Review Summary: This is the soundtrack of the cynic.
Dangers are one of those bands who never wanted
to get big or famous, and to be quite frank they did a damned good job of that. They've been around for a fair amount of time, yet have little more than a dedicated set of "angry" fans. They've released a number of demos and albums, all of which capture the angst of growth and overwhelming depression effortlessly. Anger
is far and away their best release to date.
One thing about this album is the fact that despite it being a proclaimed "hardcore" album, it has a lot of interesting elements that borrow from many different genres. The guitar playing isn't your cookie-cutter power-chord under octave climax, it is a delightful blend of hard rock, punk rock, and Bane-era hardcore. For instance the intro to Half Brother, All Cop
has a two second blurb of what sounds like a late-70's southern rock song before launching into a frenzied power chord progression with clever stops and starts. The drums are phenomenal in their orchestration as they sound written to the guitar. Almost every song on this album has some sharp interplay between the guitar, bass, and drums that makes for a refreshing and original listen. There's even a song that features simply drums and vocals, entitled Break Beat
. It breaks down with an odd time-signature and Al Brown screaming about his disdain of the idea of a song simply being inspired by
heartbreak, and ends with him and others chanting "Broken hearts beat just fine.
A testament to his sharp-tongued lyrical style.
Al Brown is the image and voice of Dangers, with his high-pitched and rhythmically calculated shrieks of pure ferocity, he is the ideal singer for a band swimming through the tides of the "new generation of hardcore." Starting off the album cleverly with a quiet "hello" before launching in to We Broke the P.A.
, a quick down-beat introduction to what the band is all about. With clever lines such as "Our music is so soothing, our movement is not moving."
and We don't need a microphone, we scream loud enough on our own."
Al readily prepares you for what is to come in the next 30 minutes. Lyrically, there are some timeless verses on this album. My Wonder Years Never Got Cancelled
is essentially a
list of all the things in life that make him angry. With his frightening delivery and brilliant lyricism, the listener can't help but relate to just about every innocuous thing that pisses him off "like headwinds, girls with boyfriends, and no money for a new TV. Like that headstone with my name engraved from a generation past, like being 23 on Thursday, like growing up too goddamn fast."
This album has so much cynical charm, it's flat out impossible to be a fan of hardcore and not give it at least some respect for its originality delivering the same message that hardcore bands have been spewing out for years. This album is to the point, and it is certainly ***ing angry. Now go and buy it.