Review Summary: BFMV continue their plunge into the depths of irreversible failure.
For all intents and purposes we will call it the Nickelback model; the Nickelback model can be summed up as the act of expending as minimal effort possible writing a new record while simultaneously making sure the finished product has only tasteless and irrelevant subject matter. Bullet for my Valentine’s latest release,
Temper Temper, fits this category like a stinky foot in a perfectly-fitting shoe; it is a lazy attempt at hitting the mainstream at large and achieving widespread commercial success like the aforementioned band; but unbeknownst to BFMV, they are in a tough spot because realistically they are too “heavy” (and I use the term quite loosely) to achieve that kind of success given the current musical trends in America. So, the end result isn’t massive accumulation of money, but rather a record of colossal failure and utter embarrassment.
Whatever first impressions couldn’t tell you, the music itself does at record pace. In case you thought you may have been hallucinating, yes, they seriously did write a sequel to “Tears Don’t Fall”; yes, there really are also songs titled “Livin’ Life on the Edge of a Knife” & “POW.” But on to the actual review we go. “Breaking Point” commences the album and wows us with lines like
Everyone’s got a breaking point, don’t push me because I won’t back down. Even the quasi-breakdown is half-assed and uninspired utilizing a chugga-chugga groove that couldn't be any simpler. Throw in a robotic guitar solo and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.
The song structures are all precisely what we’d expect- rudimentary and predictable at best. The melodies are also much of the same, and Bullet For My Valentine aren’t even attempting to hide the fact they’re striving solely for commercial success.
Temper Temper sounds exactly like their recent records except with even less effort put forth. There is virtually not a single innovative idea on this entire record which spans over 44 long minutes. Further exemplifying their lyrical prowess, or lack thereof, is the title track which poetically proclaims -
Temper temper, time to explode (HEY!) Feels good when I lose control…Temper temper, time to explode (HEY!) Chamber’s empty, time to reload. Talk about cliché. Of course there are the obligatory ballads, one of which is “POW”, where the vocalist cries about who knows what; you be the judge -
This feeling’s overwhelming, it just won’t go away, I’m captive in this nightmare, and this is where I’ll stay. The vocals are riveting indeed.
In closing, to call Bullet for my Valentine “metal” is to bang your cousin and call her Eva Mendes. It will be a glorious day when this band stops plaguing us with their putrid music. In the meantime, we can all share a laugh and toast to real men like Chuck Schuldiner, Dimebag, Peter Steele and all the other metal gods who had balls of iron and metal flowing through their veins. As the saying goes, "you can't appreciate the good without also experiencing the bad."
