Worship Music
Showing posts with label Anthrax. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anthrax. Show all posts
We've Come for You All
The cover art of Anthrax's We've Come for You All depicts the band gripping a circle of hands, as a beam of light shines on them from behind. It can be taken two ways. Vocalist John Bush, drummer Charlie Benante, bassist Frank Bello, rhythm guitarist Scott Ian, and new lead guitarist Rob Caggiano might be pulling their fans onto an imaginary stage, to join them in the limelight. But those fans might also be pulling them back from the depths of label-derived acrimony that has plagued Anthrax in the years since Stomp 442, the band's last proper LP release. Since then, metal in all its forms rose to the top of the charts, and hybrids of rap-rock and nu-metal -- genres built on what Anthrax helped create -- came to dominate heavy alternative. With new personnel, a new label (Sanctuary), and the survival of a PR firestorm in the wake of the anthrax scare, all the pieces were in place for a comeback. Instead, Anthrax seems to have designed the pile-driving thrash and carefree rock forays of We've Come for You All to say one thing: We never left. While Anthrax famously kick-started the rap-metal genre with its Public Enemy collaboration on "Bring the Noise," it largely sidesteps the sound on We've Come for You All, opting instead for a volatile mix of thrash and conventional metal, anchored by the gruff vocals of Bush. After a brief intro, "What Doesn't Die" drops, with Bush sounding positively furious as he screams "You cannot kill what doesn't die." As the band cranks out a vintage thrash rhythm, Caggiano introduces himself with the first of many blistering solos. And if you're a fan of the double bass drum pedals, Benante's double-time outro is like a clinic for metal drumming. E-Town Concrete's Anthony Martini's animalistic roar begins the seething "Refuse to be Denied," which continues the album's theme of resolve. While the record does nod to modern production techniques (courtesy of Caggiano's Scrap 60 collective) and expands melodically, the instrumentation and rage that have always been Anthrax's hallmarks are for the most part present and accounted for, undiluted by forays into marginalized, corporatized active rock that might have sold some records, but wouldn't have won over any real fans.
Unfortunately, the band chose "Safe at Home" -- one of the album's weakest tracks -- as We've Come for You All's single. Bearing a striking resemblance to Metallica's "Sad But True," the song opts for a pleading chorus that is the record's only straightforward nod to the anthemic post-grunge that has taken over metal in recent years. This misstep aside, We've Come for You All is a typical thrash metal album, in an age where such a thing no longer exists. The introspective acoustic guitar duet of "Anyplace But Here" gives way to a muscular Scott Ian riff that gives way to an effective nod to East Coast hardcore during the chorus. Though a bombastic overture slows things down ("There's ways to kill a giant"? Come on...), the song recovers with another screed from Caggiano. Though Pantera guitarist Dimebag Darrell stops by for the strutting '70s rock groove of "Cadillac Rock Box," the album features a more unlikely guest star on "Taking the Music Back." As Bush gives the lyrical finger to the record industry, Roger Daltrey appears to duet with him on the chorus and add a few trademark growls of his own. After another brief interlude, We've Come for You All makes its final descent with "Think About an End" and the closing title track. Once again, Bush's vocals present the band as a survivor, a unit that has always been supported by itself and its fans. At the same time, "Think" seems to lash out at Christianity. But it's strange. The song name-checks Rage Against the Machine in its chorus, uses the phrase "killing in the name" in its lyrics, and even bears a resemblance to the hard-hitting grooves of Rage's early material. It's unclear whether this reflects a positive or negative relationship between the two groups. Nevertheless, the song's meaty, churning groove slides right into the final title track. "W.C.F.Y.A."'s lyrics revel in heavy metal cliché ("The wrecking ball is here/Your chest contains no treasure"; "Patience starts to bleed/Increasing enmity/It's time to let the bullets fly"). But what is this band but a heavy metal survivor? If anyone can rely on the genre's boilerplate, it's Anthrax. A particularly nice touch is the fadeout on the song's final, titular words, as if they're still coming, for you, out there somewhere in the night. The band is sure to win back, win over, and alienate individual parts of its audience with We've Come for You All. But it's effectively reestablished itself not by embracing the recent homogenization of heavy music, but by grafting its more marketable elements onto its tried and true thrash.
Volume 8: The Threat Is Real
Ignored by all but diehards, Stomp 442 found Anthrax in creative freefall, shackled to ideas that had ceased to be interesting years ago. Apparently, the band realized they were in dire straits -- that's the only explanation for the ambitious cavalcade of sounds on Volume 8: The Threat Is Real, the follow-up to Stomp 442. Coming on the heels of Anthrax's blandest effort, the whirling array of styles on Volume 8 is welcome, but it also hides the fact that the group hasn't exactly bounced back from a songwriting slump that first reared its head on Sound of White Noise. Sheer energy and attitude go a long way, however, and for a while the album is genuinely engaging. The speed metal has actual bite, and the departures, from the heavy percussion of the opener, "Crush," through the country stomp "Toast" to the unlisted acoustic closer, "Pieces," are nearly all successful. The problem is, the entire thing adds up to less than the sum of its parts. At first, the revitalized and newly creative Anthrax is enthralling, but soon it becomes apparent that all of the change is on the surface -- beneath the stylistic games, there aren't many memorable songs. Still, the surfaces are quite appealing, suggesting that Volume 8 is a transitional album that will lead Anthrax into new, uncharted territory.
Stomp 442
Anthrax continued their downward spiral with Stomp 442, a generic collection of speed metal bombast. Previously, the band had been able to save their weakest material by the sheer force of their personality, but by the time they recorded Stomp 442, they had lost a number of their key members. Instead of recharging the band, the new members make Anthrax seem somewhat unsure of where to go next -- they pull out their old bag of tricks, but none of their blistering riffs, thundering drums, or hip-hop experiments carry any excitement any more. A handful of tracks suggest that the band could save itself, but Stomp 442 is a disheartening experience for the band's dedicated followers. (Why this is true in many regards, it is not necessarily a bad album once given a chance.)
Sound of White Noise
Anthrax replaced longstanding vocalist Joey Belladonna with John Bush (of Armored Saint) and released the surprisingly melodic and predictably pummeling Sound of White Noise. Producer Dave Jerden, who had worked with Bush on the last Armored Saint disc as well as releases for Alice in Chains and Jane's Addiction, helped Anthrax channel its energy into the shape of the post-Seattle metal sound. This ostracized some fans and attracted others, but the change is incidental; the music is relentless, like a brigade of tanks, and chances are you'll be too busy running for your life to worry who's at the wheel. Sound of White Noise cudgels the listener like nothing since Among the Living; Charlie Benante's drums are everywhere they want to be, a hailstorm of thundering blows backed up by Frank Bello's basslines. The guitars of Dan Spitz and Scott Ian forsake their usual showmanship for a sludgier attack that's downright brutal, although some will miss the solos that were often the highlights of their earlier work. And many enjoy the vocals of Bush; he has a lower-register voice than Belladonna, and the result is menacing, premeditated, and sinister. When he sings on "Hy Pro Glo" that "I'll beat you into overload," you know he and the band will carry it through. There are so many good songs on Sound of White Noise that no two fans seem to agree on their favorites. "Only" is the obvious choice, "Invisible" and "Room for One More" are hard to argue with, "Hy Pro Glo" and "1000 Points of Hate" are too hot to contain, and even the cooled-down "Black Lodge" has its admirers. The infusion of melody into their metal gives the material a lot more personality than their last effort, Persistence of Time, though the lyrics are just as dark. True, Sound of White Noise isn't a peerless, groundbreaking album like Among the Living or I'm the Man, but it does return them to the esteemed state of metal masters (alongside Metallica and Megadeth) that is their birthright.
Persistence of Time
Persistence of Time rivals Among the Living as Anthrax's best album and might even be a clear-cut favorite if some of the songs had been trimmed a bit. The more cartoonish side of the band is missing here, trimmed in favor of a dark, uncompromising examination of society's dirty underbelly -- nearly every song rails against hatred and prejudice, but without an excess of optimism. The standout track is, once again, a cover -- Joe Jackson's "Got the Time" -- but the rest of the album is strong enough to hold its own. This is the album for those who want Anthrax's serious side without any of the pop culture references and tributes; others might miss those elements, particularly since there has always been a sort of clumsiness to some of the more intellectual lyrics. However, Persistence of Time is their most lyrically consistent album, and the music simply rages.
State of Euphoria
The proper follow-up to Among the Living was somewhat disappointing in its inconsistency. While there are some good moments -- "Be All, End All" is one of the band's most melodic moments, and several other tracks catch fire -- the best thing here is a cover of Trust's "Antisocial," and it doesn't bode well when covers outshine original material. The lyrics continue the self-consciously intellectual, PC approach begun on Among the Living, but about half of the album is surprisingly dull. (True, but depends on ones own preference. I personal love this album as a whole.)
Among the Living
Generally considered the band's best album, Among the Living broadened the scope of Anthrax's subject matter with socially conscious lyrics addressing prejudice, violence, drug abuse ("Efilnikufesin [N.F.L.]," a rip on John Belushi), and the hollowness of the music business, as well as a politically correct ode to the "Indians." However, the band refuses to take itself too seriously, also recording tributes to Stephen King and Judge Dredd. Musically, the band delivers a powerful, aggressive roar driven by impossibly fast riffing and the changing tempos and collectively shouted vocals of hardcore, especially on the classic "Caught in a Mosh." The brutal rhythm guitar work of Scott Ian and the explosive drumming of Charlie Benante relentlessly push the songs along while still maintaining a solid groove, and more than make up for some lyrical awkwardness. Among the Living remains arguably Anthrax's foremost achievement.
Spreading the Disease
Anthrax's first album with vocalist Joey Belladonna is a huge leap forward, featuring strongly rhythmic, pounding riffs and vocals that alternate between hardcore-type shouting and surprising amounts of melody. Two tracks left over from the Dan Lilker days are here as well. The traditional metal lyrical fare is more original, while also introducing a penchant for paying tribute to favorite fictional characters and pop culture artifacts ("Lone Justice" and "Medusa" are prime examples). One of Anthrax's best efforts.
Fistful of Metal
Anthrax's lineup had not yet solidified when they recorded their debut album, and neither had their style. Fans of the group's peak-period material are likely to find Fistful of Metal off-putting, as the band sounds more like a Judas Priest knockoff with rather silly, stereotypical heavy metal lyrics than the thrash innovators they would become. Bassist Dan Lilker, who subsequently left to form Nuclear Assault, is present for this album, while vocalist Joey Belladonna is not. (This album suffers from many problems, but one thing it doesn't lack is aggression. And, that is all a band at this point in time needed to start with.)
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