Review Summary: Can't even do what it says on the tin
Following in the footsteps of a number of slightly better established metalcore bands, perhaps most notably Parkway Drive, Breakdown Of Sanity continue the trend of metal for the younger generation, which unfortunately means more of what we’ve come to expect. That said, however, on the surface, there seems nothing wrong with engineering a band’s music exclusively around heavy breakdowns, at least not from a marketing standpoint. Emmure, who many will accept as a lowest common denominator band, have gained a fair amount of attention (whether this is for good or bad reasons is debateable, but still) within their respective field, which, as far as I can tell, is breakdowns, breakdowns and more breakdowns (or, to use this website’s colloquialism, ‘brodown’) held together by an orgy of cacophonous vibrations provided by very low-tuned guitars, and husky, deep-throated half-growls. The target demographic of this kind of music have their own reasons for responding so positively to such ‘music’, but one of the many things that Emmure are guilty of is completely misunderstanding the usage, and application, of breakdowns as a musical device. The best informal and non-technical definition I have heard for a breakdown is, ‘if music were sex, the breakdown would be the orgasm’. Whilst this viewpoint is possibly a little coarse, it’s a fine way of describing where and how a breakdown should be used; sparingly. In metal genres, they are a point of impact, a vicious jolt out of the song’s structure, segueing into a musical interlude. Of course, the more frequently they are used in a throwaway manner in a band’s music, the less they serve their purpose. They become expected, trite, and monotonous. Unsurprisingly, this is a trait Breakdown Of Sanity are guilty of also.
Unapologetically naming your band after its only selling point (and not an even unique one at that), and attempting to shoehorn in some dark afterthought vaguely alluding to madness is not really the best way to get your band taken seriously, but that’s only a secondary concern after listening to the music itself. The accepted modern blueprint for playing heavy music is followed to a T; crushing riffs that occasionally showcase flashes of invention (‘Story Of A Stranger’, ‘Deadline’) but are, for the most part, quite unspectacular. The vocal styles also don’t stray too far from the path of genre acceptability, blending the usual slushy mixture of faux-death growls, angry screams, and some auto-tuned and non-auto-tuned cleans thrown in. Lyrically, it’s your typical mix of Edgar Allen Poe and Lovecraft-inspired postmodern drivel, with post-emo style wailings used to remind listeners that life isn’t fair, and is lonely, and is sad. Realistically, the music and lyrics are about as cohesive as a gun turret that’s used to protect a greenhouse. It’s uninspired, silly, and bound to jar in unpleasant ways.
The stance most fans of this kind of music take is, ‘if it’s got enough breakdowns for me to swing my arms and legs around inconveniencing everyone else around me to, then I’ll like it!’ and in the interest of this community, I feel it is now time to address the breakdowns on this particular album. I’m sure it is of no surprise to anyone that they are frequent and consistent, with many songs featuring multiple. The problem is there’s nothing special about them, either. The same open string chugging is used over and over, and whether accompanied by an electronic style glitching (‘Story Of A Stranger’), censorship bleeps (‘We Are The Wall’), or just plain roaring (every song, including the two mentioned), they all sound the same. Scream, open string chugging, repeat. This is especially unfortunate also, as the breakdowns are the only real way to tell the songs apart. Save from interludes, there is very little variation in the music, allowing it to meld together into the world’s longest angry fart, with naught but a hint of irony about it. Ordinarily, there wouldn’t be much call for criticism on an album like this, as one could just say, ‘it’s like every one of its precursors, but watered down’; but that’s just the issue; it’s not watered down. It’s an insanely aggressive album that's also terribly repetitive and provides nothing but mediocrity. ‘That’s not that unforgivable, there are plenty of mediocre albums out there’. Yes there are. But when a band, who clearly pride themselves on their breakdowns so much that they decided to include it in the name of their band, cannot even come up with three completely unique ones on one album? That’s beyond mediocrity.
