it. On this massive LP, nothing is-, and all is true, and everything is permitted, even highly encouraged, as long as it is originated from the inventiveness the record most often is on the tail of.

This release is not for the lazy ear, and it also does not give too many of concerns for the favorite hedonistic experiences of the properly cultivated pairs of those. (Which is a shame, because, a cultivated ear knows when it is being lied to.) The Weightless LP probably will register in your nervous system either as almost unalloyed earcandy-delacy that bows to only a very few boundaries to seek the pleasure of hearing, or, you will quite predictably will dismiss this spin as top capacity wankfest-galore, and you will need to read on to find out why is that.


It is because you are an insipid sex dwarf in gimp mask without sufficient levels of musical awareness, of course. Why, what were you thinking? Now, seriously : the fabric of this LP, though sliced up to 12 tracks of 46 minutes of sonic meat-mass to sink your - metaphoric - teeth into, really is one, huuuuuuge, huge track weighing in at 46 minutes. You can join in at any time, because this structure seeks to worship ultra-techiness for the "mere sake" of that gigantic agenda, and the release only is toppled in this regard by the latest to date Blotted Science EP, - read about that cosmic chaos monster here - which manages to keep a much more meticulously and consciously sculpted focus on its own fabric than this here baby seeks to. This does not at ALL mean, that this record is VASTLY inferior to Blotted Science's latest declaration, as a similar delivery. Only : significantly. A good amount of program time herein is devoted to masturbatory-, and, as such, hardly if ever stellar distorted solo guitar molestation that most often seeks to showcase the skill set - and related limit zones - of central musician / project leader Tosi Abasi.

The reality of the matter is, that, once you are in a sufficiently crowded sonic environment, and you have proper power, articulation and speed, - not to mention a bigass distortion on your beast so everything you play is ANIMAL!! - then you essentially can play whatever the hell you want and still come across as the dudette with the m4d sk1llz, and whatever the hell you want is not necessarily equates to top tier quality stimuli. As it does not necessarily takes that possibility away, either. Tosi Abasi's ubiquitous distortedass solo guitar presence make this release a fusion jazz contribution for the most part as its character, and I personally find his crazily rhythmized riffs much more entertaining than his solo work on this LP, that, in my opinion,

lacks true thought and emotion

I find the need and urge to relate to. My opinion, only. If yours, too, then we can hope Tosi will take the time and keep the elements of his solo guitar work that actually have SOMETHING to share with-, to move within the listener. Rarely melodic, and even when it is, it sounds routine and casual scale-variation. Superfar from the insane, chaotic/luscious fluid guitar you can hear on the Blotted Science EP mentioned above. Enough with the whining though, because this release has tremendous work behind it, and my only qualm of it already has just been addressed. No doubt it is a damn solid release for every part of it, - solo guitar included : solid/robotic/wanky, but not stellar, when examined - especially when you consider the added djent element of it.

Uhm.

Djent.

What the FUCK!¿

Well, the djent genre/direction is when the guitar is chugging away madly in palm mute mode, giving you that beautiful, restrained rumble, but, also seeking mathematically complex patterns and rhythms to entertain you with. Please correct me if I'm missing something regarding this subject.

Animals as Leaders', Weightless, fortunately enough, is not afraid to rely on glitch-type electronic effects here and there, and do not be afraid at all, because they always are being used very tastefully in the structures. The album produces a wicked-, thick sound and features extremely crowded areas, and it is pure sex-appeal top to bottom whenever the solo guitar gives it a sigh to recuperate without a faceless fretparade sticked in the back of it at all costs.

Rating : 8.2 / 10

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Steel Panther - Balls Out review

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Blut Aus Nord - 777 - The Desanctification review

Year : 2011
Genre : Industrial Black Metal with a cybernetic Sludge flavor
Label : Debemur Morti Productions
Origin : France
Rating : 8.6 / 10

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Blut Aus Nord is here with the second installment of its 777 trilogy. The cover art suggests hypnotic Illuminati connotations with many elements of the consorting symbol language being incapable to represent their meaning via their full efficiency. The All Seeing Eye now is a Yog-Sothothian slime-mess on top of the primordial Pyramid turned upside down, and there are, of course, reptiles, too. What about the guy on the top? The awakening of the proper Human Epitome, or "just" a drawing? No, there really is no such thing in existence as "just a drawing", and France's premiere industrial black metal act shows valiant will to break through human meta-calibration and touch upon the things that purposefully dwell beyond the epitome-hematoma of the "just" and the "is".

The anatomy of the compositional method herein is to create impressively massive-, well researched sonic landscapes that a cyberlich finally feels properly home and comfy at, and the spice on top of things to be witnessed is a strategy to bombard the listener's receptors with a cavalcade of biomechanical sonic entities parked all across the middle frequencies. The album has a more restless beginning and a gradual-, but deceitful tendency to witness decay tinker once it declared its rule set, giving you a sense of cynernetic sludge at the climax, which is quite rare to behold. It sounds like JUST the right music for Doom IV.

If you think you have endured more devastating of a strike before to your astral body then a French (look, me punned, totally!!) kiss from Chaos, then the album should exhibit propensity-evident to remap your consorting sentiments via scientific rigor and ruthless efficiency. Read on to find out more about this biomechanical-, transhumanic rewire device.


Blut Aus Nord's latest probably will reveal its intended full functionality intact and full-paua when the trilogy reaches its completion in 2012. Which, according to certain perspectives, also is the year that Noise Shaft readers will turn into transhumanic light beings. Pha. If you can travel out of-, and into any body you prefer to in order to enrich the existence-experience via free will, then it sounds good to me, amen to that.

This album-, while weighs in as industrial black metal on paper, shows much more interest in revealing more calmly-, but rather menacingly paced cybermeat-structures than to celebrate and resonate the classic mechanics of intensified black metal being on a tier of good old fashioned scythe-related rampage in the front row of 2389423423894239423423 skeletons.

This review now performs an illegal operation to submit to the blind potentiality of Chaos, - not that you and I ever had all that much other chance, anyway - and will start to scrutinize this delivery from track number 2. Track number 2, called Epitome VIII sounds to be one of the most slick contribution of the entire spin. It consists of multiple parts, each with superb respective qualities, and they all share a common denominator via their avid cultivation of the

brutally intimate

Chaos-experience.

The track starts out as an uncompromising piece of diligent insanity-worship, which is a very staggering thing to witness in meat space, because, insanity is the only thing that gets stronger if you choose to fight against it. It is so much more fun to witness it for entertainment purposes, only, so no one needs to get actually hurt, and afterwards/during you have the right to shape your related soul-content to look more beneficiary - or more terrible, I admire your work greatly, Mr. Montana! - on the bigger pictures. Epitome VIII seemingly shows only a momentary escape from the hideous grasp of pain-embodied via its midsection, accomplishing this feat by throwing in rather elegant riffcraft into a bottomless abyss of totally humorless, evil intentions. The riff IS intact, looks good and it rationalizes the notion that right THERE, right THEN it also is your only way out of that fucked up place, but, thing is that you do not dare give hope for the riff at THAT moment. Surprise, surprise : once you are done chasing hope, it starts to chase YOU, instead. Hope is a woman. So real. The elegant cybernetic doom riff paves the sonic landscape to absolutely monstrous beautiful music, music that remains relentlessly abominated and uncompromisingly dainty in its character. You need to hear this one to get where it is coming from, because the music worth listening to is eluded by the stock words. (This is what I call good music review site marketing, too. < - sarcasm.) Track number 3, Epitome IX is a tender, shorter ambient delivery with no danger to encounter - except yourself.

Track number 4, Epitome X comes forth riding on a more tame mood than what you have heard so far on this LP, yet the ingredients of the fabric are consisting of the same-, purposefully tormented aural entities. Regardless of the terrorized background story of these skillfully researched timbers, the first key-structure of this track summons the omnipotence vibe you can bath in via The Who's timeless song Eminence Front, which in my opinion remains as one of the primer epitomes of that mood. During its brisk, bravely shaped progression, track number 4 eventually also sinks into wildspace related pandorum, smothered by a void, godless state from which the only way out is through

- dramatic tams in

The Unbeknownst

- dramatic tams out

and it is looking quite relevant while sinking, too.

Track number 5, called Epitome XI is the music I expect Doom 4 to grace my ears with as the main menu music when I hit escape. If you think I dissed the album with this notion, then your absence from the consorting truth is such indeed that the mere hope of you ever reaching it simply fails to recognize you and vice versa, no matter how hard you two are scrutinizing each other.

This particular Doom video game vibe is even more pronounced in the follow-up track, which is titled : Epitome XII. (Wonder if there is a hidden message in the title??????????????????????,,,,,,,) This installment is an easily accessible, simple, but very powerful build in character, with a superb, mid-frequency soulcrusher riff relentlessly burying all hope under places even Oblivion chickens out at. The riff gets complimented by a haunting, massive chorus from time to time, and the whole track is out there to eat you alive.

As hinted not so much long ago, the percept that the album shows a more observatory stance towards abominated aural entities than to make a vile kind of love to them, is pretty deceitful, which is a good thing, because the main idea herein - obviously enough - is to entertain. The album wraps up with a prolonged-, smartly crafted ode to insanity and/or radical spiritual discomfort.

To be totally frank, - which exactly is why you are here, I hope - I'm impressed with the monumental production values of the release, because it features such obscenely crowded areas from an aural point of view, that the unquestionable integrity of the data is a superb accomplishment. The vocals are tremendously effective for what they want, too. They deny all joy and seek to embrace the seeds of direst needs, and this exactly what makes this record work so efficiently. Nevertheless, I do have the hunch here and there that I'm listening to a fantasy-themed '80s pinball machine demoing to itself without the sear promise of a coin present in the neighboring cosmoses, as far as the compositions themselves go, ON OCCASION. Emphasis on "occasion". Before you BFG my ass away, let me tell you this : I think the record has a quite powerful character-, it is packed with quite a few flashes of profound brilliance, yet there also are decisions on this spin to let a superb build wither away here and there. Minute 7 mark of the opening track comes to mind : from that point on, the structure is spiced up by inventively sculpted and thrillingly rhythmized machine gun drums, but it quickly turns out that their mere occurrence is the effective catharsis of the song itself, and they won't take you anywhere, because they have no destination assigned. Boosh!

This still remains the full-spin record you could consider as background stimuli if to summon Beelzebub to ask 1 single question from him, yet minor blemishes in its fabric prevent it from emerging as a primer variant on the Ultimate Chaos Testament. Like this. I liked one particular sentence of this review dearly, so I will reshape it in order to wrap this review up. Blut Aus Nord's second installment in the 777 trilogy is your ticket to take an exhaustingly thorough stroll in the dire company of a brutally intimate Chaos-experience.

Rating : 8.6 / 10

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My Dying Bride - The Barghest O' Whitby review

Year : 2011
Genre : Sludge
Label : Peaceville
Origin : United Kingdom
Rating : 8.0 / 10

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My Dying Bride is here to mangle down both your cautious and your comfortable concepts of oh!, so real reality with sludge-rampant unlimited, and, also take heed and bear witness to the superb cover-art that is summing up the horrifying vibe this release seeks to communicate along. For a sake of the moment and the metaphor, imagine how you would feel if to encounter this fucking demonic beast of a living being under this terribly killing moon, and, once you have the vibe, then the best you could and should do, is to hop on this spin and give the middle finger to your expectations while at that. This is acceptable as a plan, but you and I both know that secretly we both anticipate a traditional vibe of sludge, and deeply traditional sludge it is indeed, with down-tuned, - oh really. - tormented instruments seeking to address and spout myriad form of myriad miseries.

There is a quite convincingly sick and sLick sludge record called Guilty by a band called Indian, and this release is quite peaceful, compared to the constant living-through of death - wow! - the Guilty record shows interest in. For the most part. Luckily enough, and, for what I personally like quite enthusiastically about this release, this EP has no desire to serve out any ONE particular spiritual craving of yours. If you are here to shed a tear, you will have ample chances to do so, but, don't be surprised if this EP picks your crying spirit up and kicks its ass to hell and back. The album contains a single, monumental track weighing in at 27:04, and this amount of time gives it all the opportunities in the whole wide world to do with you whatever it wants to. As such : read on to find out how this track is going to waste you.


The EP starts out with one minute of atmospheric ambient, and, after 60 seconds, when you would start to whine like a little bitch about how you not signed up for an atmospheric experience of atmospheric graveyard wind and whatnot, the Lurking Sludge, as if it would be aware of your intent to start to whine, emerges in front of you and puts a ball of mud into your open mouth, (as a start) which is a humbling experience for sure.

The first 6 minutes of the album is a peaceful - in sludge terms, that is - introductory sequence with restrained-, but properly present and soulful singing - not on the LaBrie comfort me, please? register, thank God & Co. - and quite efficient-, also quite eerie violin playing. Do not be afraid : being primordially eerie is NOT an intent of this release, fortufuckinglutely. As hinted already, its primordial intent is to waste you, and it knows that the eerie factor wears out super quickly until a shapeshifter or a banshee moves in to rip out your heart.

From 6:30, a relentless, monumental rumble emerges as Ultimate Abomination Cthulhu would be on the drums with his buttbuddy Yog Sothoth on the bass and their favorite "gimp" Abdul Alhazred with a guitar and the mic as fronter. Erich Zahn on the violin. Hell, yes! My all-time favorite sludge line-up to be honest, and I'm pretty sure that it is yours, too. The singing, while this rumbling operational mode is engaged, takes the character of the narrative-, calm melodic style Peter Steele likes to utilize. Even better : the singer does not seek to imitate Peter Steele's Demigodian Deeps.

The intensity quickly changes its form back to more freely positioned sludge-splashing. A nice riff shows its pretty, but sad face around in an elegant loop, with tamely tormented, but, fortunately, still dignified and likable singing. This verse structure is colored by a short guitar solo, then, an even more relevant, inventively and deceivingly evil riff comes in to park its hideous foot on the remnants of your favorite hopes, hahaha. This structure reaches an interlude with warm, clean guitars fading in then out, giving place for not too stunning, sorrowful solo guitar molestation with howling wind in the background. In my opinion, this introductory sequence of this sub-sequence from 15:00, sounds like the guitarist is out looking for a riff that is on the run from him. A second solo guitar comes in after a while to lead a helping harmonic walk stick. By the time the singer joins in, the guitars indeed are riding on an efficient, restrained, kind of elegantly shy and humble build. From 19:30, the band starts to have the Yob going on : this here is the vibe Your Angry God Who Finds Exquisite Pleasure Smithing Thee is riding on : the singing here becomes spiritually tormented AND authentic at that, while the guitars are finding the sonic places in the fabric of mere music that cause anti-comfort on purpose. And they do not even go for the tritone, A.K.A. the Note of the Devil. Here is a song with a keen fixation on the tritone.

With great satisfaction I behold, that, from the 22:00 mark, My Dying Bride breaks through a door - a fortunate turn of events that the sentence does not end here - the Yob dudes did not really took interest in in their latest release of similar character. At the end section of this 27 minute epic, My Dying Bride brings you sludge-intensity that relentlessly sucks into itself the spirit of death metal, finding a place later on to introduce evil sacrificial drumming that Satan himself probably would give the Approved! on. No, he did not object. No tam and bass drum in the house remains in safety, every single one of them receives full capacity engagement, and the resultant sonic experience is absolutely magical. On the darker spectrum of things, of course. This tribal-, sacrificial megavibe fills the track out proper via the end sequence, and only an atmospheric outro is left to shake a hand with - make sure you get it back - before this elegant soulcrusher EP completes the first spin you deserve. It also is worth mentioning that the release is capable to produce a relentlessly monumental and precisely sculpted sonic presence without effected toy-wizardry, and this right here is the trademark of an output that demands your immediate attention. A DAMNED decent sludge contribution.

Rating : 8.0 / 10

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Gurd - Never Fail review

Year : 2011
Genre : Groove Metal
Label : NoiseArt Records
Origin : Switzerland
Rating : 8.0 / 10

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Switzerland's Gurd - which reads "drug" backwards, boy, do I have the Sherlock going on! - unleashes the avid groove metal animal on high octane convince power, and, funnily enough, the lead singer on this debut does a pretty fine job at imitating the vocal style-, even the mere vocal timber of Pantera's Philip Anselmo.

The LP, thank God & Co. and related creators, has a relentless, insatiable urge to hammer you into the nearest wall with the constant sonic rumble it summons and maintains during its eventful 44 minutes, so, if you are looking for the radically intense side of the groove, then this here piece of aural rocket powered bomb is just the one you want to hop on to. The lady sitting on it already is not too hopeless to tolerate, either. Read more to investigate how this release seeks to communicate its massive agenda.


Gurd's debut is heftily produced old school - diffo not a term to wield as weapon in a rant - groove metal with very limited urge present in it to go for the melodic chorus noodle-hooks, and, even when it does that for a minute or two, the disc's propensity to turn commandingly rabid again at any moment without warning, is kept intact in the instant vicinity. This album looks pretty good being in a constant rampage mode, and it is noticeable that the more "gentle" structures of the builds are mainly there to prepare the road for yet another rumble that is about to express its radical character.

There are some key hindrances to this release, as well, and pretty grim ones at that : track number 5, Higher Meaning features some supremely terrible backup vocalist, - backup tormented soul with a coffee addiction and no coffee?? - who obviously managed to escape from the studio people who tried to fill him up on sedation pills. This entity of unknown origins - and let's hope it remains THAT way - truly gives out signals from his throat that immediately register as successive pop-ups of highly illegal space-time rifts that makes the most renowned metalcore plastic hellspawn crumble through all floors to feel embarrassed along the whole way back to toy-hell.

The album also makes some quite strange decisions along the way to smuggle half a smile on your face, like track number 7, called Blame Someone Else : the minor issue herein is not too bad, and it gravitates around the vocal contribution. The Anselmo imitation sometimes sounds relatively forced - nevertheless somewhat efficient - herein. Tame accent issues : imminent. But, on top of that, an authentically "sick", vile mid-tempo build with a vibe that rides on a near-psychotic rant of threats, - Pantera's Walk, anyone? - is interrupted by a super-tepid - is this an oxymoron? - metalcore chorus that diligently sucks mummified camel tits and I don't like it.

It is safe to say though that the album has only minor blemishes to encounter along the way, and even those do not conflict with the oh!, so peaceful institute of instant tolerability. It is worth mentioning that the album wraps things up nice and relevant with a groove metal quasi-instrumental epic clocking in at 6:40. It is a relative rarity to hear a groove metal epic, as far as I know. A tight, angry, authentic contribution fueled by proper love towards the genre. And, coming to think of it, the metalcore action figure lich in track number 5 is more priceless than hideous.

Rating : 8.0 / 10

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Cynthesis - Deevolution review

Year : 2011
Genre : Ambient Progressive Metal
Label : Candlelight
Origin : United States
Rating : 7.5 / 10

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Cynthesis' Deevolution sounds to be a restrained, calmly paced quasi-progressive, quasi-chillout - more on these notions later - metal record with heavy attraction resonated towards ambient backgrounds, mid-tempo structures, shy synths and arpeggiated guitars. A sense of sugar-overdose minimalism also is in the vicinity armed with unfortunate enthusiasm to whisper about its capacities from time to time, but, fortunately enough, the band members - usually - have a sober awareness regarding the moment from which on the singer is singing for himself, primarily.

Solidification : album closer called A Song of Unrest is a pretty muscular track of the release in my opinion, and the mere structure of this song is one the LP is fond of utilizing. Yet, the solid melodies and the inventive harmonic background structures the singed sequences collide with herein, are not always as interesting and tasteful as they are in this particular delivery. Read on to find out more about this likable ambient/progressive metal spin.


Cynthesis' Deevolution is not all that concerned with the probable meta-definition of metal, and the band's primordial behavior leans more and more towards extremely calm upon hitting the middle point of this honest, elegant debut release. First let's scrutinize the full power - full instrument engagement modes of the album. The LP produces a wide, sanely reverberated sound via its more crowded instrumental sections, sometimes interrupted though by highly idiotic variation that does not do any justice to the song in the spin at all. Solid track number 3, called Divided Day, for example. This nice mid-tempo build gets squashed by some kinetic grinding from time to time, which sounds like the sound you expect to hear when attempting to murder a living being with a snarl and a pneumatic driller, what is the reason for this?? It does not sound good at all.

As for the quite present ambient ingredient, the album, it seems and sounds to me, seeks to summon the Blade Runner spiritual vibe so palpable in the 1982 motion picture. You know, when Deckard - Harrison Ford - looks out of his handsome head into the cybernetic city in the company of his last bottle of bourbon, and it is hard to tell if there is a woman on his mind or the thought to look for the remote to adjust the volume of the background music. Blade Runner Blues by Vangelis. This is the music you want to hold your dream woman in the rain for. THAT is the music for such images, and, I tend to think that Cynthesis tried to recreate this vibe, and, what's more important : the results of the experiment sometime demand closer scrutiny! While track number 4 is nothing special in my opinion, - still good for a filler - 5 is about to ride out on a truly efficient, rabid, sexy mid-tempo build that did not yet decide to tolerate you or to end you in unreasonably violent fashion.

Track number 7, called Twilight though, is very easy to relate to as a piece that reveals Cynthesis' variation on the Blade Runner Blues, at least, according to my percepts. Only, this time, it is not the lead synth that addresses its favorite misery, instead, it is two guitars : one is your everyday average nuclear heavy metal solo guitar wearing Puma sport shoes, the other Kermit's bubblegum guitar, but that one is cute, too, while playing its program time of 7 seconds or so. Unfortunately, the Cynthesis dudes did not put the effort to improvise / develop a legit, epic solo all over the ambient sonic wall, - BOOOOOOOOSH! - and I tend to think that they have created a beautiful sonic entity and they put a knife in its body. Not a nice gesture at all. Geez, this review is becoming a horror special. Anyway, this is a likable album without doubt, and its aspiration to compliment the caressing, comforting capacities of ambient synth music is nicely realized. But, keep in mind : whenever the album turns to an ambient format, then it is "just" that, and the one moment it collides epic ambient with nuclear metal, the magic, as noted, is not given the praise it demands. Other than that, this is a safe recommendation.

Rating : 7.5 / 10

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Trillium - Alloy review

Year : 2011
Genre : Melodic Gothic Metal
Label : Frontiers Records
Origin : Germany
Rating : 6.6 / 10

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Germany's Trillium comes forth with a heavy duty mindhack attempt to reprogram your mind via rudimentary NLP skills, making you believe that you are about to be subjected to the treatment of American metalcore act Trivium, but : naaah, this is another band, fronted by local singer Lady Amanda Sommerville, and this here fresh LP, Alloy, is doing an acceptable job at fixing your myriad cravings and sentiments Gothic enough if and when they are not involving too serious things like blood and / or turning into a monster for the inherent fun of it.

The album sounds to be a mixed result, - metaphorically, too - and here is why : some songs are pretty tight, their numbers are numerous, but a healthy amount of the builds are enervated contributions at best, opening track Machine Gun - a terribly scant choice for an opener - comes to mind : "I'm a machine gun, and I'm never gonna quit, you are under fire." OK, I think I'm gonna cry. Oh Amanda. You are a Goth mistress for Nosferatu's sake, bite my neck instead, or at least spank me real good or something. Your ripe Goth arch-muse Amanda Sommerville is the main attraction here, making this delivery similar in character to the risk-free fairy tale metal calculatedly delivered by Netherlands' Within Temptation, but Magistratess Sommerville has a more pronounced affection for the dark side - haaaaa, phuuuuu, haaaaa, phuuuuu - than the singer Lady of Within Temptation whose name I have no clue nor interest about at the moment, but both of these Mistresses have solid pipes AND a consorting lack of truly defining vocal qualities, sipp!, sipp!. Amanda Sommerville also brings a brutal dose of Free Dominguez influence, as her head voice / whistle register exclusively finds melodies that Kidney Thieves' awesometicular Free Dominguez is the original creator / resonator of. There is music behind Amanda on this record, too. Guys, let's talk about the music.


Trillium's Alloy is accessible, Goth bubblegum metal with logically, mathematically engineered gloom and bijou-epicness written all over it, but, this is not the kind of gloom that emerges to kick your hideous ass to hell and back, it is more like a session with a comic book psychiatrist lady sitting in the armchair while you have a chance to secretly stare at her quality black stockings filled with quality legs, and the memory of the session remains of JUST that, as well. Musically, this is a decently produced / realized instant microwave metal spin, and it does not even want to be bombastic or intimidating while addressing its own charmingly limited-, but solidly delivered toy-cleaver qualities.

The album has maybe 3-4 potential songs - among 12 - with bigger emotional heft and sonic inventiveness in them, but there are tunes as well of the caliber a rabid metal maniac will dismiss in rampant bursts of yellow foam, outcrying a shameless display of radio friendly charlatanism, like during track number 6, called Mistaken. The chorus of the song is the textbook definition of "look!! a radio chorus, my favorite love!" In track 7, a male singer joins into the fray to reveal his capabilities at delivering epic metal with epic determination and the appropriate body posture I imagine - let alone the ambition that is enough to shatter the stratosphere infinite times - , and, while he is uhuh, uhuh, decent, I guess, - nowhere near the galaxy of Your Personal Doom God Butch Balich though - honestly he sounds like he needs urgent matters to take care of first, and it is very comforting to hear Amanda taking the lead back from time to time, in my opinion.

The most admirable attribute of this release is its length, - and I'm not talking ONLY about Amanda's sublimely realized legs right now - because the LP noticeably has diligent work and enthusiastic creative force behind it, yet never forget, that these resources were utilized exclusively to deliver you risk free pink bubblegum metal with radio friendly qualities for 56 minutes. With a keen affection placed on mid-tempo builds and prolonged verse/chorus structures in which Amanda can warm her pipes around safely in her dangerless comfort zone, this here is a kind, friendly German fairy tale metal delivery that is as easy and safe to listen to as it is to not to at all.

Rating : 6.6 / 10

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