Review Summary: A stale dish from a Soviet cantine.
The story of metalcore bands turning to butt rock is as old as time itself. There are comments on the subject to be found on the walls of Egyptian pyramids and in the writings preserved on Sumerian clay tablets. Through the course of human history, the general sentiment remains unchanged: when that happens, it usually sucks. Polish metalcore stalwarts Frontside were unable to escape that ancient plague as well. Their 2014 LP is adorned with the definitive cock rock cover and bears the most cock rock title imaginable (“Business is Personal”). There are, however, some redeeming features to this miserable tale. Those features don’t make the album itself better, no. It’s still bad. But they explain why Frontside managed to overcome that debacle, emerge a couple of albums later with minimal damage to their reputation, and go back to their no-frills metalcore without flinching.
First of all, it wasn’t a one-way street for Frontside. Normally, when a metalcore band goes the commercial way there is no turning back. Once that happens, you can be sure that whenever such a band claims, “We are back to being heavy!” or “this is going to be our heaviest album ever!” it means that they will throw a couple of lame breakdowns into the mix of cheap electronics and overproduced clean vocals and nothing will change for the better. However, in this case, Frontside really did go back to the heavy sh*t when they claimed they did and “Zmartwychwstanie” that followed their two “rock” albums was just as brutal and uncompromising as the LPs that preceded them. In hindsight, it’s like Frontside did a side project without formally announcing it or changing their name or line up, which lasted for two albums and was done when it was done. Overall, it wasn’t really the case of going commercial as metalcore bands normally do, adding sh*tty dubstep or asinine electropop to their songs and processing their guitar sound into oblivion. This is more like what Soilwork guys did when they created The Night Flight Orchestra to pay homage to old-school rock and pop styles. Frontside just didn’t bother to create a separate vehicle/moniker for that.
Except this stuff can’t dream of reaching the level of quality of The Night Flight Orchestra. In fact, it can’t dream of reaching anything other than rock bottom. Think of the dumbest and most unoriginal retro rock eighties-worshiping band, and it still would be better than this ultimate borefest, because even the worst of those throwback bands still at least know how to be catchy and have fun. What we have here is a pastiche of various rock styles from the seventies which is as competent as it is boring. Frontside clearly knows the basics of the sound that they’re aiming for, but they never move beyond those basics. The bulk of the album consists of standard-issue old-school riffs, the kind that was already thoroughly explored by various hard rock and glam rock bands back in the seventies. All mid-tempo, all familiar, all basic as f*ck. And that intro… You know, Frontside used to be actually good at that. Their intros normally did a good job at setting the mood for the album and guiding the listener’s expectations. This time, however, „Tych kilka słów” (“Those Few Words”) is just two minutes of dumb pathetic posturing. Supremely irritating stuff that makes me want to forget Polish.
However, what kills the album is another aspect that is normally one of the band’s main strengths and used to work wonders until that moment. Even the band’s previous heavier albums showed that Auman’s clean vocals weren’t just serviceable, but almost as great as the various types of harsh singing that he employs. So, I
was not expecting problems in that department. However, the vocals sound so bland throughout the album that I had to doublecheck that it is indeed Auman who sings on it. Just couldn’t believe that such a versatile singer could be reduced to this samey diluted mess. That is the final nail in the coffin for “Sprawa jest osobista.” It was supposed to be a set of fun rock songs with big choruses, but those choruses just can’t work with such uninspired singing. Auman sounds a bit livelier when he gets closer to his usual harsher style, and the guest singers try their best to inject some energy into these songs, but overall, the album is just bland. The same riffs that are indistinguishable from each other, the same choruses that don’t work just plod along and put you to sleep.
The instances when the album deviates from its usual state of grey mush are extremely rare and are not always for the better. However, this dish is so tasteless and vapid that you notice any additional flavor, even if it actually makes the dish taste even worse. “Legenda” is the only fast-paced song on the album, and it sees Auman temporarily abandoning monotonous clean singing in favor of high-pitched squealing. I don’t know if he is trying to channel Brian Johnson or Rob Halford, but the end result sounds forced and cartoonish. There are Polish singers who can do a much better Halford impression, just check out „This War Machine” by Turbo. “Legenda” however… well, at least it reaches the “so bad its good” level instead of just being bland.
Otherwise… Well, “Polska” (“Poland”) is a self-aware and sarcastic portrait of a typical Polish guy, but you obviously need to understand Polish to get that. Also, the closing track “Nieważne” (“Not Important”) is mostly just as boring as the rest of the album with Auman whispering blandly over some snoozy guitars, but it concludes with some nice riffs that sound closer to nineties alt. rock than to the older styles. Which gives us a hint at the direction Frontside probably should have taken with this album. Maybe it would have worked better if the band hadn’t gone too far into the past, but instead paid homage to nineties grunge and alt. rock. As it stands… well, at least the music videos are still funny. They are not hysterical like the ones made for the band’s previous album “Zniszczyć wszystko,” but still quite ridiculous. Musically, this is not the worst album I’ve ever heard, but an absolutely faceless one.
