Review Summary: Vulgar, degenerate, and over-the-top, Hollywood Undead's second LP feels as trapped between genres as they've ever been.
Hollywood Undead really came out of nowhere in 2008, and by nowhere, I mean the rotting innards of Myspace. A group of rappers with an Ozzy Osbourne sample took off to become one of the most popular rock-rap groups this side of Linkin Park. However, unlike their influences, Hollywood Undead seem…well…dead-set on partying and making the entire music lifestyle into one big metaphor for crazy. Hollywood Undead’s second studio outing American Tragedy leans toward a more serious tone, but there are just enough crazy lyrics and catchy choruses to be worth listening to.
Hollywood Undead’s debut album Swan Songs, was a weird mix of catchiness and heaviness, giving the Hollywood degenerates a good foot in the door when trying to gather an audience. Aside from occasional ballads like “Black Dahlia”, the entire record felt like a joke, in the parodic sense. These guys just want to have fun, and they don’t care what the reception is (listen to “Everywhere I Go” and you’ll know what I mean). The departure of founding member Deuce does change things up a bit. While Deuce sounded more like a Hybrid Theory-era Chester Bennington, new man Danny sounds like a mix between Bennington and Justin Timberlake of all things. This shift makes many of the quieter songs on American Tragedy feel more personal, and even the more party-crazy songs like “Apologize” get a smoother tone and groove to them.
When the guys get serious, some of the appeal starts to weaken. “Been To Hell” is an anthem with one hell of a chorus punch, and “Levitate” has an upbeat intensity for sure. “Tendencies” in particular has a very strong tempo, making it one of the heaviest and best songs on the album. Those are examples of seriousness that benefit from the bands devil-may-care song style. The first single “Hear Me Now” didn’t impress me at first, and still remains one of the weaker songs on the album. The more ballad-like songs like “Coming Back Down” and “Pour Me” echo “Black Dahlia” a bit, but Hollywood Undead never really integrate them into their image. It’s just hard to listen to them after hearing such blatantly obscene tracks like “Gangsta Sexy.”
But the seriousness ends once you hear lyrics like “you just got a mean boner from a Charlie Scene poster.” Hollywood Undead may be trying to be a bit more serious this time around, but they have a knack for lyrical content, as vulgar as it may be. My initial reaction to hearing phrases like “man sword” was essentially a “can they do that?” Aside from the lyrics, songs like “Bullet”, a song about suicide with what sounds like a glockenspiel playing in the background, just don’t seem to be serious. There’s just no way that these songs are accidentally edgy and vulgar. The Hollywood Undead guys are either completely ignorant at their song content, or they're pulling a fast one on their audience.
If you’re interested in the Deluxe Edition, which has four extra tracks, you’re best to skip it. The last four songs sound like derivative B-sides, never really feeling definitive. Save the cash and stick with the regular version if you can.
American Tragedy is actually a very catchy album and a good collection of wacky party anthems. The problem doesn’t so much lay in the songs themselves, but the band. You really can’t tell if the over-the-top lyrics are intentionally ridiculous or just a bunch of wannabe gangsters trying to be tough guys. Regardless of what is really going through the masked misfits’ minds, American Tragedy is rich with hooks, as simple as they might be, and you’re bound to hear at least a song or two at your local club or bursting from your neighbor’s car stereo. Though they’ve made moves in the right direction, Hollywood Undead still have an identity crisis, one that promotes the party lifestyle while also dragging their feet in surreal balladry. Like every good party, American Tragedy’s at its best when everyone’s dancing and having a good time. Once it’s all over, however, the angst sinks in and the good times are lost in a haze of alcohol and emotional rambling.
