“A Death-Grip On Yesterday” Review (2/5)
There seems to be a problem somewhere, I didn’t recall Atreyu making gothic pop songs. I understand it’s a brutal way of portraying the same band that created “Suicide Notes and Butterfly Kisses” back in 2002, but could the popularity and mainstream grasp given Atreyu a blasé and apathetic approach to this album? Even when they were beginning to breakthrough onto the Fuse and MTV platform with their conceptual 2004 album, “The Curse,” they still managed to keep a certain edge which was still catchy and yet showed meaning. “A Death-Grip On Yesterday” is a constant dance beat with no rhythm, one big jam session glossed into a record. They’ve showed no improvement, actually putting them in a recession with the nine songs they’ve thrown together.
With the album spanning the amount of time of a primetime sitcom, 32 minutes is over before it begins. The constant screaming is what made the group famous, the ability to lash out with their singing/screaming combination made Atreyu unique amongst the other core bands of yesterday and today. Sadly, that wasn’t enough to push this album as neither was the cursing. Being able to throw in “bullshit” or “fuck” in tracks to fill-in for what should be actual lyrical material didn’t heighten the albums aggression at all. It just seems like the label wanted to keep the parental advisory sticker on the band to continue their bad boy, rock and roll image.
A possible reasoning of the bands recent musical decline could fall on the hands of producer, Josh Abraham. He’s been credited for such artists as Staind, Limp Bizkit, and Courtney Love. Having taken on bands not so similar to Atreyu, it could be why this album is so terrible. Maybe Josh Abraham didn’t know how to approach a band with a sort of energy and pointed all the energy in the opposite direction.
The instruments were refurbished guitar riffs, probably from unfinished songs and riffs they were fooling around with between “The Crimson” and pre-production of “A Death-Grip…” One could call this sort of issue, “The City of Evil Effect.” Where a band gets a taste of the spotlight and alters their music into mush. Atreyu has become the epitome of every struggling band. If they don’t make an effort to improve themselves on their next album, they could be looking at hiatus, or even worse: a continuation of circulating this monstrosity nationally, on-tour. There is no real reason to buy this record when the best song off the album is played in regular rotation on the radio.
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