Review Summary: The Walking Chug has arrived, ladies and gentlemen. At this point, it's as overdone as this summary statement.
Question: what should a band do when five of their core members leaves, then a replacement member leaves, and then they basically have to form a new lineup from scratch? For one, probably change their name. There have been plenty of examples of when the loss of even a singer hurt the band (Burden Of A Day, Saosin), and also plenty where a core group leaving hurt the band (Threat Signal, original Queensryche). Though sometimes a regime change works (Kingdom of Giants), most times, it’s a recipe for destruction, a recipe that Woe decided to happily blend.
Numbers was decent only as a guilty pleasure, and primarily only because of Tyler Carter and Mike Bohn, so what did the band think would happen without them? Terrible, terrible woe (couldn’t help it) and destruction across the land. Hide your kids, hide your wives, for the chug monster is coming.
I’m not exaggerating. The guitarists monotonously chug throughout the whole album, rarely varying from the bottom three strings on the neck, and you won’t be able to tell a difference between the lead guitar and the rhythm guitar. At least on
Numbers there was some slight experimentation with leads, but this is just boring “br00tal” playing. As for new vocalist Doriano, he sounds exactly like Caleb Shomo, and strains to hit as annoying highs and generic lows that he possibly can. The guy might as well be ripped straight from the expected metalcore frontman book. Clean-vocal wise, the singer is decent, but the screams are so horrible that Woe can’t get a pass vocally. What? You were hoping for other instruments? Nope, no sir. You only get God-awful guitar and vocals, and mediocre drums that grow very boring, very quickly. Maybe the bass player left while he still could, because there’s pretty much no appearance of bass guitar on the album. Electronically, the creative flourishes that seamlessly weaved through the tracks on
Numbers are cheesy and boring here, used for things like police sirens and dogs barking (no, I don’t know why).
“Family First” is a merciful ballad for two reasons: Doriano doesn’t heave into the mike, and the mud that’s been shoved down the listener’s throat from the persistent 1’s and 0’s is replaced with some nice acoustic chords. “F.Y.I.” is the only memorable heavy song, partly because its intense delivery will burn it into your mind, and partly because the vocalist actually pulls off some decent screams. What?! You were expecting quality?!!
Lyrically, it’s like eating a nuke. At no point does the group show any inkling of lyrical talent, not even a tiny dot. There’s plenty of f-words and accusations for the angered fourteen-year old, as well as plenty braggadocio statements. Well, WIM at least had the chance of being mediocre on
Numbers, but this pretty much burned them into Hell. Thankfully, the Chug Monster has now disbanded, probably headed to teach kids how not to become successful musicians.
