Review Summary: Whatever fleeting creativity Vitja possess is all but dissolved on Digital Love.
One can’t help but get mixed signals when listening to
Digital Love. Vitja, the supplier of said album, are relatively new to the scene, having formed and released their debut,
Echoes, in 2013. To say that they exploded onto the scene would be a drastic overstatement, especially considering the mixed reception metalcore bands are so commonly met with. The German outfit would seem to be aware of this, considering they’ve incorporated a tendril’s worth of influence from other subgenres, including experimental, djent, groove and industrial. What they aren’t aware of, however, is what to do with said influences; that is, how to incorporate them in a way that benefits the listening experience. The desire to make one’s music distinguishable in a field crowded with thousands of artists striving for the same thing isn’t just appealing, it’s downright challenging. As if in response, Vitja have laced their music with a handful of aesthetics that only curl away as the music keeps playing, revealing the core of their stale, overused formula.
Going by
Digital Love’s title and cover art--depicting an upside-down heart amidst method-less binary code, we can make a couple likely inferences. The overarching idea is that love doesn’t mean what it used to, especially in the wake of digital prominence. That’s our thematic introduction. Meanwhile, glancing the track names introduces us to the trite banality of the album’s tonal paradigm; opener “SCUM” wants to make a point by being in all caps, “No One as Master No One as Slave” is awkward to read and annoying to ponder, “Find What You Love and Kill It” sounds like it wants to make an edgy statement, so on and so forth. Lyrics remain the final aspect to consider before analyzing the album’s actual sound, and let’s just say that subtlety isn’t Vitja’s specialty. Perhaps the most apparent example is the title track, an obvious and…deep commentary on pornography:
Selling our bodies
We don’t even get paid
Only for a bit of attention and the stories you create
Suck and swallow
Take it deep inside
Suck and swallow
I know it’s what you like
With all this mind, examining Vitja’s music could be likened to investigating an all-too-familiar crime scene in an indoor location. Little details in the environment may be to fun to note, if only because the walls and décor have a different color scheme, but the fundamentals remain unchanged. The supporting subgenres come to clash with a sense of layering that simply feels overdone, especially with regards to vocalist David Beule, who does the predictable harsh/clean trade-offs without a chance to simply let his voice be. Perhaps it’s in an attempt to disguise his obvious shortcomings, which can be blamed on a lack of development, though the aforementioned lyrics certainly aren’t helping. From a strictly instrumental standpoint,
Digital Love is functional if shy of redemption. Some of the lead rhythms do briefly stand out, with the bass-friendly mix offering just enough punch to achieve some semblance of groove. It’s in these fleeting moments that a more fulfilling album can be approximated, but the disconnect between supposition and reality only grows further as the music treads on.
As
Digital Love nears its concluding track, Beule tells us that “there’s nothing I can do or say” and that he’s “so sorry.” Hackneyed moments such as this are unfortunately par for the course on Vitja’s sophomore affair. For all the dull flashes they display, Vitja simply don’t possess enough prowess to maintain interest or incite a lasting impression. They clearly want to fit a niche that’s on the experimental side, but other than some productive touches, they’re unable to escape the confines of a metalcore blueprint that’s both tried and tired. Maybe next time they’ll heed their own commentary and show their love for music in a less artificial manner.
