Review Summary: Can you measure laziness? Perhaps not, but you can sure tell when someone isn’t trying.
As far as we know, there is no universal scale for laziness. The problem with measuring such a thing is that it’s all relative. Some people seem lazy when they are really trying. Some people never try at all. To put this on a scale would be difficult and time consuming, seeing as there are so many different ways an individual can be lazy. Whether it’s skipping a trip to the gym or just staying in all night, you can’t determine which is lazier. You may not have a scale to measure these trivial activities, but you’re one step closer; introducing Stampede, the sophomore album from Hellyeah. Congrats, you now have a bass line for your scale
Hellyeah’s newest effort (using effort quite loosely) is nothing short of a train wreck. Well, in some ways it isn’t because a train wreck would be quite amusing compared to this. They’re debut was mediocre at best. Why? Because it lacks any sense of risk or initiative. The main sense of redemption from the debut was that it was a great party album. That’s all good and great, but Stampede is released and its time for something new. Well, that statement couldn’t be more wrong. Not only did Hellyeah not change a thing, but they regressed even farther into a barrage of syncopated chugging and Nickelback-like themes. All the songs are relatively the same length, structure and content. The small amount of riffing that was included is virtually incomprehensible because of the constant jun jun jun. The vocals are completely uninspired and almost bored sounding compared to the debut. Now you ponder. Was the band trying at all, or are they all out of ideas?
Picture this. Their debut: partying, drinking, girls, drugs, sex and just having a good time. Stampede: hung-over, headache, nausea, regret, and bleakness. This is a perfect representation of Hellyeah’s small discography. Stampede was really just an afterthought. It was the point where the band just said, “Wait, were we supposed to make another album or what?” They were most likely hanging out in a basement somewhere, digging up old Pantera riffs and changing them ever so slightly so that nobody would know. Frankly, it’s quite unlikely the band cared enough to put out anything out that was listenable. They may have very well known what they were writing was terrible, but they would have shovelled it out anyways.
In conclusion, you will have learned that old dogs won’t learn new tricks. More appropriately, they will do old tricks, but with less skill and expertise. The pros are that the album artwork is actually pretty cool. The cons of this album are that there is no message, no technicality, no song writing skills, and the years of therapy you will have to endure to get over it.
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