Review Summary: There is a hell. I’ve heard it.
Let’s be honest: this is unacceptable. It’s not redeemable at all, and shouldn’t have garnered the meager attention it received. And, it probably truly was the downfall of Manic Drive. Understand, back when they played their heavy rock style (read: primarily first record, but the second record earned some recognition as well), they toured with bands like Skillet and Thousand Foot Krutch. Now, in 2014, the “biggest” show that Manic Drive played was an obscure festival in Texas, with three independent bands, and Fireflight, whom nobody genuinely cares about anymore. The point? In trying to appeal to a new fan base, Manic have undoubtedly moved to a smaller fan base. The band’s 2009 release, Blue, was essentially awful, but the band had a prime chance to end it there before it somehow became worse. They didn’t, and that’s how we “gained” Epic.
This album isn’t exciting, there’s nothing special, there’s practically no real instruments, and it sounds especially sloppy. Vocalist Shawn has abandoned the gruffer cleans and screams from the first two albums, instead aiming for a generic delivery similar to Michael Tait and the vocalist from Capital Kings. He attempts to rap, which just makes the band sound apathetic and more generic. It’s sad, in light of the fact that up till now, Shawn was a great vocalist. Guitarist Mike does still play, but gone are his clever riffs and mini-solos from Reset and Reason. He rather takes back seat to the overworked electronics, only occasionally standing out amidst the sugar-sweet electronics. “Drummer” Anthony may be credited for playing on this record, but his drumming sounds more like a robotic drum machine, and previous talented drummer Johnny Dimarco was blatantly the superior choice, back when the band was interested in being a band and not a robot.
Again, there would typically be standouts here. There aren’t any, everything is boy-band/pop material that’s already been done before, and arguably has been done to a greater caliber of quality. Epic is mind-numbing, and it’s extremely uncomplicated to lose interest. If that’s not dreadful enough, lyrics have grown exponentially worse (more on that later). Also, Manic Drive is reusing ideas, but not only from other bands, from their past catalog. The song Epic sounds exactly like Dancefloor from the band’s 2007 release. If you’re wondering about the overall sound, take Dancefloor, add in even more electronics, and occasionally vary the tempo. As for other bands they are ripping off, Good Times sounds like a One Direction ripoff, while both Count of 1-2-3 and Halo may as well be b-sides from the last Newsboys’ album. Every other song has been heard before, but those may be the best examples.
Lyrically, Manic has degenerated from album to album. On Reason for Motion, they had some solid and somber lyrics similar to bands like TFK and Skillet. On Reset and Rewind, they were less solid and somber, moving more into The Script-ish territory. On Blue, it was primitive party lyrics. Now, it’s also generic party lyrics, as well as shoving God-down throats (and I’m a Christian) lyrics, and a terrible song about middle-school love. Good Times has lyrics like this: “You got me smiling. Like I’m a child again. Like I am back in grade school. You got me feeling brand new… reminds me of the good times.” Seriously, did the guys from One Direction meet Manic Drive and decide to humiliate them? Count of 1-2-3 contains this “gem”: “some people like to party, some people clap their hands… but whatever you do, do it on the count of 1-2-3”, while Halo has this pre-teen sentiment: “I rock my halo, I rock my halo-oh-oh.”
These days, Manic Drive have faded into obscurity, losing all the credibility they previously worked vigorously to gain. That’s the sad part: Manic Drive used to have a ferocious work ethic, and even on the inferior (to Reason for Motion) Reset and Rewind, you could still feel that, for the majority, the guys in Manic had involved strong work in order to produce their album. Here, though, the work ethic is gone, and the band’s self-esteem with it. There’s a line on Epic that says this: “I will never sell my soul for all the money in the world.” Wrong, Manic, you’ve secured that deal with this album.
