Review Summary: Hold your breath and count to four.
Whose bright idea was this?
Canadian quartet Billy Talent, as anyone who takes even a remotely passing interest in them knows, create their best work at a hyperactive degree of high-speed excitability. That howled intro to "Line and Sinker", the anthemic chorus of "Red Flag", the opening riff of "Devil in a Midnight Mass"…plenteous rock energy that made the band’s first two records – 2005’s
Billy Talent and 2007’s
Billy Talent II - so much fun to listen to. Thousands have turned out to see the band at gigs and festivals worldwide the past few years, with a strong, dedicated fanbase. This is a band who have garnered a decent level of success with the distinctive sound they have established for themselves.
The latest installment in the Billy Talent saga has arrived in the form of
Billy Talent III. Everything that was once exciting and interesting about the band that we came to know over the course of
I and
II has been distilled, filtered, dumbed-down and dulled. This isn’t even a slight exaggeration or hyperbole – we are talking absolutely everything here. Vocalist Ben Kowalewicz - a wonderfully crazy motherf
ucker on the best of days, an acquired taste on the worst - only has occasional splurts of emotion in his singing, sounding mostly phoned in and uninspired. The rhythm section has devolved into robotic dross, suspiciously very low in the album’s overall mix. Even guitar/hair extraordinaire Ian D’Sa, who has been able to bring some redeeming features to the band’s weakest moments, is on autopilot – either his riffs are weak throw-togethers ("Rusted From the Rain", "Sudden Movements") or knockoffs of his own arpeggios and chord progressions of songs past ("Devil On My Shoulder", "White Sparrows"). And his backing vocals, at one stage an essential element of the BT sound, are barely used at all.
The jury’s out as to why this has occurred, especially at a make-or-break time for the band. Whatever their excuse, it simply can’t make up for just how bland the band has become. If you’re not on the verge of comatose by the album’s ending, take a flick through the lyrics booklet. Cover your mouth as you read, both in shock how sloppy Talent have become as lyricists, but also to prevent yourself from throwing up all over everything. Perhaps the worst offender is the bitch-done-me-wrong moaning of "Pocketful of Dreams":
“Vanity’s her only charity/And she makes donations at the Tiffany’s/Life is hard without a credit card to get by”.
Seriously, gentlemen? It gets worse when the chorus hits, too: “You’re too scared to try/Cause you might break a nail”. Please! With lyrics like that, the band themselves are worse off than the girl they are trying to frame as the pathetic one. Other atrocities include rhyming “ground” with “ground” ("The Dead Can’t Testify"), a lame stalker ode ("Diamond on a Landmine") and a quasi-sequel to the themes of Nothing To Lose that fails completely to retain the emotion and power found on that track ("Saint Veronika"). It’s confusing at first, followed by frustrating and culminating into just plain terrible.
There’s not a lot left to say about
Billy Talent III. It’s the soundtrack to a band pointlessly throwing away everything they have worked for to create a sound that won’t please old fans and won’t secure any new ones. Third time’s a charm? No such luck, boys.
