Review Summary: Would you look at me now? Can you tell I'm a mess?
At this point, the deterioration that fueled the creation of 1996’s The Great Southern Trendkill is well-documented. However, I’m not sure how much this album’s duality is ever truly acknowledged. It could very well be Pantera’s most ambitious effort, set apart by some of their most experimental textures along with a persistent air of self-loathing that feels like the macho antagonism of the last couple releases coming home to roost. Unfortunately, that self-loathing also leads to what could essentially be considered self-sabotage.
Perhaps “War Nerve” is the most striking example of this seeming sabotage in action. The song starts off incredibly strong with a punishing opening riff compounded by diabolically layered trade-off vocals for the first couple verses only for Anselmo to all but completely halt the momentum in its tracks a couple times to let out garbled attempts to ramble about God knows what. Past albums certainly had their share of songs that were well-performed despite the vocals, but now it feels like Anselmo is literally going out of his way to make the presentation as unpleasant as possible.
The other heavy tracks further reinforce the inconsistent quality that has come to be synonymous with Pantera around this period. “Drag the Waters” has earned its staple status thanks to its simple but hooky main riff and straightforward structure while the layered shrieks on “13 Steps to Nowhere” end up being oddly catchy. On the flip side, the sudden blasts and dissonant shrieks infamously courtesy of Seth ‘Ha Ha, You’re Dead’ Putnam make the opening title track and “Suicide Note, Pt. II” a little too abrasive for my fragile ears while others like “Living Through Me (Hell’s Wrath)” and “(Reprise) Sandblasted Skin” somewhat lose their way with their tangent structures.
Oddly enough for a late-era Pantera album, the most melodic tracks end up being the strongest on here. “10’s” may not be a full-on ballad but its grungy presentation plays out a more effective date of “This Love” or “Hard Lines Sunken Cheeks” while “Suicide Note, Pt. I” is an acoustic ballad that’s effective even without the piercing sludge-grind of its counterpart. And of course, the seven-minute “Floods” earns its legendary reputation thanks to an appropriately apocalyptic atmosphere and a sweeping solo that Dimebag had allegedly been working on since he was a teenager.
Considering the rather frontloaded song presentation of past Pantera releases and the worsening personal relationships of those involved, it isn’t too surprising that The Great Southern Trendkill is such a fractured effort. It offers the same inconsistent tracks and borderline obnoxious performances, but the personal despair that overwhelms the anger make the peaks and valleys more intriguing to examine. It’s not pleasant to have on but it’s easy to see why fans consider it to be one of their most underrated albums overall. If Vulgar Display of Power is something that I almost reluctantly enjoy, then The Great Southern Trendkill is something that I wish I liked more.
