Review Summary: Burn My Ears
In a recent interview, Machine Head’s vocalist, rhythm guitarist and primary songwriter Robb Flynn made an interesting revelation about the outfit’s most iconic track, ‘Davidian’. Originally, the powerful, repeated battle cry of ‘Let freedom ring with a shotgun blast’ was to be the comically bizkitesque catcall, ‘Get the f*ck up to the bone-breaking groove’. This line was adjusted at the suggestion of
Burn My Eyes’ producer Colin Richardson who felt that audiences wouldn’t be ready for such a ridiculous lyric, at least not this early in Machine Head’s career. So, let us collectively give thanks to Satan, Odin and all the other deities metalheads pretend to worship for Richardson’s foresight. He didn’t just nuke that abysmal lyric- he also suggested moving ‘Davidian’ to the very top of the tracklist. The result? A classic groove metal anthem born kicking and screaming into immortality, leaving behind only an amusing anecdote.
The incredibly bizarre thing about
Unatoned, though, is Mr. Richardson is again listed in the production credits, begging the question, where was he when he should’ve been vetoing the avalanche of bad ideas found here? To be clear, I don’t fancy myself a songwriter. My 18-month old gives me raised eyebrows for my efforts when I improvise nonsense rhymes to try and convince her to eat her peas. But one has to wonder: would it have killed our guardian angel Colin to pipe up a little more? A gentle but firm hand on Robb’s shoulder, ‘are you sure you want to do that?’ ‘Do you think that’s a good idea?’ ‘Do you really want to recycle that again?’ ‘Should that really be there?’
Or maybe just, ‘What the hell are you doing?’
Sonically,
Unatoned offers a groove-meets-modern metal hybrid, accessible thrash with sly nods to adjacent subgenres, all delivered with a glossy, bludgeoning sheen. Beefy percussion hits hard, riffs are chunky and textured, and Flynn’s slightly drawn vocal sits a shade too high in the mix, but cuts through the instrumentation well enough regardless. It’s a decently-oiled machine, ba dm ts- but the songwriting is a creativity vacuum. The record sways drunkenly between too-busy thrash anthems and syruppy balladry, all of which lack diversity yet still manage to feel incohesive. While much of the record’s content could be charitably filed under
inoffensively middle-of-the-road, ‘Outsider’, ‘Addicted To Pain’ and ‘Shards’ are some of the feeblest compositions the band has ever released. Any conviction afforded by the production is unceremoniously acid-washed away by the limp riffs, recycled ideas and choruses that feel like placeholders left in out of convenience. Of particular note is ‘Shards’’ pale imitation of ‘Imperium’’s central hook, a moment so off-putting it borders on parody. Second track and true album opener ‘Atomic Revelations’ is one of the rare occasions where the guitarwork is somewhat satisfying, but the smack of tired familiarity in Flynn’s vocals and the inexcusably drawn-out chorus prevent a great deal of the impact from landing in any meaningful way, and renders the song as uneven at best and forgettable at worst. Which is perhaps rather a fitting summation of the album overall.
The strongest, or at least most memorable moments on
Unatoned come when the groovy simplicity of Machine Head’s earliest records is wheeled out, the gang attach electrodes to its nipples and an attempt is made to get some energy surging through the bloated carcass. ‘Unbound’, ‘These Scars Won’t Define Us’ and ‘Bonescraper’ are clunky but fun enough to qualify as highlights, having the thrash basics down and managing to be musically entertaining, if wholly unoriginal. The same can be said of the vaguely impactful chorus and breakdown of ‘Bleeding Me Dry’, which is able to pin down some remnants of nostalgia found in the strongest corners of MH’s discography. It can’t stick the landing, unfortunately, and like much of the album finds itself buried under a litany of unintentionally hilarious Flynnerisms.
Sick of all the compromising
Bullsh*t also agonising
Temperature is rising as I’m clenching a fist
Stop with all the plagiarising
We are fire cauterising
Not apologising
I’m the king of the sick
- Unbound
A dread comes over me in moments of my weakness
It suffocates me as I contemplate the bleakness
- These Scars Won’t Define Us
Love is just a loaded gun
- Bonescraper
There’s no pain without living life
This liquor helps cope with the strife
We talked of you being my wife
Picket fences, some kids, and two bikes
- Bleeding Me Dry
Machine Head have never been renowned for lyrical brilliance over their three decade plus run, but they’ve often managed to balance brute-force aggression with a boneheaded sincerity in ways both purposeful and endearing.
The Blackening remains a standout because it showed the band were capable of more than just fury- they could be intelligent, provocative, even nuanced when they tried. Whatever may be occurring on
Unatoned, it’s the antithesis of that rare equilibrium. Its slower cuts, like ‘Not Long For This World’, and especially ‘Scorn’ (a song so Aaron Lewis it’s a wonder he didn’t write it), are prime examples- awkwardly straight-faced and utterly lacking in self-awareness. Lyrically, it’s not the subject matter that’s the problem here (or throughout the album at large)- it’s often relevant and well-intentioned- but the shallow, cringe-inducing execution that drains it of any impact.
Given the loose throughline connecting
Of Kingdom and Crown and
Unatoned, this follow-up is a far drier and substantially thinner affair than its predecessor.
Of Kingdom and Crown was itself a far cry from the band’s best material (or even their best output of the last decade) but its concept and unashamed prostration at the altar of
The Blackening gave it a reverent charm even if the results were mixed. In contrast,
Unatoned feels like
Through The Ashes Of Empires diluted down with
Catharsis- so how much you enjoy it will depend entirely on how much you feel one would diminish the other. The relentless peaks and valleys of Machine Head’s rickety career coaster has been well-established. every adrenaline-pumping vertical loop followed by a streamlined, weaker barrel roll. Inversions of expectation usually follow and are oftentimes successful, but never maintained for more than a two-album run.
Unatoned, undoubtedly, is a dilution.
OKAC has a funny acronym and was certainly a step up from
Catharsis, but that’s like suggesting oxygen is better than arsenic. Taking a step backwards at this point, after perhaps the most average LP of the band’s discography, is a remarkably disappointing outcome, and another underwhelming release to tuck under the group’s collective belt. It may be better than
Catharsis, but say what you like about
Burning Red and
Supercharger- at least they had accidental entertainment value.
