Review Summary: Ruiner haze a line of excitement and seriousness that ends up spearheading them in the long run more than it does elevating their variations
Ruiner haze a line of excitement and seriousness that ends up spearheading them in the long run more than it does elevating their variations – or lack thereof. The annoyance derived from such muddled execution is the fact that rarely does the band have a precise notion on how to get their message across; albeit there are times where they blend the lines and come away a winner. It’s quite maddening to listen to the band display their affirmations with such a belittled sense of existence. The problem however is not the purpose as much as it is the accompaniment. The instrumentals never seem to hit that mark that could send some of their finer moments over the edge; in fact a lot of the times the band is seen walking away from the ledge in fear that they might topple over themselves. Herein lays the frustration, in such acrid attempts to avoid despoilment they end up missing the mark.
Oftentimes the band are caught in a limbo state shouting their convictions to what might as well be an empty arena as the necessary emotion is vapid. Both “Dead Weight” and “Part One” display attempts of achieving great heights, unfortunately the band caught the moving sidewalk instead of the escalator so the songs are wrought with moving forward void of establishing any significant movement. These stagnant moments are about fifty percent of the CD frequently drifting its poisonous head into the bands most important moments. In turn their message is scrambled and all the cries of “I can’t always be the skin that you wear, when you are cold at night” are lost; which in turns hinders the frequency of their more jubilant side.
This renders a lot of their successful instances hopeless. Things are definitely much more interesting when the band pack a punch with their cold calculation. The drab that swallows the entire middle section of the album is almost inescapable rendering the bouncy “Committed” too little too late. Thankfully it doesn’t deter the enjoyment of lines like, “These are my gut’s, these are my insides, exaggerations of wanting to die, it’s not always a joke, but I never lie”, though it does beg the question as to why the band settled to such a tepid convention of hardcore. It’d be hard pressed to give points to originality for the release since almost everything is a swing and miss at other hardcore giants’ better establishments.
Ironically the albums finest endeavors are when they’re creating riots underneath sentimentality. Conveying more than suggested “Two Words” does an excellent job of selling its point without taking itself too seriously like the discs first two clunkers; “Hello you fu
ckers, you assholes, you social rejects…” is the opening line and is followed directly with “I hope you get my sarcasm as I generalize our subculture”. Of course these brief moments of flawless conviction are immediately moot as the band love following up these ideas with mounds of dead weight. “Meat” has an upbeat tone to polarize its plight and its songs like these that could have made the album more than it is.
Had the band opted for a standard hardcore engagement loaded with, at the very least, mid-tempo utilization there would certainly be more here to rave about. I find myself wishing that these Blacklisted
inoculations had been packed with more tenacity since it serves the real purpose here better than their lethargic attempts at self loathing. Hell Is Empty
ultimately shows a band riddled with confusion as to which direction they should go. It’s this haziness in their ambition that suffers the albums evocation.