Review Summary: Not the death of metal, but the birth of facepalms.
There are certain popular pieces of music that seem like nothing more than fads right from the moment the first note plays. Remember “Gangnam Style”? That was a fad. The “Harlem Shake”? Also a fad. The thing about fads is that after their initial wave of popularity, however long it may last, they fade right back into obscurity and irrelevancy, sometimes rightfully and sometimes unjustly. Most importantly, though, fads aren’t taken too seriously all that often. In fifteen years time, when we judge them through our critical lens, will we look at them in the same way that we look at what are currently known as ‘modern classics’? Will we treat them like any other piece of music or will we just dismiss it as a wacky part of our pop culture at the time? Often, their shelf life is rather short, and seeing extended periods of popularity is uncommon. Most of them follow a trajectory of fast rise and even faster fall, speedily fading back into the same unpopularity they came from.
It’s not hard to see where Babymetal fits into all of this – rising to fame in 2014, the Japanese idol trio has gained notoriety and praise for their amalgamation of heavy metal and J-pop. While metal purists have been quick to decry it as the genre’s death and imminent commercialization, those claims are rather silly given the fact that Babymetal is not representative of metal as a whole, and to suggest that it is singlehandedly responsible for making metal accessible makes little sense. All dumbfounded claims aside, Babymetal at its core is nothing more than a little trend. The main reason they gained popularity was because of their unique blend of metal and J-pop, a combination they had never reached mainstream attention before them. Yet in the end, that’s probably its biggest flaw even if it’s what they’re going to be known for in the long run. Combining J-pop and metal, two genres that are on the complete opposite ends of the musical spectrum, comes off as way too gimmicky, and the fact that it’s practically their defining aspect only makes it more frustrating. It’s almost like Babymetal relies on that as their main selling point, and in this case the gimmick is perhaps the most irritating thing about it. After all, it’s most likely the only reason they got all the attention they currently have.
Their signature mix of J-pop and metal is just one of those combinations that sound like a good idea on paper, but when executed all of the blemishes and shortcomings really bleed through. First of all, the contrasting styles just don’t fit all that well together. The fusion of cute, bubbly Japanese pop music with generic modern metal riffs may have been an attempt to showcase how nice two genres that are completely opposite from each other can sound as one, yet it’s that exact characteristic that makes Babymetal so insufferable. The whole thing feels very awkward and disjointed, not blending very smoothly; instead, it just sounds incredibly out of place. Tracks like “Megitsune” at least have the decency to provide some not-so-bad vocals, but it’s songs like “Gimme Chocolate” that wear the album down, with irksome singing amongst a barrage of frantic riffs. Babymetal’s instrumental section isn’t all that bad; sure, it may not be anything overtly technical or innovative, but the riffs are played fast and furiously even if they do get stale quickly.
Babymetal also suffers from a lack of variation – almost every single song on the album follows the exact same formula of opening with a hard-hitting metal riff before the annoying shrill J-pop vocals provided by the group’s leader, Su-metal, come in. There’s also the obligatory electronic verse and breakdown, and all of this gets incredibly repetitive easily. Many songs sound the same, and it’s not that hard to tell what’s coming next since their structure is easily predictable. With thirteen tracks clocking in at nearly an hour, fifty-five minutes to be precise,
Babymetal really does get tiresome especially towards the end, when all it does is rehash ideas brought up in the first few songs. “Onedari Daisakusen” does get credit for its slower, more alt-metal like pace and instrumentation, but it’s one of few deviations from the standard. The vocals especially are a chore to sit through; they’re just so damn annoying. The high-pitched squealing of Su-metal may have been done to emphasize the cuteness factor, but it ends up being one of the album’s major flaws. There’s just nothing appealing about them, especially when she attempts to get a chant going on.
All in all,
Babymetal suffers from too many drawbacks that prevent it from being enjoyable. From the lack of variation to the annoying, shrill vocals, it’s hard to find anything that’s actually enjoyable about this band and any of their work. The whole concept of singing J-pop with metal comes off as extremely gimmicky, and it doesn’t pay off. While the group’s producer, Kobametal, thought he might have had something interesting going on when he decided to meld two genres that are on the complete opposite ends of the musical spectrum together, the end product comes off as extremely awkward and incredibly disjointed. There’s no questioning it – Babymetal is almost destined to go down in the history books as nothing more than a fad; after all, there’s simply nothing about it that could keep people’s interest for more than a couple of months. It’s not bad because it’s “the death of metal” or “the final step for the genre’s commercialization” – hell, I wouldn’t call it a primarily ‘metal’ album, it’s bad because it’s repetitive, stale, gimmicky and contains some pretty ear-splitting vocal performances. But hey, if it turns out to be some random thirteen-year-old’s gateway into a genre with tons of classic albums and songs, then you have to give it that, at least.
