Review Summary: We're gonna go to the graveyard and write poems about death and how pointless life is - south park goth kids quote taken to heart.
7 of 7 thought this review was well writtenSeattle faux horror punkers Aiden are truly like a cat with nine lives. The self-fulfilling parody began to take its toll when the group got cocky and traded in their energetic roots for moody The Cure-esque tunes.
Knives was damage control to regain diehards when mainstream success eluded their black finger nail polished grip. In a frantic rush to erase the blunders collected there was a struggle to find their identity as a newly formed four piece.
Disguises is an exoskeleton that attempts to be dark and offensive in a “crusaders against religion” shtick that’s overdone and exhausting. The melodramatic tales of Christian doom take themselves far too seriously when no one else received the memo. “The Devils Eyes” beckons for us to “all hail the dark one” and rejoice in the beast frontman Wil Francis has become. After all, death is inevitable so we all might as well piss and moan in worshiping Satan until we rot in hell.
“Shine,” a testament to past addictions, contains a hypothetical occurrence about an ambulance ride to the hospital from a heroin overdose. It’s hilarious to imagine Wil serenading the medical team working to save something he’s made abundantly clear he despises, so screw it, let the dark lord have him. "Can you feel my heart beat/Pump harder find a pulse/Change veins with that IV/Please William breathe"…stay down William and plague the depths of hell instead.
“Hysteria” initiates after a brief insightful speech by renowned atheist Christopher Hitchens that makes the lyrical content Wil possesses seem like jaded buffoonery. “Walk among the Dead” is supposed to be a battle cry for all those persecuted by religious tyranny throughout history. Ironically, Wil’s maniacal cackling, “we laugh, oh we laugh” makes it come off as retarded as those he condemns. The over usage of samples throughout doesn’t inject substance into the hollow thoughts Aiden can’t convey and proves to be a piss poor safety net.
Disguises crumbles beneath Wil’s caviler tone that profusely rapes a cliché selection of Halloween themed words that sound like a Hot Topic speak and spell. The miscreants that chip into the backing soundtrack have mildly progressed but not enough to forgive the molestation of Alkaline Trio’s “Radio." Former fatties Nick Wiggins (who I refuse to call Zombie Nicholas) and Angel Ibarra (bet Wil adores that first name) contribute tolerable riffs that mediocrely succeed. Unfortunately, Jake Davison’s high hat-snare technique must be taking a cue from his hairline because it fails to remain rooted.
I’ve constantly received amusement out of watching the south park goth kids because I’m certain Aiden’s likeness was stolen for the roles. The cartoon outcasts, notorious for wallowing in their self-pity, mimic the band’s obliviously entitled nature and poetically challenged rhetoric. If
Disguises was an invitation for those nay sayers to climb aboard the Aiden camp, I offer a rebuttal from our little pal butters, “Well, thanks for offering to let me in your clique, guys, but, to be honest, I'd rather be a crying little pussy than a faggy goth kid.”
