We Stitch These Wounds juxtaposes songs of innocence and intelligence beside each other, addled by the raucous screams of a possible hermaphrodite, who, throughout the album muses on life's ends and whether or not it is worth being attracted to a mortician's daughter. At the end of the day, of course it is; and Black Veil Brides's lyricist conveys this message with a heavy dose of profundity and pathos. He/she does this will all of the lyrical issues the album touches upon, from depression, suicide, cutting, possible substance abuse, and bisexual experimentation. Unfortunately, the band does not ponder gender reconstruction surgery and the ethical flaws or lack thereof on the album; however, this is all saved by the pristine, angelic voice that pops up now and then; it is eventually suffocated by hollering and generic breakdowns. Perhaps it's all a metaphor for light vs. dark, occult vs. innovation? If so, the conflict is alarmingly fresh, expressed through "un-fresh" concepts and execution. This dare is truly what makes the facetious We Stitch These Wounds an astounding work, full of passion and honesty. Aren't all records supposed to express this?
Unfortunately, there is some amount of travesty on the record. For instance, the band forgets every couple of seconds how to play their instruments, resorting to riffs and leaving junz in the wake of a musical accident intersecting that of all that Brokencyde hate. However, Black Veil Brides make you ponder your sexuality, and they may just change your opinions on what music can be, how it can be made, and who it can be made by. You may be sitting at your computer screen with pathetic bird shits like Thom Yorke and David Spade, but Black Veil Brides, regardless of how much they lack in musicianship and talent, are a moving band. We Stitch These Wounds personifies it. It encourages those who listen to step out of the box and shop at Hot Topic, to rebel against thine parental units and to avoid sexual encounters with the opposite sex no matter how much your lil ‘giny tickles. Listen to this album, and be blown. Away. And. Then. Watch. Twilight.