Review Summary: Covering covered territory.
For a compilation of covers divided between mostly metal classics and comic renditions of rock & pop closer to home, Alexi Laiho and his band casually reel off some unexpected twists, which ironically may even turn out to be more metal than some of their own creations. Expect with these a throng of differing production qualities and timbres, for the majority span over ten year of recording process, either as an attention-grab at the end of a limited edition track list, or as a designated country edition speciality. Take, for example,
Britney Spears’
“Oops!... I Did It Again”, a running internet joke a few years back to further extend the then predictable side of Laiho’s humour, and the duration of
Are You Dead Yet? Rewind six or so years and you’ll be playing back the last two songs of 1999’s
Hatebreeder deluxe edition through the inclusion of
Stone’s
“No Commands” and
Iron Maiden’s
“Aces High”. It may be easy at a glance to deduce that Children of Bodom are making it painless to attain all these party songs and rarities in one neat package, but in reality, Japan the US and Europe each share a slight permutation of the same track list, plus-minus the slight degree of difference. Whichever way though, they’ve most likely been all heard before at some stage, savour the four that were recorded exclusively for the purpose of making this extend over one hour, which is easily double the duration of what you’re presumably willing to experience in a single sitting.
But otherwise, there’s something genuinely side-splitting about this record, and (though fleeting) about Laiho endeavouring to be sincere bawling out the eponymous lyrics from
Andrew W.K’s
“She is Beautiful” (from the European version), while of course attempting to reconcile with watery metal standards in the same breadth. Likewise,
Credence Clearwater Revival’s
“Lookin’ Out My Back Door” shares a fair deal of jollity in the twang and blang of banjo quasi-metal, and remains as an epitome of a gradual evolution from early anguish toward more untailored fun. With such an abundance of variety here, it’s hard to focus solely on their most arguable influences, and instead remain subtly bemused by their other choice of habit. Janne Warman for example shows us how to deposit (recklessly) a provisional new age pad solo in just about anything without agreeing first with context. All up it’s either justifiably awful, or partially amusing but never quite as entertaining as what this it’s marketed to be. Even though most of its content is derived from an applicable source, they’re regrettably spoilt by lacklustre attempts at comedy.
