Review Summary: The song remains the same...exactly the same.
Bury Your Dead are just the embodiment of how far metalcore has fallen. They have nothing exciting about them. They try vainly to hold up their core sound and it’s honestly a pathetic attempt.
Between this self-titled album and BYD’s last album, Beauty and the Breakdown, they hired a new vocalist: Myke Terry. Myke’s scream is a lot less versatile than previous vocalist Mat Bruso, it’s rougher on pitch changes, choppy and extremely monotonous. It brings to mind a crunchier version of Baroness’ John Baizley. Throughout the album, most obviously on Hands to Hide the Shame, there are parts where melody has been attempted and Myke scream/sings the whole part. It sounds horrible and inexperienced, almost as if it were out of tune. It may have been done to seem creative, but it failed horribly.
The guitars are barely better than the vocals. They aren’t as unbearably delivered, but they are no more exciting. It’s just a mass of simple thudding riffs and crushing bass on every song. Guitarists Brendan MacDonald and Eric Ellis barely mash along, like amateur players who think they’re heavy. There’s no technicality at all, even on the fruitless shot at a solo in Year One, which is only magnified by the blatantly toneless yells of Myke Terry. Drummer Mark Castillo seems to be the most exciting part of the band, which isn’t saying much. The drums are tolerable, not too simple but not overly stimulating either. Apparently, the failed attempt at vocal cleverness was to be the focal point of the album. To shove Bury Your Dead further down the cracks, they uphold metalcore’s crucial downfall: similarity. Every single chord, every scream, is the same as the last. The riffs are heavy, but are in no way inspired.
The songwriting on Bury Your Dead is mediocre. The lyrics are passable, they aren’t the same words exactly, and they bring in some nice phrasing but the themes of them could be found on any Nine Inch Nails or Linkin Park album. Wondering if life is worth it (Fever Dream), lies, backstabbing, and hate for humanity (Infidel’s Hymn), it’s all in there. There’s even a hopelessness rant (Fool’s Gold), how exciting. It’s dark, it’s pissed off, it’s OLD. We’ve heard it all before. Every last bit of this entire album has been heard before.
I give Bury Your Dead a bit of credit for the (sadly unsuccessful) attempt at imagination in Terry’s guttural shouts, but for an otherwise dull album, 2.5.
Recommended: Hands to Hide the Shame, Year One.
