But the guitarists are technically proficient, and they produce a few memorable riffs, solos, and licks throughout the album - though most of them call to mind the more interesting works of their peers, like the verse riff of "Watch You Bleed" that sounds a bit too close to System of a Down's "Boom!" or a number of rhythms that seem to have been lifted straight out of Slipknot's first two albums.
#WRONG SIDE OF HEAVEN FIVE FINGER DEATH PUNCH YOUTUBE SERIES#
And it's entirely possible that the drummer is just a series of Reason loops.
Sure, the producer's family was probably killed by a funky bassline and now he has made it his mission to prevent any bass notes from being audible, lest another family undergo the same trauma. Three songs here have multiple versions, crammed in for the sake of.what? Comparison and contrast? The claim is that Death Punch went past 24 songs and felt they were all worthy of release, but the amount of filler is so high that the album sounds like a B-sides collection - and not the good kind where it turns out the band was hiding all their best material from the public. Who knows how long the second installment of this series will be, but if its predecessor is any indication, it will consist of 26 songs, half of which are the exact same song but with a different guest vocalist on each stroking Ivan Moody's mohawk and cooing. At least when Stone Sour and Coheed & Cambria pulled the "two albums in a year" trick, those albums were actually musically distinctive from their earlier material, and possessed some level of restraint - the Coheed albums only had nine songs each. The Wrong Side of the Bed or whatever it's called is exactly what happens when a group (or perhaps just a frontman, but more on that later) is so egocentric that their filters of quality and rationality is completely wrecked. So it's truly unsurprising that Five Finger Death Punch has managed to stamp out yet another album that sounds like they always have, progressively more stale than their last. As long as they keep awkwardly hammering trends into their preexisting style until they’re mangled beyond repair, they're safe from accusations of stagnation.
Copious amounts of electronics? Releasing two albums within a year? Trying to bring back rapping into the genre, as if anybody in the world really wanted a return to nu-metal? Cover songs done primarily for irony's sake? Doesn't matter - anything to keep the walls of artistic integrity and innovation from closing in on them. Specifically, a rut that is having gallons of cement poured into it, as the tattooed narcissists who would fit right into boy bands if they just shaved and wore slightly different clothes scrabble at the sides, reaching for anything that could possibly save them. Review Summary: "Ce'st la riddance.fuck you."
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