album review

It seems a strange time in history when it is anomalous to encounter musicians who can only be called ‘rock’ without any other qualifiers. The ‘rock and roll’ genre was once so all-encompassing and pervasive that it permeated every corner of the musical universe that didn’t a classical composer, and the label itself needed no acute narrowing into subgenres. Eventually rock evolved as our tastes were refined, turning into rockabilly, hard rock, alternative rock, metal, pop rock and a million other things.

There was a time when the way a metal band could stand out from the pack was to be symphonic, to play with classic sounds and textures that most metal bands didn't have the musical skill to incorporate in their arsenals. Adding loads of strings and choirs into the music was not just a way of sounding bigger than your contemporaries, but was a way of standing apart and giving yourself a unique identity.

Throughout the history of rock and metal, there have been a number of groups who have replaced their lead singer for various reasons. It's no easy task. A band can replace a drummer with very little fanfare. They can replace a bassist and even a guitarist and generally continue on without fans blinking an eye. But replacing your front man, your lead singer, that's a tricky one. It has certainly been done before with varying degrees of success; Alice In Chains, Exodus and Anthrax did it. AC/DC and Van Halen have done it and continued or built upon previous successes. So has Iron Maiden.

For the last decade or so, one of the paths down which metal has gone involves the fusion of genres that don't, on the surface, seem to go together. It started with Opeth's unique brew of death metal and somber folk, but grew from there to include everything from the death metal meets jazz of Farmakon, to the 'super metal' of Monsterworks, and the kitchen sink approach that typifies bands like Between The Buried And Me. What they all have in common is a desire to do something unique in a space where it seems every good idea has already been explored.

Going the road by yourself in the music world is an admirable goal, but one that is difficult to obtain. The digital marketplace of the modern millennium makes the DIY journey more palatable, but it remains obtrusively difficult to break through in the absence of a record label; their finances, marketing power and presence can do a lot for an artist.

Anette Olzon was, like many singers before her, put into an impossible situation. Replacing a unique and beloved vocalist is next to impossible, especially when the band in question does nothing to help the cause. Anette seemed like an odd choice to join Nightwish after Tarja's departure, and her two records with the band offered mixed results. There were flashes of brilliance, but they were obscured by a band that wrote songs without realizing they had a different voice singing them, which did no favors to either side.

Heads up, fans of early 90's metal. Prong is back with a new album. But before we get to just how awesome the new album is (sorry for the spoiler), I have my very own, albeit unexciting to anyone but me, Prong story.

We've talked about this before, but watching a band evolve and grow is one of the preeminent perks of being a music fan. When an artist adds a few pieces to each successive effort, the feeling as a listener is one of encouragement - you inherently want to see that artist turn the corner from being a talented band that hasn't quite put it together to a unified force. Tennessee's Whitechapel has managed to improve on each album, and so fans and media alike were hopeful for this new record "Our Endless War".

Certain images come to mind when you think of dark, heavy, doom-laden metal. None of those involve two blonde women tapping into the seedy side of music for their inspirations. We've come to be conditioned to think of certain people in certain roles, and there's a disconnect that occurs when our conventional wisdom is breached. It can be uncomfortable, and it often leads us to second-guessing in times we normally wouldn't be prone to such things, but it can also open our minds to new possibilities.

Emmure is one of those bands people love to hate. While a quick scouring of the internet seems to suggest that straight-up nobody likes this band, the pertinent truth is that somebody must, because Frankie Palmeri and company continue to release music. Somewhere out there, Emmure means something, and their persistence in the face of a continual stream of vitriol is worth investigating. So, with that in mind, we tackle the new album, “Eternal Enemies.”