Review Summary: Ladies and gentlemen, this is Blowsight and they are "so damn hardcore".
Let's take a trip back six months, shall we? An extremely attractive bit of stuff is stood waiting for the appearance of
Sonic Syndicate (don't ask), patiently indulging the two support acts. Next to that person is this reviewer, not so patiently waiting for the main act to get a move on. The first group is a minor success, a local band who probably got their chance through begging, not minding who they play with. They're pretty good. Next up, we're “treated” by the sight of four grown men sporting ridiculous hairstyles and wearing copious amounts of eyeliner. Ladies and gentlemen, this is
Blowsight and they are “hardcore”.
Not really, but as they launch into lead single “Bandit For Life”, where we learn how to spell said career choice, we're led to unflinchingly believe that these manly men are “so damn hardcore”. One must assume they're either being ironic or know just how silly they are, because many of the tracks on Dystopia Lane are smulchy ballads ridden with angst, pouring their hearts out on the subjects of love and obviously important moments in their lives so far. Hardcore, I know. Throw in some liberal piano intros and gang vocal choruses and you've got the ultimate way to ruin your evening.
So why bother listen to this album after already being subjected to the by-numbers guff live on stage, I hear every one of you ask. You see, when Blowsight aren't singing about falling in love with their accessory cabinet, they're actually trying something a little different. Well, by “a little different”, more like “lots of different” all crammed into as many tracks as possible. An attempt to pigeon-hole the band into a particular genre of music, aside from “Scandinavian”, would be misguided, since even album opener “I Wish You 666” (ignore the silly, silly name) whips from a
Bullet For My Valentine-esque brand of metal in the verses to a sing-along chorus with angelic melodies, ending each section with a little growl that would make Anders Fridén proud – on an off day. We're then gifted with “Three Words (Under Ordinary)”, another nonsensical title (repeated ad nauseum throughout the song, as you'll have to get used to throughout the album) which couldn't really be further from the style they started this session with.
Working through the rest of the album soon becomes a real chore, as each track becomes increasingly formulaic and you might be forgiven for thinking that a couple of them were penned by songwriter-of-the-century Chad Kroeger. The arrangements behind the questionable content isn't exactly bad, per se; the oh-so-slick production has ensured the guitars are loud and clear, crisply ringing out over another Ville Valo-soundalike and there's computerised bleeps and whirrs now and again to keep things fresh. An odd choice of cover track to wind matters down is the ever-popular “Poker Face”. However, with all emotion stripped out of whatever this travesty of a song is actually about, I'd still be pushed to say there's a yet been a version better than ol' Meat Girl herself's.
The massive problem with Blowsight is their split-personality addiction, attempting to please as many fanbases as they can with their inoffensive offerings. Unfortunately for them, they don't seem to have any hardcore fans to satiate their hardcore appetite and aren't going to win any by standing on the middle of the road. It's a shame, because with such a strong opening and key moments that are catchy as hell, they almost deserve to make an actual name for themselves. However, Mr. Bassist, if you ever get the opportunity to tell me to “cheer up” again during any future performance, I will ensure it's the last 2.5 you ever get. Objective schmobjective, eh?
