Review Summary: The thinking man's death n' roll band
Never judge a book by its cover. When confronted with the nugget of information that a band by the name of The Cumshots once roamed the face of the Earth, the natural reaction is not likely to involve taking said act seriously. This likelihood further diminishes when one of the members is revealed to be a national television celebrity of a comedic nature, with the band’s main claim to fame being a pair of environment activists copulating on stage during a concert in 2004. As such, the fact that the act’s discography is solid all the way through is bound to come as a shocker. Four albums document the trek from pummelling death n’ roll vitriol to winding, varied tracks with a wide swath of influences, with every step along the way offering a rewarding listen. The subject matter feels largely serious and is deeply depressed throughout, with recurring themes being the futility of life, inescapable mortality and misguided escapism. All this under The Cumshots moniker – talk about a mismatched label!
Just Quit Trying is a mid-career sweet spot of the band’s early wallop and subsequent experimental leanings. The core of the style is still firmly rooted in a fusion of death metal with hard rock, but the attack is modernised in comparison to what was around when the style was pioneered. The infectious opening riff of “Praying for Cancer” would fit snugly on Wolverine Blues, but its verse variation turns the dial a few years forward with its harmonic choices and filtering. The riffage also has tendencies to over-reach far beyond what you’d expect a death n’ roll band to do. There are flawlessly interwoven meandering melody lines (“Punchdrunk on Death”), huge chords which still somehow work in spite of a punk-like ferocity (“Vomitory”), then-fresh metal juggernaut picking intensity arrangements (“Like Pouring Salt on a Slug”), plodding, doom-tinged mournfulness (“Baptised in Broken Glass”), even a borderline flamenco acoustic solo (“Black Silence”). Crucially, regardless of how stylistically rooted any given section may be, the songs are solid and flow well, offering a cohesive album feel.
The subtle over-reaching continues in the rest of the arrangements. Acoustic guitars are very prevalent throughout, often hidden in the shadow and double-tracking what the distorted anchor is doing, adding a subtle sparkle to the proceedings (“Broken”). The strings come out full swing in the interlude of “Bitter Erection”, but the subtly chime behind the riffs before then as well. “Punchdrunk on Love” gets to have some piano in its chorus. The most prominent of these extra arrangement sprinkles are clean backing vocals, softly mixed into the background of a number of tracks, as well as very warm, melodic leads unlike anything you’d expect in the style. Both of these are the work of El Doom, who is almost certainly the main driving force for the eclectic touches throughout if his hollow-body guitar in the video for “I Drink Alone” is anything to go on.
In fact, “I Drink Alone” is a pivotal song for the entirety of the band’s career. The fact the video features genuine looking people seeking solace in alcohol largely dismisses the possibility that the depressed subject matter may just be a ruse, even if the album is full of clunky lyrics that don’t fully take themselves seriously (“The blood of your boyfriend caked on my torso” comes to mind). The track deservedly became the closest to a hit the band ever had, and as it was chock full of El Doom’s clean vocals and subtle non-metal splashes it might have put him in a strong position to continue exploring that musical avenue. The Cumshots’ swansong didn’t see him go full Daron Malakian, but there are prominent clean vocal sections and the experimentation was kicked up a notch. The songs bob and weave, swapping from stoner metal to 70’s organ rock ballad at the flick of a switch, everything is compositionally delightful, but there’s a certain tension in the air that detracts from the experience. By contrast, the chemistry is dead on here, and that along with the successful marriage of a basic stylistic core with slight explorative hints and a nihilistic message makes Just Quit Trying the thinking man’s death n’ roll album the world didn’t know it needed.
