Review Summary: You’ve gone too far this time, Susan. Too damn far.
Susan Bd tones. For her sophomore effort,
The Gift, Boyle has stuck with the winning commercial formula and plopped out a covers record, one bizarrely split between classic pop/rock songs and Christmas carols. It’s an absolute certainty that it will shift in droves, but this time, the results astill fnks partly to their European record label, Poison the Well sent ripples of excitement around the world with their debut ep, [i]Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fnye West cares about himself, about money, about pussy, religion and black people. Unfortvoice ties together the deceptively simple instrumentation, and from the opening beat of 'Hands' to the anthemic close of the title track,
Running Out of Places to Go goes about its business with its feet on the table and a smile on its face. You could call it unassuming, but with this type of quality, unassuming is a sign ofside, and that is glossy, uber-melodic music with a heavyweight punch. And Chiodos certainly deliver on those fronts. The rather awkwardly titled
Illuminaudio is a huge, polished affair - one bristling with a newfound, and sorely needed, energy. Any fears that new singer Brandon Bolmer would throw an unwelcome spanner in the works have been proved dramatically wrong; it might b Me’, to the thundering, monolithic ‘Not Within Arms Length’, it was obvious that Poison the Well had found their feet. The integration of post-hardcore aesthetics, melodies and structures took them away from their previous, more metal incarnation, providing a rounded,
full sound that they would develop even further in later releases. But for now they were still firmly metalcore, and the spark caused by
The Opposite of December resonates throughout the genre to this day.
The album is tightly, crisply constructed. From the first meaty clatter of ‘12/23/93’, it’s obvious that the drumming on display here is a real
presence, a firm bedrock underpinning everything else on display. The guitars beat out blunt, energetic rhythms, seamlessly interspersed with melodic streams that temper the anger and frustration of the music with genuine beauty. It hasn’t aged penks partly to their European record label, Poison the Well sent ripples of excitement around the world with their debut ep, [i]Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fnye West cares about himself, about money, about pussy, religion and black people. Unfortvoice ties together the deceptively simple instrumentation, and from the opening beat of 'Hands' to the anthemic close of the title track,
Running Out of Places to Go goes about its business with its feet on the table and a smile on its face. You could call it unassuming, but with this type of quality, unassuming is a sign ofside, and that is glossy, uber-melodic music with a heavyweight punch. And Chiodos certainly deliver on those fronts. The rather awkwardly titled
Illuminaudio is a huge, polished affair - one bristling with a newfound, and sorely needed, energy. Any fears that new singer Brandon Bolmer would throw an unwelcome spanner in the works have been proved dramatically wrong; it might b Me’, to the thundering, monolithic ‘Not Within Arms Length’, it was obvious that Poison the Well had found their feet. The integration of post-hardcore aesthetics, melodies and structures took them away from their previous, more metal incarnation, providing a rounded,
full sound that they would develop even further in later releases. But for now they were still firmly metalcore, and the spark caused by
The Opposite of December resonates throughout the genre to this day.
The album is tightly, crisply constructed. From the first meaty clatter of ‘12/23/93’, it’s obvious that the drumming on display here is a real
presence, a firm bedrock underpinning everything else on display. The guitars beat out blunt, energetic rhythms, seamlessly interspersed with melodic streams that temper the anger and frustration of the music with genuine beauty. It hasn’t aged penks partly to their European record label, Poison the Well sent ripples of excitement around the world with their debut ep, [i]Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fnye West cares about himself, about money, about pussy, religion and black people. Unfortvoice ties together the deceptively simple instrumentation, and from the opening beat of 'Hands' to the anthemic close of the title track,
Running Out of Places to Go goes about its business with its feet on the table and a smile on its face. You could call it unassuming, but with this type of quality, unassuming is a sign ofside, and that is glossy, uber-melodic music with a heavyweight punch. And Chiodos certainly deliver on those fronts. The rather awkwardly titled
Illuminaudio is a huge, polished affair - one bristling with a newfound, and sorely needed, energy. Any fears that new singer Brandon Bolmer would throw an unwelcome spanner in the works have been proved dramatically wrong; it might b Me’, to the thundering, monolithic ‘Not Within Arms Length’, it was obvious that Poison the Well had found their feet. The integration of post-hardcore aesthetics, melodies and structures took them away from their previous, more metal incarnation, providing a rounded,
full sound that they would develop even further in later releases. But for now they were still firmly metalcore, and the spark caused by
The Opposite of December resonates throughout the genre to this day.
The album is tightly, crisply constructed. From the first meaty clatter of ‘12/23/93’, it’s obvious that the drumming on display here is a real
presence, a firm bedrock underpinning everything else on display. The guitars beat out blunt, energetic rhythms, seamlessly interspersed with melodic streams that temper the anger and frustration of the music with genuine beauty. It hasn’t aged penks partly to their European record label, Poison the Well sent ripples of excitement around the world with their debut ep, [i]Distance Makes the Heart Grow Fnye West cares about himself, about money, about pussy, religion and black people. Unfortvoice ties together the deceptively simple instrumentation, and from the opening beat of 'Hands' to the anthemic close of the title track,
Running Out of Places to Go goes about its business with its feet on the table and a smile on its face. You could call it unassuming, but with this type of quality, unassuming is a sign ofside, and that is glossy, uber-melodic music with a heavyweight punch. And Chiodos certainly deliver on those fronts. The rather awkwardly titled
Illuminaudio is a huge, polished affair - one bristling with a newfound, and sorely needed, energy. Any fears that new singer Brandon Bolmer would throw an unwelcome spanner in the works have been proved dramatically wrong; it might b Me’, to the thundering, monolithic ‘Not Within Arms Length’, it was obvious that Poison the Well had found their feet. The integration of post-hardcore aesthetics, melodies and structures took them away from their previous, more metal incarnation, providing a rounded,
full sound that they would develop even further in later releases. But for now they were still firmly metalcore, and the spark caused by
The Opposite of December resonates throughout the genre to this day.
The album is tightly, crisply constructed. From the first meaty clatter of ‘12/23/93’, it’s obvious that the drumming on display here is a real
presence, a firm bedrock underpinning everything else on display. The guitars beat out blunt, energetic rhythms, seamlessly interspersed with melodic streams that temper the anger and frustration of the music with genuine beauty. It hasn’t aged peamiliar and predictable, but even these strain under the album’s insipid nature and the singer’s lack of talent and heart. It’s when Boyle turns her attention to Lou Reed’s ‘Perfect Day’, Leonard Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’ and Crowded House’s ‘Don’t Dream It’s Over’, though, that things really go tits up. The first and last of these are rinsed of any worth, but ‘Hallelujah’ bears the full brunt of the record’s mediocrity, with Boyle’s faux-sincerity reducing a truly sublime song to empty, meaningless drivel. What began as a rags-to-riches tale has turned into a massacre, one that could have been avoided if only someone had given Susan Boyle a haircut and a shave. If this is what we can expect every year, maybe it’s time we cancelled Christmas.
