Review Summary: The Project Hate are competent, but it all went too far when they decided to create an over-synthesized version of death metal.
It’s funny how anti-Christian music sometimes gives off completely the opposite impression. If I didn’t know better, I’d think The Project Hate
were a bunch of hardcore cult members who sang gospel hymns to spread the word of Jesus. To be frank, the stripping off of vocalist Sandström and his leather-jacket companions from what the band play in foundation would make this have looked like it jumped out of the next church-song pamphlet. And as the teachings of religion interest me, in no way, I was relieved when I indeed found out there would be no rendition of psalm 505 in a controversial 5th release, entitled “Armageddon March Eternal”. In fact, this is an album packed with blasphemies rent against catholicism, notwithstanding the apocalyptic tunes which seem to be pointing towards a whole other direction. There is little exposed to the ear through the course of the album which seems to be canceling out the existence of God, less so with what is reminiscent of Gothic Metal played off by the band. However, the lyrics speak for themselves, as do the female vocals teamed up with the imperious growls of Jörgen Sandström. In the end, you can see why it all boils down to being just another bunch who won’t hit the mainstream.
Their fifth album, you heard me, fifth, has only but stretched a vigilant finger out of their simulated shell of the underground. Heck, whether it’s because of inadequate investment or poor management, it’s about time The Project Hate
put themselves out there and graciously showed the world just how blandly boring their music is. I’m sure it would give few a good laugh, shedding light on an equally hyped Christopher Columbus, who proclaimed the discovery of the Americas upon anchoring in to the other world. The Project Hate
make their entrée, stumbling in clumsily to the fresh sweet air. “We’ve been discovered” a faint voice forces out somewhere between the snooze fest that seems to be a compatible definition to their riffing. But a sleazy hand was bound to put the band at a halt. As far as time has elapsed, the band is met with nothing but the apathy of discontent listeners, and it won’t be long, on a global perspective, before anybody puts this aside as a “nice try but no cigar” album. I have come to realize that what some have to offer slowly takes up its true shape over time, gradually giving room for the absorption of subtle musical omnipresences; but I’d be lying if I said there was room for growth upon exploring any other album you pick up. The Swedish sextet is certainly not the flour-base bun in my oven.
In reality you’ve pretty much heard it all after the first song. The rest is so tasteless, it is barely worth mentioning. The band consists of the angelic vocal from Jo Enckell who weighs down the word “apocalyptic” butt-first in an album that comes off too strongly. Even Nightwish’s “Once” got its way of setting a prime tab on Symphonic Metal, but The Project Hate
are simply eating crumbs off the floor, resulting in what seems a fairly derivative, second-version follow up to a genre of vital particularities, bestowing it to a beef-up of brutality. To a certain extent, the album is boring because it just is, but the extremely thematic music is exhausting on some level, and, in the end, so is the fact that it just doesn’t fit all that well. I know it’s a saying that goes too often, but, this band just tries way too hard.
What we're dealing with here is an Industrial Death Metal. You'll get a rather riff-oriented Death metal base, but as a whole the band relies on a symphonic keyboard trim which works as a partial substitute for the guitar's legato. They may get in a few good leads here and there, but I wouldn’t know, having partly fell asleep to an anything but captivating work-off. Hence At the Entrance to Hell’s Unholy Fire
kicks in at a conventional time for anyone who is hard to impress. Their first song is indubitably the best, being one of the more raw (less industrial) yet interesting songwriting catches that the band has to offer. For those who are more skeptical about this review, be my guest and delve deeper into the album. On your way you may find something else appealing, such as Resurrected For Massive Torture
which features massive riffs and a good balance. However, be apprised that you would be best off not going any further, unless you desperately need to remedy your being sleep-deprived.
The music literally gives room for Jo Enckell when she sings, proving there is no potential for her to stand out among the death metal constituents, and confirming the nonexistence of harmony in the album. I’ve found that her voice is actually pitch-y in spots, and it comes off as pretty vague when she tries to hold a high note. Nonetheless, she is admirably integrated in the beginning tracks to create a consolidation of contrasting elements. Then again, I’m always looking, as an auditor, for interesting ways to put things, or combinations if you will. But neither the lead nor rhythm guitars have anything out of the ordinary to offer. If so, it is vexingly covered up by the keyboarding effects, which I surely didn’t mind in the first song, but for the love of God (not that these guys have any), these Philistines have got to realize that they have at least 3 thirsty, buff band-boys who haven’t burned out their musical fires, and what with all the lack of groove to which they couldn't even swing a few hairs during the recordings. In spite of a picky production, the project just has to learn to exploit everything they have, as there was definitely a lack of fervor later on in the album.
The fact that the tracks are almost all 8 minutes long aside, this album is just much too exhausting. Sure, there are some enthralling moments to the album, but what album doesn't? It's considered a given, especially since this album clocks in at just over an hour. Everything seems to die out as I make my way through; it is just too bad that the first track suffices to lay this album down and accept that it is just something that will never get far. But why stop there? Even the occult featured here and evinced as a whole is just far too disposable, presenting no sense of zealous originality. Had the music been better, maybe it would have turned a few heads on its way over. But The Project Hate
is probably too busy to see that the music is conclusive. Be my guest; they can go as nuts as they, even dance naked around a bonfire of burned bibles and Jesus statues for all I care, but they should realize that as far as the consumer is concerned, this feebly average album is no collateral for anyone’s money, nor time.
- At the Entrance to Hell’s Unholy Fire
- Resurrected For Massive Torture