Review Summary: Trying to remain relevant and failing in the process.
Often, when I revisit a relatively successful album, I reflect on the overall impact that the album and band had within the world of music at the time. In short, was the album successful because it represented a true musical tour de force, or was its success the result of other factors extending beyond the music itself? In most situations, it’s the latter. For example, like others, I thoroughly enjoyed AFI’s album Sing the Sorrow. It was easily one of the most influential albums during the latter part of my youth. However, despite how highly I value this album, I would argue that its overall success and influence is more directly related to the climate of the music scene at the time of its release. To help validate my claim, I’ve played the album numerous times for my own children, who are roughly the same age as I was when the album was released. Despite enjoying the album, it hasn’t resonated with either of them in the same manner.
In contrast, I would argue that although the success of Underoath’s three album-span from Define the Great Line to Disambiguation benefited from the current music climate, I think that these three albums differ because they transcend the era in which they were released. Certainly, I don’t think that these albums are grandiose musical accomplishments, but merely that the message delivered through their music spans greater generational shifts. In my opinion, a primary reason for this includes the band’s seemingly coherent sound and messaging. To this day, the weight and impact of each album can be felt. Despite flaws, songs like “Moving for the Sake of Motion”, and “Who Will Guard the Guardians”, among others showcase the entire band in lockstep and this is predominately what resonates with listeners. The passion and energy ebb and flow within each album, drawing listeners in.
Hence, it’s bewildering exactly why Underoath decided to reform and continue their journey as a band. Erase Me and Voyeurist showcase a disjoint band. Both albums seep with resentment and conflict. In fact, the band released a well-documented set of videos showcasing the issues they faced, which ultimately led to the creation of Voyeurist. Although Voyeurist is riddled with its own set of issues, its release seemed like a necessary and healthy step for the members of the band. Voyeurist’s greatest strength was its messy, yet heartfelt delivery.
Based on Underoath’s trajectory from Erase Me to Voyeurist, I optimistically anticipated listening to The Place After This One. Unfortunately, I wasn’t prepared for the emphatic assault on my ears. Instead of releasing an album built upon the ideas and energy channeled into Voyeurist, they’ve altered directions entirely. This time, they’ve chosen to embrace a mixed bag of sounds and retread overworn lyrical themes.
On first listen, it’s apparent that Underoath strived to employ every trick and gimmick possible. The entire album is littered with too many sound effects to list but vocal shifts, distorted and varied soundbites, gritty industrial segments, polished electronics, a creepy children’s choir, and a plethora of messy transitions are abundant throughout. It’s entirely possible during the writing process that members of the band collectively felt that a barrage of sounds would keep listeners engaged but instead, the entire experience hinges on sensory overload. Sonically, each song is a disjoint mess, and the result is an album which lacks focus and direction. As an album purist, listening to The Place After This One front-to-back was a painstaking challenge and an adventure that left me exhausted.
While some albums can be exhausting in the most rewarding way, like Radiohead’s album Kid A, The Place After This One doesn’t fit into that category. Regarding the album’s flow and production, there are three major issues, which include pacing, dynamic range, and the overuse of soundbites and effects. Focusing on pacing first, most of the album moves along at an abrupt 4/4-time signature and there’s little variation throughout its twelve songs. The exception being “Outsider”, which is the album closer. It’s a much-needed change, but unfortunately it arrives too late. The homogeneous pace makes differentiating songs difficult and everything begins to meld together. Next, it’s important to note that the album’s recording lacks dynamic range. Everything is abrasive and loud. Every sound produced fights to be the center of attention within the mix. Listeners are never provided with an opportunity to recover from the immense wall of noise. Finally, soundbites and other effects are carelessly littered throughout the entire album. While these sonic elements are often used to add dimension within a song, Underoath treats them as staple instruments and rely heavily on their use. The issue is that these baseless sounds serve no purpose. Instead, they strip the album of life, leaving behind a cold and harsh shell. These issues are further exacerbated due to a heavy degree of compression that’s been applied to most of the album, thus creating a flat sound and overall mundane listening experience. It’s even more frustrating to know that the production decisions that were made were intentional. Underoath are well known for taking great care and pride in the flow and design of each of their albums. However, it’s difficult to share their vision this time around.
Another significant problem area includes the vocals and corresponding lyrics. Underoath have never been formidable vocalists or lyricists, but their messages have always maintained a sense of honesty, which had great impact on listeners. Within The Place After This One, abrasive industrial rock segments, which are backed by Spencer’s harsh vocals, contrast with sugar-coated pop segments delivered by Aaron. The interplay between both vocalists isn’t too dissimilar to everything they’ve released since They’re Only Changing Safety, but the transitions are more jarring, and each transition seems forced. The composition and final execution give the impression that Spencer and Aaron wrote their own segments in isolation and then forced everything together at the last moment. Additionally, repeated words and phrases exist throughout and are most likely the direct result of the predominantly pop-centered compositions. Occasionally, the repeated word or phrase is part of an effect, such as the word “back”, which is used along with a reverb electronic effect in the song “Devil”. However, more commonly, the repeated word or phrase is intentional and seems to merely exist for the sake of filling space within the song. Songs including “Survivor’s Guilt” and “Vultures” are among the worst offenders with “guilt, guilt, guilt” and “goodbye, goodbye, goodbye”, being repeated ad nauseam.
To add insult to injury, Underoath once again failed to shed certain trends which began post-hiatus. As expected, there’s a plethora of trivial expletives which don’t add to the music in any meaningful way. Normally, I wouldn’t bother to mention this except for the fact that they seem to have doubled down, making it even more evident that they’ve learned how to curse, intentionally overemphasizing each expletive, similar to a child. Additionally, faith is a predominant theme throughout their songs. For example, “Loss”, contains the following, “You can pray but you’re always gonna carry the weight… what a waste.” What’s interesting is that they currently spend more time focusing on faith based topics than they did throughout their previous releases. It’s as if they are incapable of moving past the topic which they seem to resent the most. The lyrics throughout The Place After This One are also quite simple. To provide an example from the song “Teeth”, “You come alive every single bite. Flesh in your mouth, smile out of spite. How’s it taste?” represents the peak of their creativity. Finally, every song is fueled by anger and Underoath make it abundantly clear that they are mad and angry at… something. To be fair, a degree of anger has always been present within their lyrics, but what makes The Place After This One frustrating is that it feels as though the source of their anger is unjustified. For this reason, the album plays out as if it were written by a bunch of angsty teenagers. Things become awkward upon remembering that Underoath consists of middle-aged men who have had successful careers in the music industry. Thus, relating to Underoath and their messages is very difficult at this point in time.
Ultimately, Underoath made a major misstep with this release and in my opinion, there are few redeeming qualities. However, their efforts on this album are not entirely in vain. Aaron’s voice sounds more refined and his work behind the drums is a highlight throughout the album. The pop focused song “Shame” provides an opportunity for Aaron’s voice to shine and is one of the few songs I don’t feel an instant urge to skip over. Also, despite being buried with numerous vocal effects, there exist moments when Spencer’s voice sounds powerful and commanding, such as in “And Then There Was Nothing”. It’s also apparent that Chris and Tim contributed greatly to many of the soundscapes throughout the album. However, it’s a shame that so many elements and layers were added, which serve as unnecessary distractions. Perhaps a good base idea exists somewhere within the album, but I’m not willing to sort through the mess to figure it out.
The Place After This One is a prime example of what happens when a band lacks a unified vision and guiding direction. While Erase Me was a distinct change in direction for the band and Voyeurist saw the band work through their differences to accomplish a seemingly impossible task, The Place After This One showcases a band that’s desperately trying to remain relevant and failing miserably. Reflecting upon characteristics of great albums, which include the three album span within Underoath’s own discography, The Place After This One is a far stretch from being considered a sonic masterpiece and they’ve also failed to offer anything of value at this point in their career. While future generations will revisit their heartfelt works, spanning 2006-2010, it’s safe to say that The Place After This One is entirely insignificant.
