I remember my excitement in April 2006 when I 1st heard “Animal I Have Become” on the radio & learned that, after 3 years & a stint in rehab for the lead singer I hadn’t heard ’bout till just then, the band who made 1 o’ my favorite albums @ the time were releasing a new album. While I would mainly just borrow said previous album from my older sister, this new album, with the strange title “One-X” & the emo cover with a line o’ paperdolls, all with checkmarks except 1 with an X on it, was 1 o’ the earliest I bought fro myself right around its release 20 years ago on June 13, 2006.

From what I’ve read ’bout this album online, this seems to generally be fans’ favorite, whose angst was probably fueled to better heights by the aforementioned stint in rehab by the lead singer. Personally, I always preferred the 1st album with its gloomier, mo’ bass-heavy sound. But maybe I will change my mind…

1. It’s All Over

Once again we start with the best song o’ the album, starting with guitar noises that sound like chaotic traffic rising from the abyss, followed by foreboding heavy bass & riffs, & then Adam Gontier’s swoonworthy voice sounding particularly scratchy & desperate as he fills you in on what a druggie “you” are — “you” being him, considering he just got out o’ rehab before recording this — before wailing that “IT’S ALL OOOOOOVER FOR YOOOOOU” like a death chant. The whole song, in fact, sounds like a death dirge, with some o’ the heavy beats after extended delays sounding like bell tolls.

As stated, the voicework on this song is impeccable — probably Gontier’s best work, actually, tho I think “Burn” from their self-titled has better music & is better o’erall. My favorite part is the way he sounds particularly raw in the throat while singing “because of you my mind is always racing” in the 2nd verse.

Grade: S

2. Pain

pain, without love
pain, can’t get enough
pain, i like it rough
’cause i’d rather feel pain than nothing @ all…

O, man, we’re so emo.

Honestly, tho, the sing-songy nature o’ this song — especially the way Gontier adds an extra “¡paaaaaiiiiiin!” in the background in falsetto in e’ery line in the chorus — elevates this from stale self-indulgent mopery into a kind o’ self-deprecating self-parody, which is a’least mo’ entertaining. I don’t know what’s up with the parts where he says stuff like, “trust me, i’ve got a plan / when the lights go up you’ll understand”. Maybe that’s the drugs Gontier got addicted to talking to him.

Grade: A

Music Video

The music video is your standard fare o’ the band jamming out in your typical 2000s dingy brown building, interspersed with clips o’ random teens singing ’long, sharing in the angst… which becomes particularly silly when you have the woman singing ’long @ a loved one’s grave or a hood-headed young woman shouting ’long in sync while being measured for her arrest. I can only imagine the gruff cops outside the camera laughing @ her — ¡which is precisely why we say ACAB! ¡They don’t understand the sorrow in my teenaged soul!

Grade: C

3. Animal I Have Become

Ah, yes, the classic, “I am such a beast” song by a band o’ fuckable twinks: what would become a staple ’mong angsty nu-metal or post-grunge bands afterward, only to finally be killed when Imagine Draggin’ My Nuts Across Yo’ Face made it too ridiculous to ignore with their song where they cried ’bout the s’posed “demons” they’re hiding — very well, in fact. As much as one could make fun o’ Three Days Grace’s perhaps melodramatic lyrics, you can’t say they’re not influential in how simple but relatable they are.

Also, to Gontier’s credit, looking deeper into the lyrics, the “animal” he has become is less a dangerous beast, & mo’ a pet rat that needs someone else to take care o’ him: he’s caged not to protect others from him but him from himself. This is actually an apt metaphor for the kind o’ devolution one feels when succumbing to drug addiction & losing one’s mind & needing to go to rehab, a distinction that’s lost in the copycats.

Another subtlety: I like how fragmentary the verse lines are, with the 2nd line a full-on incomplete sentence, the vagueness & incoherence representing the mental devolution the protagonist is going thru, not e’en able to communicate what their problem is in a kind o’ “I have no mouth & must scream’ type situation with this thick pleading voice.

Musically, this song is fitting for a 1st single, having plenty o’ catchy elements that work well with what the song is going for, but nothing too daring: we have the opening bass riffs that are gradually accompanied by guitar riifs & high hat hits & the weird rearrangement o’ these riffs & beats just as the song is ending.

Grade: B

Music Video

Mo’ jamming in a dark room interspersed with clips. This time the clips are o’ the protagonist waking up, remembering last night, walking outside feeling like shit & seeing a goofy jumpscare face from a bad creepypasta Newgrounds animation staring back @ him in the reflection o’ a window, being grumpy @ a bar, & then, ’pon being comforted by a woman, smashing shit round in a comical way. A’least Gontier seemed like he was having fun filming this. For the jamming, I do particularly like the sudden dance move he does near the beginning & the marching-band / Mao Zedong suit shirt & pants he presumably borrowed from My Chemical Romance after their “The Black Parade” music video.

Grade: B

4. Never Too Late

This song is nice. Honestly, for a song ’bout suicide by a nu-metal band, it’s surprising how not cheesy the lyrics are, showing an improvement from their self-titled. While the lyrics are broad, they’re not vague to the extent that I’m thinking, “¿what the fuck are you talking ’bout?”. Perhaps they could’ve benefited from some specific detail, — lyrically, this song is certainly no “Dress Rehearsal Rag” — but we all know it could’ve been much worse.

This song is also significantly improved by how well sung it is, with Gontier’s smooth, deep voice during the verses. E’en while shouting during the choruses, there is a level o’ restraint & control that again contributes to this song not sounding goofy, but in a pleasantly surprising way, as it, you know, sounds good.

My 1 caveat with this song’s sound is when I noticed the production o’ this album, which is probably a casualty o’ the noughties, where the “loudness war” o’ trying to make records as loud as possible by flatting them, was raging; & indeed, while opening this song’s FLAC file ripped from my original CD in Audacity, I can see how rectangular e’erything is, with the soft-sounding chorus having barely mo’ space under the edges than the box-shaped chorus, with some clear clipping into the lines, leading to audible distortion for the notes in the verses, which is a shame.

Grade: B

Music Video

This music video starts maudlin & then devolves into just bizarre. We start with the lead singer strumming his guitar, looking mopey. OK. Then we see a li’l girl get up from bed, be met by 2 adults who are presumably her parents, & then they start dancing in a cartoonish circle… OK… Then we switch to an adult woman who is being held against her will by nurses as she’s being led thru a hospital hallway. @ 1st I thought this was the li’l girl after she grew up, a dark irony contrasting her happy youth with her suicidal adulthood… but then we see the woman glance back @ the li’l girl dancing with her family. OK, so we’re contrasting this woman who tried to end her own life with a li’l girl ecstatic ’cause she recovered from an illness, with the idea that the adult woman should be thankful like the li’l girl for having life. Not a great message to give people with suicidal tendencies who already struggle with guilt ’nough as is, but OK… But then the li’l girl sees some random guy with black angel wings, appears in the room o’ the adult woman, who is now strapped to a bed, having left footprints all o’er the walls, & then, for no reason given, the li’l girl’s father fights with the black-winged angel while the adult woman smiles meekly @ the black feathers flying from offscreen. Finally, the adult woman, magically no longer bound down, stands up & walks ’way with a smile while the li’l girl goes back to bed. ¿What the fuck?

Grade: ?

5. On My Own

This song is also nice, with a mildly catchy, marching chorus that fits the both melancholy & uplifting chorus ’bout moving on from past troubles, as well as the smoky opening notes that play thru the equally smoky verses, where Gontier sings in a whispery tone, only to shout during the pre-chorus. Honestly, I think he might be putting too much energy in said pre-chorus screaming, & it feels a bit too loud for this song’s tone. Also, the chorus’s melody gets a bit repetitive @ the end, thanks to the bridge just being half the chorus with a filter o’er it.

Grade: B

6. Riot

This song is just your average banger, with basic drum beats & chugging riffs thruout & an e’en mo’ repetitive chorus that is just saying, “let’s start a riot”. I know singles are usually the safer songs, but I’m kind o’ baffled how this song was chosen for a single, as there’s not much to it. I don’t think I particularly loved it when I was a kid, but it’s definitely soured me now in an era where I’m not limited to a couple CDs & the radio & there are so many better songs @ my fingertips to spend my time listening to. I think only the way Gontier sings the verses with a flowingly rising & deepening voice saves this song from a D.

Grade: C

7. Get Out Alive

As a kid I didn’t like this song ’cause I was a dumb, impatient kid who just wanted to hear shouting & riffing & this is a slow song. In contrast to the previous song, this song had been growing on me since as early as college, with its opening menacing campfiresque strings & ghostly singing. Plus, it does build up in volume @ the climax, especially with the bridge’s instrumental. The repetitive strain o’, “if you wanna get out alive / O, run, run for your life”, is much less annoying than “Riot”’s chorus, since it’s less clanging, & it makes sense, as it acts as a spectral warning from which the protagonist is trying to escape.

Grade: A

8. Let It Die

I’m sorry, but I can’t help but laugh with joy when I hear Gontier sing in such a pleadingly genuine voice this song’s chorus o’, “i swear i never meant to let it die / i just don’t care about you anymore” — presumably before the person he’s dumping in this song dumps a glass o’ water in his face.

This song in general sounds weird in a way I’m tragically not adept ’nough to describe. You know what, I do now how to describe it: romantic. Gontier sings in a mushy voice while the notes seem to swell. This has to be intentionally ironic, ¿right? If so, this song deserves extra props — this shit is low-key hilarious.

I still have no idea how to describe the pre-chorus, with the sparse, “duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh, duh”, notes & Gontier’s straining voice. It’s like the song is slowing down so it can hit you with the punchline.

Grade: 😂

9. Over and Over

When I was a kid I was dumb ’nough to mistake this song as 1 ’bout a lovestruck fool pining o’er a woman he couldn’t get with for some reason. I have long since realized that, no, this song is ’bout the protagonist having withdrawals from the drugs they’re trying to clean themself off. Like with the previous song, there’s a dark irony to this song with similarly romantic swelling to the music & singing, with e’en strings in the back o’ the chorus, but without the punchline — hence why I was fooled as a kid: nowhere are the drugs mentioned in this song @ all, an impressive level o’ context-dependent subtlety from the band that just recently wrote, “I love everything about you; ¿why do I love you?”. Just listen to how he pleads in the chorus, repeating “over and over” — again, much mo’ effectively than in “Riot”. It truly is beautiful.

Grade: ❤️

10. Time of Dying

Add this to the list o’ songs I misinterpreted as a kid — but with the twist that I didn’t really figure out what this song was ’bout till right now. I always just saw this as your regular “I will survive” — a line that is literally said in the chorus — motivational song, with “time of dying” just being some weird nu-metal dark-poetic way o’ describing one’s low point. But now that I look @ the verse lyrics, & remembering the general theme o’ this album & the context o’ what was going on in Gontier’s life, I’m now realizing that this song is ’bout the protagonist lying on their bed in a drug-fueled o’erdose, wondering if they’re going to die from it & able to do nothing but psyche their body into not succumbing & “wait for you” — you presumably being either a loved one who calls for an ambulance or the ambulance themselves.

& like with the previous songs, there’s that dark irony to this song, mixing what are the hardest riffs & beats on this album with mo’ swelling, romantic, pleading singing, with the latter building into a desperate cacophony by the end.

Grade: S

11. Gone Forever

This is your typical toxic relationship breakup song, with repetitive country-style strumming & sing-songy singing where you can hear the karaoke-drunk warbling to the protagonist’s cried insistence that they don’t miss you @ all, ¡nope! It’s ironic, like the previous few songs, but in a much mo’ standard way. Honestly, this song doesn’t stand out much: I can think o’ plenty o’ post-grunge songs o’ a similar quality, with the only thing that elevates it, again, being Gontier’s impeccable singing performance.

Grade: C

12. One-X

Interestingly, this album’s closer is similar to their self-titled’s closer, in that it has this theme o’ “NOT BEING A PART OF YOUR SYSTEM” bloviating ’bout one’s own s’posed uniqueness & is the weakest song. I think it’s e’en worse on this album: thruout this album we have this theme o’ struggling with drug abuse… but the closing title track & the pictured theme o’ the album cover with the 1 paperdoll X’d out ’mong the other circled paper doll is… ¿be yourself? ¿That’s the takeaway? I guess I could understand that if the protagonist relied on drugs due to insecurity & learning thru recovery to have respect for themself. Too bad that isn’t portrayed @ all thru this album — either on any other song, or in this song’s vague, unironic, motivational lyrics. It’s kind o’ bad in a way that drags down all the earlier songs: it reminds me that we ne’er learn why the protagonist got into drugs in the 1st place & feels like a rushed, out o’ nowhere resolution. Like, imagine listening to a whole album o’ angsting in detail ’bout someone’s struggle with drug abuse, with 1 song going into concrete detail ’bout them lying on their bed, thinking they’re going to die, this angst going all the way up to the penultimate song, & then the final song is just, “O, I’m better now. Anyway, be yourself, kids”.

& we had a much better song to close on, too: ¿remember “Never Too late”? ¿The song ’bout not committing suicide way back on track 4? That has a similar uplifting message, but with a much mo’ melancholy tone that feels less jarring in contrast to the desperate previous song. Or, no… ¿What ’bout “On My Own”? ¿Isn’t that e’en better, as it’s ’bout moving on? Imagine we moved “Gone Forever” somewhere else & we ended this album with “Time of Dying”, “Never Too Late”, & “On My Own”: we have the protagonist @ their lowest point, almost dying; the protagonist realizing they don’t want to die & it’s not too late to turn things around; & the protagonist learning to turn things around & moving onward.

Musically, it is better than the previous album’s “Overrated”, but not by much. While the opening deep notes are all right, the rest just feels sluggish, especially with the repetitive chorus, which is e’en mo’ annoying than “Riot”’s, especially @ the end where a crowd seems to continually chant, “we stand above the crowd”, like I’m in church. Gontier’s singing sounds @ its weakest here, with much less force than you’d expect for a song that’s s’posed to be so motivational.

Grade: D

Conclusion

My respect for this album has certainly grown listening to it again with a mo’ critical ear than the self-titled, especially when it comes to lyricism; howe’er, musically, I still prefer the self-titled: you’ll notice I don’t talk ’bout the music quite as much in this review, as the distinctive dour downtuned bass from the self-titled are not as present here, replaced with a mo’ standard guitar sound & with mo’ pop-oriented elements, like swelling strings. In some sense it works better for what this album was going for, but still sounds less good o’erall to me.

Final Grade: A

Sevendust was not a band I thought ’bout much in my youth. Yes, I did hear songs like “Enemy”, “Face to Face”, & “Prodigal Son” on the radio & I think I did check out their greatest hits album or Seasons from the library.

¿So why am I not doing those albums instead o’ the album we are looking @ today, their 2001 Animosity, which I had ne’er listened to as a kid? Well, 1st, I only really cared ’bout the singles from Seasons, so most o’ that album would fill me with just as much nostalgic indifference; & I barely paid attention to most o’ the songs off the greatest hits album if I e’er listened to it, I’m actually not sure. 2nd, it seems like most people don’t really like Seasons that much, & listening back to it, yeah, it’s not their best. The 1st song, “Diseased”, starts with what sounds like a Beavis impression. ¿I think they may be smoking weed?

Anyway, the biggest reason is that this album sticks in my head the most out o’ theirs because o’ an article I read years ago, but well into my adulthood, where somebody asserted this as the best nu-metal album. As someone who was familiar with this band, but hadn’t paid much attention to them, this caught my interest. In hindsight, I don’t think I’d call this my favorite nu-metal album o’ all time — & looking round online, it doesn’t e’en seem like e’eryone agrees that this is their best album, with albums like Home, their self-titled, & e’en their much later Time Travelers & Bonfires; tho this is the highest Sevendust album on Rate Your Music… @ a whopping 60th place, after a Mudvayne & Static-X album & barely above a Trust Company album. Trust Company isn’t e’en a real nu-metal band: they’re a post-grunge band — & a very weak 1. Then again, they put Deftones’ Around the Fur @ the highest. ¿Who the hell considers Around the Fur to be better than White Pony? If they wanted to be contrarian hipsters, they could’ve a’least picked Diamond Eyes, like normal Deftones fans. For the record, I couldn’t find the original article I read — tho I did find this amazing top 21 list from Kerrang!, which put Papa Roach’s Infest @ #3, just above Toxicity. I used to love Papa Roach as a kid & don’t e’en consider Toxicity my favorite System of a Down album & still think that’s insane work.

1. T.O.A.B.

The 1st song is titled, “T.O.A.B.”, which, according to the scriptures o’ Genius, stands for, “tits on a boar”; — I always thought the phrase was “tits on a bull”, but whate’er — &, indeed, this song is mainly Lajon shouting or speaking confrontational or insulting lines, such as the opening line, “¡die, you piece of shit!”, 3 times. Probably Sevendust’s biggest flaw are their boring lyrics, which are neither hilariously bad like the likes o’ Breaking Benjamin or Disturbed, nor genuinely insightful.

This song is your average banger that doesn’t have much to stick in the memory, other than the weird effect given to the guitars that make them sound like a machine sucking in air. I do like the chorus, with the slow shout followed by the softer voice in the background quickly sputtering out, “a motherfucker without a life that’s always getting something”.

Grade: B

2. Praise

I believe this is the biggest single from this album & the song I remember the most. It is likely the best song on this album, too: it is full o’ so many interesting hooks & pieces, from the opening simple but memorable low riff faded back in the background, followed by a short pause, & then accompanied by much louder drum beats & a weird squeaky riff, only to return to the quiet, deep riff as Lajon sings in a similarly quiet, deep, menacing-sounding voice, only to get louder himself in the 2nd half o’ the verses while someone else shouts @ the start o’ each line in the background ( technically, the 1st verse gets a li’l louder in the 2nd quarter beforehand: you can barely hear accompanying Lajon a particularly raspy & reptilian-sounding voice singing Lajon’s lines in sync ).

There are many other fun things in this song that I could mention, like the instrumental bridge, or the way this weird, catchy, high-pitched riff plays in the background during the latter half o’ the latter 2 choruses.

& in contrast to what I said ’bout the previous song, this song’s lyrics are much better, using mo’ philosophical-sounding lyrics in the verses, which actually make them sound creepier than just insults. The highlight is the chorus, where Lajon repeats the lines, “I’m not what you… / I’m the one who…”, which is a simple but poetic & clever way to contrast this other’s expectation o’ the protagonist being subordinate — having things done to him — with the protagonist’s insistence on being dominant — being the one doing the things.

Grade: S

Music Video

A pretty weak music video, honestly: you just have your standard jamming out on a dark stage interspersed with some confusing — & yet still not particularly inspired — footage o’ a bunch o’ faces shouting @ each other in varying angles.

Grade: D

3. Trust

In contrast, this song is pretty boring. While I like the melody o’ the line, “& steeeeal everything… from the truuth”, the rest o’ the song feels rhythmless & needlessly sluggish, especially the prechorus, which is just lame: it’s just someone shouting the song title, “¡TRUST!”, as if the band didn’t trust the audience to glean the theme o’ the song without it, followed by a random, high-pitched, squeaky riff.

It’s too bad, ’cause the music isn’t bad: I like the opening faded strings, — tho, in contrast to e’erything else in this song, I wish it were elongated mo’, as it only lasts like 2 beats — as well as the moody, dour basslines during the verses, which make a good contrast to the higher-pitched, pleading singing & the great basslines during the bridge — only to be ruined by mo’ “¡TRUST!”s & squeaky riffs.

The lyrics also go too far into the poetic sphere to the point o’ pretentiousness, especially considering this song is apparently just ’bout him being a homewrecker leading another woman into cheating on her husband. Homewrecking isn’t great, but it doesn’t sound like you knew this other man or that you raped this woman: it sounds like she was the one who broke someone’s trust.

Grade: D

4. Crucified

OK, I change what I said on the 1st song: this song’s lyrics are hilariously bad. Mainly, ’cause it combines the pretentiousness o’ the previous song with the vulgarity o’ the 1st song, following the melodramatic middle-school poetry o’, “so much pain to ease my simple mind / no hope, I’ve been crucified / & no one seems to care”, pleaded out, followed immediately by, “don’t you feel like a BITCH”, with the “BITCH” part shouted in the background with an echo. Then we get the 1st chorus, with mo’ adolescent poetry — “the 1st time I knew you lied / I ended up crucified”, followed by the line, “suck a dick”, repeated several times from a deep, low voice.

& the poetic lines are so vague, I have no hope o’ figuring out what this song is ’bout, especially since Genius themselves gave up on saying anything ’bout it. I’m assuming that the protagonist’s claims o’ being crucified are metaphorical & this song isn’t ’bout someone back in the Roman Empire days being falsely accused o’ a crime & executed. My best guess is that this song is a classic “my bitch girlfriend cheated on me” song & that having been “crucified” is the protagonist feeling very sad ’bout being cheated on.

& yet despite all this, the song is catchy thruout, especially the way Lajon sings the chorus. Hell, e’en the “don’t you feel like a BITCH”s & “suck a dick”s are catchy. & the music is… serviceable, with a few catchy parts here & there. Honestly, the production on this album is so good that this band could do the most basic bitch beats & riffs & it’d sound 1000 times better than pretty much anything P.O.D. or Five Fungal Disease Panics did.

Grade: C

5. Xmas Day

This is a much better slow song than “Trust”: that Alice-in-Chains-esque string melody & that chorus melody helps, as well as the excellent way Lajon sings the chorus. Also, tho I can’t be sure, as Genius gives no annotations & the lyrics are allusive, this song seems to also be ’bout the same thing, with the protagonist in love with this woman, but feeling the need to leave her for her own good, specifically with the line, “& this love must die”, @ the end o’ the 2nd verse. It’s lyrics are also much better than “Trust”’s, with much mo’ imagery & description, like the line ’bout the woman sleeping with the phone on her chest, having fallen asleep waiting for a call that wouldn’t come.

Grade: A

6. Dead Set

I like the noisy, instrumental music. Too bad the lyrics are basically just ‪✝︎-rock. We have your standard ambiguous lines ’bout how the protagonist can’t be saved & needs to be relieved & dodges the grave, & so forth, but then we’re jumpscared with the line, “God save the child who lives like a whore”, which is an interesting case o’ being melodramatic while also revealing how weak the problem is, connected with the knowledge that this is in reference to the adult protagonist. Like, yeah, I guess sleeping around too much can be a problem, especially if you’re not keeping yourself protected… but not on the same level as a child going around being raped left & right.

Grade: C

7. Shine

this is the last time i will talk to you
i feel like i’m in a blocked state of mind
¿am I getting thru?

No: I have no idea what you’re talking ’bout. Sorry.

Vague lyrics ’bout “being in a freefall” & how hard it is for the protagonist “to shine”, whate’er that means, — reminds me o’ the similarly vague “Colors” by Crossfade, but without the condescending pity for someone else, so there’s that — the music is fun banger music & I particularly like the singing melody on the chorus with the grinding riffs ’hind it.

Grade: B

8. Follow

In the middle o’ listening to this song I found myself jumpscared by the 1, the only, Aaron Lewis, lead singer o’ the infamous Staind. Howe’er, his whininess is mostly missing from this song, so it doesn’t really hurt the song in any way. It’s just an interesting bit o’ trivia, I guess.

I’m not really sure what to say ’bout this song other than that it’s not bad, but not 1 I’m eager ’bout. I wouldn’t call it boring or uninspired: there’s some spooky synths that weren’t really there before & there’s plenty o’ variations to how the singer sings to keep it from getting stale. The drawn out pre-chorus followed by the marching chorus is mildly catchy.

The lyrics are fortune cookie gibberish, — with such sharp lines like, “living to love could remind you”, “you can’t fake everything that reminds you how you feel”, & “time will tell what’s inside you” — howe’er, which, combined with the constant refrain o’ “you can’t know, follow”, gives me my best guess that this song is ’bout a cult leader. If that’s the intention & the cult leader’s gibberish is s’posed to be seen thru an ironic lens, I think Lajon is too subtle & he — & Aaron, for that matter — could’ve sounded less genuine in their singing. My fear is that this song is actually meant to sound deep.

Grade: C

9. Damaged

The contrast o’ the driving bass & riffs gainst the slow singing, contrasted further with the shouted “¡GOD!”s in the background, in the verses is interesting. The chorus is mildly catchy, but not in a way different from a lot o’ the other songs on this album. & while the lyrics are abstruse as always, this time I can gauge what this song is ’bout: it’s your typical emo song o’ self hatred, but angry, loud, & MANLY, as is common in nu-metal.

Grade: B

10. Live Again

Ooo, this is a good 1. We start with slow, sparse lyrics chopped up with commas — “feeling nothing, lonely, empty” — a line that sounds like what it says, & then we get a darkly melodic pre-chorus and chorus. Lyrically, this is another song ’bout self-hatred, but with less wallowing & mo’ trying to coach oneself into fixing oneself — the titular living again. As weird as this mix o’ such a dark sound & arguably uplifting lyrics ’bout self improvement are, I kinda dig it: after all, it’s from the point o’ rock bottom & the painful struggle to improve oneself, without any guarantee that this “living again” will e’en work: it’s mo’ a warning ’bout what worse things could come rather than hope for better things.

Grade: A

Music Video

This music video alternates ’tween grayscale footage o’ a woman hanging round dirtbag men till she decides to throw them off, which is when color begins to gradually appear, & the band jamming in the same red & black studio from the “Praise” music video. Nothing amazing, — & the morality tale o’ a woman learning to not let herself be used by men is kinda schmaltzy — but effective.

Grade: C

11. Beautiful

I’m not feeling this 1, tho. We have an outright annoying, beeping riff in the background & a forgettable chorus with vague Linkinparkesque emo lyrics ’bout “need[ing] something beautiful” & “i need something to feel real again before i go numb”.

Also, this is a nitpick, but it’s absurd when the singer keeps shouting ’bout needing to slow down or singing ’bout seeming to go “200 miles per hour” while singing so slowly. If this song is ’bout feeling frantic anxiety then it should sound, you know, anxious; not a sluggish dirge o’ depression. Later, we get the constant refrain o’ asking, “¿are you alive?”, which seems like the opposite thing to ask someone who needs to “slow down”.

Grade: D

12. Redefine

The verses & choruses sound like they belong to 2 different songs: the verses sound like they belong to your average banger with drill-sergeant-like shouting @ someone, — possibly oneself — with such lines as, “connect your face to the fist”, & then the chorus is this slow, drawn-out pleading o’er desert-like drums ’bout how the protagonist needs someone — possibly themself — to stay alive for them. Nowhere in this song is there any hint as to how this connects to the title, “redefine”: the chorus-ending line, “you’re holding me back”, seems to imply a failure to redefine oneself.

Honestly, the desert drums are the only thing that bumped this up to a B. I just think they sound neat.

Grade: B

13. Angel’s Son

It says something ’bout how good Sevendust are that they can make such a schmaltzy song & it still sounds pretty good. It’s that Alice in Chains inspiration, I tell you. It’s also the sparse strings peppered with the occasional deep bass & beats & Lajon’s melodic voice.

OK, having said that, I cannot ignore that this song is apparently ’bout the tragic early death o’ funk metal punk band Snot’s lead singer, James Lynn Strait — technically the only proof I’ve seen is this song being on a compilation album dedicated to him, which seems like good proof. Now, I love Snot & I obviously don’t think it’s bad @ all to give tribute to its lead singer, but… as someone who loves Snot, I find this song peculiar, especially the way it describes the lead singer who shouted such lines in his songs as “¡MY BALLS, YOUR CHIN!” & the great opener to their introductory song, “¡fuck the record & fuck the people!”, as an “angel’s son”. I’m not implying that Strait was a bad person @ all: but if I were the lead singer o’ a punk band like Snot, I probably wouldn’t want to be remembered as an “angel’s son”. I mean, imagine if somebody made a song like this ’bout Ozzy Osbourne after he died: it’d be weird, ¿right? I dunno.

Grade: B

Music Video

As goofy as it is, I like the way the band is playing in various places in the hospital, such as the guitarist strumming his guitar while sitting in a waiting room chair or outside the hospital front door — @ 1 point accompanied by a whole string section — & Lajon singing outside the operating room window or in the middle o’ the hospital aisles.

Grade: A

Conclusion

This article & me trying out this album did give me a better appreciation for this album & this band & some o’ the subtle elements, like the particular melodic way Lajon Witherspoon sings, that are easy to miss when you’re a dumb kid who just cares that it’s loud & angsty. For 1, the production on this album, a’least, is much better than most nu-metal bands, which very crisp drumbeats & sharp guitar riffs, which made this a great cleanser from the P.O.D. songs we listened to last month, which were all o’erproduced into blaring mush. The writing is this album’s weakest point — tho, to be fair, not as weak or clumsy as what you’d oft find in a Disturbed or Drowning Pool album.

Grade: B

this year i had promised myself i would not leave those cherryblossoms to shiver alone under the gray skies as i had done a year 2 years ago & after weeks o’ procrastinating on april 6, 2025, the final day o’ the cherryblossom festival, i finally forced myself to venture forth to the “quad” o’ the university of washington, where there dwelled cherryblossom trees nearly 100 years ol’. according to uw themselves, there are multiple stories explaining whence these trees originated, including being planted as part o’ fdr’s new deal policies & being gifted by japanese & japanese-american organizations various times o’er the years.

but i was greedy that day & chose to explore nearby areas while i was in the vicinity, having no idea what i would be stumbling myself into.

my venture truly began when i got off the lightrail in capitol hill @ john st. & broadway e, which is not to be mixed up with the og broadway in new york: this 1 is apparently up for lease if the advertising sign just below its name speaks truly.

there i waited for the 49 bus whose pole had a branding deal with a hello kitty character i’d ne’er seen before: the toast angel. as those who’ve seen my various photos & read my transcriptions o’ the poems i’d see on my travels know, i’ve always held a deep respect for the anonymous people who scribble out these graphics & poems when all eyes are blind in all these crannies & corners o’ cities, ne’er to have their authorialship known & ne’er to know the responses o’ all those who witness their works.

after the 49 had finally come & picked me up i departed @ harvard ave e & e shelby st. in eastview & then turned right, going down incredibly bougie neighborhoods down a steep incline on which i saw some woman impressively run down with her dog while i crept carefully with the sense that a single wrong step would cause me to topple forward. from up here i could already see portage bay @ the end — in fact, as i’d later find out, an e’en better view than @ the end:

but i eventually did reach the bottom & was able to find a decent view thru the petals o’ a cherryblossom tree that had made an early appearance:

i was not alone gazing @ this sight: standing there — if not ignorant o’ my own presence, then indifferent — also gazing into the scenery was a sturdy, hardened fire hydrant whose jungle-green pallor looked e’en mo’ rusty under the colorsucking dim skies:

howe’er, as one must always do eventually, i had to leave my new acquaintance & head back. why i went back the way i came instead o’ continuing north & seeing new scenery, i don’t recall — i think i wanted to see if i could capture a better view o’ portage bay from the other side o’ shelby st. in any case, i did catch a few nice sights going back up, including 1 home which seemed to be covered @ the front by a large fence made o’ brambles, which reminded me o’ the bramble bushes in front o’ my late grandmother’s house that she would demand i futilely try to trim down on many summers:

in contrast to the verdant fire hydrant, higher up i found a particularly dull-colored pickup truck which seemed it could be no mo’ indifferent to the extravagant sight:

& farther on i encountered a different fellow connoisseur o’ nature who definitely seemed unaware o’ my presence, so enraptured as it strolled thru its suburban alleyway surrounded by recycling bins, empty to all other life but a bush o’ pink daisies:

still not satisfied, instead o’ continuing north from my eastern distraction, i went west to the other end o’ the triangular edge to see the water on the other side — lake union, to which portage bay connected round the norther tip — @ the e allison st. public shore on fairview ave e, where i could get a much better view o’ the several suburban homes o’ many colors, spotted by the e’erpresent e’ergreen firs & many boats, lining the cliffs before the lake, careless to the danger they put themselves to by standing so precariously on the edge during an era o’ water-raising climate change, their black windows like eyes gazing as imperturbably as i was into the waters:

after this short 2nd detour, i finally continued northeast toward my main destination, the quad o’ the university o’ washington university bridge, which connected eastlake & university district across portage bay. from where i begun my northeastern path i could see a highway bridge bridging the same 2 regions straight north off i-5 from the south looming high ’bove with small flickers o’ movement o’ the cars racing in either direction:

below that bridge there was an orange sign warning me, “be prepared to stop”. later i saw another orange sign warning me to “end detour”:

i was too foolish to listen to either o’ them.

in fact, i almost immediately stopped on my path to look @ the piles o’ dirt & rock permanently parked on 1 side o’ the road, surrounded by orange & white striped traffic stands like its very own entourage.

as well as another early appearance o’ a cherryblossom tree being admired by a rare figure — but beyond mere observation; this figure wanted to feel the cherryblossoms fall onto its face & feel it round its feet:

in contrast to this quiet scene, as i crossed under the highway in the sky i could hear the rumble o’ constant creature activity up there, indifferent to the greenery below:

eventually i reached university bridge, its celadon color making a great match for the gray atmosphere around us all, its 3 bisected eyes staring straight & ignoring me, its red-&-white-striped arm held up, beckoning.

’course this bridge offered yet ’nother view o’ portage bay o’er the side o’ its short walls transitioning from green girders to darkstained stone columns, 1 big 1 holding a sign warning o’ the dangers o’ leaping into the bay. presumably this is aimed @ those foolish ’nough to think they could cannonball in for a brisk swim & not as a redundant, counterintuitive warning gainst those who seek consequences fatal & tragic:

eventually i crossed the other side o’ the bridge & after descending a few levels o’ stairs, i had entered the campus o’ university of washington, which i would soon realize was less o’ a “campus” & more o’ its own city with multiple streets, avenues, & e’en multiple bus stops:

as i entered the college grounds, i was met by a sinister sight i didn’t expect to see: under the dark shadow o’ the structure whose stairs i descended i saw an orange o’erhanging with the shadows o’ the words, “the wall of death”, guarded off by stalagmites & a wire fence. according to wikipedia, this was originally a dangerous motorcycle jump ramp that apparently became so dangerous that the seattle department of transportation blocked it off to prevent anyone from using it, relegating it now to just a sinister museum relic. & apparently the newspaper seattle weekly called it 1 o’ seattle’s worst works o’ public art, tied with some badly sculptured troll, so i’m glad i was able to capture its tackiness in this haibun.

nearby i found on the sidewalk what seemed to be a spraypainted advertisement for a new album by a band called “stray kids”. i later looked this up & found out it’s a k-pop band, tho its mix o’ hip hop & electronic elements, a’least in their 2024 albums, makes them sound a bit like linkin park — so look forward to me featuring 1 o’ their albums on “nostalgic novelty noughties nu-metal” someday, tho probably 合 (hop) hop rather than the album advertised here, ate, since “(hop) hop” is a funnier name & i love its 1st track, “walking on water”, & its chorus with its “woah-oh, woah-oh, walkin’ on — ( ¡wicky-wicky! )”.

but ’twas not just humans i saw @ the campus: in a large green field o’ grass ’tween 2 buildings i saw pecking @ said grass 2 black-necked, gray-bodied canadian geese. i took multiple photos o’ them as i edged closer to them, expecting them to flee or fly away @ any moment, but was surprised to see how comfortable they were with humans: e’en right up to their faces, just a yard away, they just turned their heads up & stared @ me stoically. i did not, howe’er, have the boldness to try going right up to them & touching them, not wanting to disturb their lunch.

as anyone familiar with my haiku knows, — or may have e’en inferred from the earlier hydrant i met @ portage bay — i have a fascination with fire hydrants with their humanlike outspread arms to the side & the jutting eye that seems to stare, so you can imagine my excitement when i saw a fire hydrant standing there, wearing the purple & yellow colors o’ the university o’ washington as if it were a student itself showing off its pride:

eventually i reached the central square known as “the quad”, where there congregated a’least dozens o’ yoshino cherryblossom trees whose leaf roofs spread so far they practically covered the sky — & covered the grass with dropped petals.

unfortunately, on that afternoon, the quad was also packed with several people, so ’twas impossible to get pictures o’ a cherryblossom tree without somebody in the picture. but someone i was happy to see, hiding up among the blossoms, was a pastel unicorn balloon:

but eventually i had to depart from these trees & continue onward. by this point i was already tired o’ wandering this huge quad & decided to take 1 o’ this campus’s many buses on stevens way & pend oreille rd to as near to my next destination as possible, which was a short half-kilometer trip on the 67 stopping on stevens way & rainier vista ne. ( i was also too tired to bother taking photos o’ said bus station ). that destination was montlake bridge, dividing portage bay & union bay. but before i crossed it i took yet another detour down sets o’ stairs to the side to get a closer look @ the bays, as well as several strange incantations painted along the wall on the other side, including “lambing szn”, “r we there yet?”, “fear the panther”, “you keep diggin’”, & “monkey bonky 2021”, their stark colors reflecting & melting into the waters.

as i stared @ the bay & the passing boats, i walked long the thin paved path strewn with red leaves — as if i had been transported to the southern hemisphere, & ’twas autumn here — fallen from canopies hanging o’er the side rails, as if trying to gaze into the bay themselves, casting cold shade o’er a lonely bench, aimed rigidly @ the bay, but with nobody sitting on it.

i retraced my steps, climbed back up the steps, & crossed this new bridge into montlake, only to immediately turn to the side @ the other end o’ the bridge to trace round the edge o’ this urban island ’long the arboretum waterfront trail, starting @ “the story of north island” totem pole. unfortunately, i could not find much information on what this “story of north island” is, beyond a review on google maps claiming that this totem pole washed up in seattle, broken into 2 pieces, & was restored by some mysterious organization know as “the committee of 33”. wikipedia claims that north island is in new zealand & the story o’ north island seems to be a māori creation myth in which a demigod named māui creates north island by fishing up a giant fish who becomes that island using his grandmother’s jawbone. this figure apparently has a litany o’ famed tales, including his last, where he attempts to gain immortality for humanity by… climbing into a goddess’s vagina & slipping out thru her mouth, only for her obsidian vagina teeth to chew him to death — proving that humanity’s affinity for strange fetishes, which so many think spawned from the internet, in fact predated the written word. one wonders if the old image o’ the caveman dragging his wife by the hair was really the earliest form o’ consensual bdsm.

this trail was a 20-minute hike, crossing 2 li’l islands, marsh island & foster island. that wasn’t the part that surprised me, having mapped out my arbitrary voyage before i left home — tho i didn’t anticipate how tired ’twould leave me, bold on the memory o’ having spent a whole week doing nothing but walking around in new york city last october. what i hadn’t expected was the effect that the rain, which i had intentionally scheduled into my trip so i could get the best view o’ scenery possible, would have on the trail. @ this point what i anticipated to be a light drizzle turned into heavier showers, making e’erything soaking wet, from myself to the wooden decks, which shone light gray under e’en the most cloud-muffled o’ suns:

the effect was that this “trail” was thru swampland, whose dirt paths made for walking were transformed by the storm’s baleful magic into mud lakes one had to wade thru & whose waters swelled so that they submerged half o’ 1 bridge. i, who had ne’er learned to swim, crossed this with trepidation.

this trail had me cross quite a few steel bridges, 1 o’ which contorted & craned on for several yards; & tho only 1 was outright submerged in water, none o’ them felt so sturdy that i was sure none o’ them could collapse into the water any minute.

eventually i made it to the end o’ this seemingly ne’erending trail @ memory point, where a stonebordered cliff o’erlooked union bay & in the distance i had just crossed i could see the faint ghost o’ the zigzag-roofed buildings o’ the university of washington:

i sat on the convenient bench to rest for a few minutes, but i could not rest long, as this was still not the end o’ my journey. from here i had 1 mo’ trail south into foster island toward my final checkpoint, the seattle japanese garden.

thankfully, this trail involved no mudponds or half-sunken bridges i needed to cross, but was mostly just a very long paved path bordered by grass & plenty o’ trees. @ this point i was tired ’nough that i was satisfied with the less extravagant scenery if it meant less burden getting to my destination. especially since the unlucky part was that this trail went e’en longer, going o’er 30 minutes & 2 & a half kilometers. because o’ this, i didn’t stop @ as many o’ the distractions this giant parkland area provided, which regrettable included turtle pond, which i didn’t e’en realize was there till i looked back o’er my maps now.

i did stop @ the arboretum garden to use the restroom, refill my water bottle, & buy a book & strange mushroom plush. i’d thought ’bout exploring this arboretum’s flora, but i was confused as to where it went, & i took that as an excuse to continue onward.

finally, i reached the seattle japanese garden. i was so tired & my ankles were so sore that i barely had the energy to explore & admire it, but still forced myself to do so. despite having such an official name as the seattle japanese garden & having to pay a $10 entrance fee, this small garden wasn’t as impressive as the highline seatac botanical garden i visited back in 2022, which was free, had greater variety, & had nicer scenery packed into a smaller space, requiring less trudging.

but i still found much to appreciate in this humble garden’s pretzel-shaped japanese maples fenced off by rocks, stone lanterns, tiny stone bridges, & trickling small waterfalls:

the advantage o’ this garden being so small was that it took no time to scour it in its entirety. by this point my gluttonous, greedy appetite had been o’erfilled & i was ready to head back home — which still required a 15 minute walk thru many blocks o’ random suburban neighborhoods, ending @ a dilapidated bus stop on 24th ave e & boyer ave e, which i was too tired to capture on film. as it turned out, this bus, the 48, led me to just a short walk from the university of washington & its light rail station, — ’cause ’course it has its own rail station — whose train would take me back home. but as i headed toward this station, i saw to my shock behind said station that the university of washington also apparently had its own airport:

& as if to mock my exhaustion, this light rail station for some reason had several flights o’ stairs i had to descend before being able to embark on the train.

despite all the trudgery, in addition to my sore ankles i was also so cold from being out in the rain so long that i was feverish by the time i reached home — a chill that could only be cured with takeout masala & a whole day’s worth o’ sleep.

The map o’ my journey:

Beyond hearing “Youth of the Nation” on the radio, — & I believe that was the only song I e’er heard from this band on the radio — I was 1st introduced to this band from their greatest hits album ( weirdly, I most remember listening to this album while reading a book ’bout the Columbine massacres that my sister got for free from her job @ a book store, which, um… adds an interesting context to this music ), which was a common way for me to accustom myself to a band I learned ’bout from the radio. Tho I have been hesitant to “cheat” & focus on only the hits o’ any nu-metal band, — usually focusing on specific albums so I don’t just focus on the most memeable hits, but also the songs nobody remembers, some o’ which just as worthy o’ memery — this is a series largely based on my own particular experience with nu-metal & 2000s rock music in general. I tried browsing thru this band’s actual albums & couldn’t really decide which album, since I ne’er listened to them before & none seemed to stand out ( tho I s’pose Satellite was the highest contender, especially since ’twas the album with “Youth of the Nation” ).

If you are not familiar with this band, P.O.D., or “Payable on Death”, is a Christian nu-metal band — & unlike Skillet, which was arguably mo’ alternative rock, P.O.D. is unquestionably a nu-metal band, with corny rapping, downtuned guitars, & DJ electronica. P.O.D. is also notable for not being just a bunch o’ pasty-faced honkeys, but with a… Mexican-Italian-indigenous lead singer, who, ne’ertheless, still looks like Fred Durst’s long-lost brother in this Wikipedia article, & a black guitarist. Tragically, they still sound as corny as a bunch o’ rapping crackers, howe’er. So they’re like Rage Against the Machine, but lame: ¡Rage Against the Devil! Actually, that would’ve been a cooler band name than P.O.D., which I know will be get tiring to type.

1. Southtown

I really like this song’s bass, especially @ the beginning & before the 1st & 2nd choruses. The drums are pretty nice, too, specially the rapid drumming @ the end o’ choruses. The guitarwork sounds repetitive, howe’er, as is the singing, which is barely mo’ melodic than talking or mo’ rhythmic than rapping, & sounds ’bout the same in the verses & the choruses, while the bridge is just shouting vague off-brand Rage Against the Machine slogans with the politics stripped out.

The lyrics are… fine. Nobody seemed to care ’nough ’bout them to leave any annotations or explanations on Genius. While they’re vague, they say ’nough to imply the sentiment o’ growing up in a rough neighborhood & praying to God that… I dunno, ¿it gets less rough? ¿The protagonist escapes to nicer neighborhoods? Unfortunately, we don’t get much o’ a picture o’ how rough this neighborhood beyond allusions such as, “you know those kids don’t play”. Some don’t e’en seem specific to the protagonist’s circumstance, like “these times, they’re getting tough” or “could be the next guy that you take before I wake”. I mean, yeah, I guess you’d be mo’ likely to die in a crime-ridden hood; but it’s not as if middle-class people in suburbia don’t think ’bout how they could go @ any time.

Sadly, tho, the lyrics aren’t bad ’nough to be funny. The worst line is probably telling God, “you’re the diamond in this rough”, which just reminds me o’ that South Park joke ’bout Christian songs just being love songs for Jesus. I mean, God isn’t e’en “in this rough”: his ass is safe in heaven, where he doesn’t have to worry ’bout being popped off as a casualty o’ gang violence.

Grade: C

Music Video

It’s your typical late-90s nu-metal music video taking place in a sunny suburb in California with the band members in khakis, dreads, & tats on stage rocking out. I swear I saw this exact same music video for a Papa Roach & Sum 41 song.

Grade: C

2. Boom

1st, the rapping in this song is much bouncier than the previous song, as is the grinding guitar riffs. The bass isn’t as interesting, but it’s close with that breakdown in the opening o’ the bridge.

The lyrics are a mixed bag. There’s mo’ rhyming & a li’l mo’ detail to what the rapper is saying, but they’re still not really saying anything, & the topic o’ this song is less interesting: it’s just a brag rap ’bout being successful; & since this is a ‪✝︎-rock band, they can’t e’en go that hard on the bragging.

The funniest thing ’bout this song I just learned is that ’twas included on Clear Channel’s lame-ass memorandum on songs that requested their stations not to play after 9/11, because remembering explosions exist, e’en metaphorical 1s by a Christian rock-rap band, would’ve traumatized all Americans.

Grade: C

Music Video

This is a much mo’ interesting music video than “Southtown”’s: P.O.D. in their orange jumpsuits show how badass they are by… beating a bunch o’ nerds @ table tennis. Also, they barely win against the nerds.

Grade: A

3. Going in Blind

This was 1 o’ the songs I’d skip when listening to this album, & now I know why: it sucks ass. The singing is terrible, lacking any kind o’ compelling rhythm or melody, stretched out agonizingly in places that don’t deserve it, & has way too much forced vocal energy & in general is melodramatic, especially those goofy ass echoes on the odd lines in the verses.

The lyrics are so vague & empty, I have no idea what this song is e’en ’bout, other than that it expresses distress in some way. They seem so jumbled that they almost seem to contradict each other @ times. ¿What does “going in blind” mean? ¿Having faith in God? That’s what, “¿do all these roads lead back to you?”, implies; but “time after time, I can’t see the signs” implies the opposite.

Hell, this song can’t e’en keep its perspective correct, flipping multiple times from 1st & 2nd person, with the 2nd person seeming to change, as well. As mentioned, “¿do all these roads lead back to you?”, implies that the “you” is God, which would be fine mixed with the 1st person, a discussion ’tween the protagonist & God, but the 1st lines in the song is, “this life’s not like you wanted it”, which sounds less like an omnipotent, e’erlasting being who can get whate’er they desire @ the snap o’ a finger & mo’ like a mopey teenager, especially when a later line says, “it’s your right not to feel again, just breathe again”, since I’d expect a Christian not to claim that he can tell God what rights they have or don’t have. The 1st 2 verses sound mo’ like they’re trying to console a suicidal friend; — bad consoling, since “it’s your right not to feel again” sounds like it’s encouraging suicide — but then we get the line, “it’s all right if you’re missing him”. OK, ¿so is the friend suicidal ’cause someone they cared ’bout died? But then immediately after that you get, “in his eyes you can live again, free within”, which implies that they “he” is God. ¿So is the friend “missing” God? ¿Missing how? ¿Did the friend personally know Jesus when Jesus was alive? ¿Or does he mean “missing him”, as in not having Jesus in his life? ¿So it’s OK to not have Jesus in his life, but he should, because “in his eyes you can live again”? This song is a mess.

Also, this song is when I noticed that the mixing on these songs is ass: all the instruments seem to mush together & sound fuzzy, especially the chorus.

Grade: F

Music Video

Another nu-metal music video cliché: the band singing in the dark while we cut to scenes o’ randos having nondescript forms o’ sadness: look, this middle-aged man is cheating on his wife & is reminded o’ his sinful behavior by seeing his ring on his finger.

Grade: D

4. Roots in Stereo

You know you’re in for a treat when you hear 2 generic riffs & drumbeats, followed by some rando crying out, “A-REEKI-OH-OH-OH”, in a fake Jamaican accent. That rando is, as P.O.D. singer Sonny Sandoval announces, Matisyahu, who is a white Jewish person from New York, who, indeed, does reggae.

& speaking o’ Sonny, he doesn’t disappoint with his opening line, “I got that boom bye bye so nobody disrespect jah love”. I don’t know what “that boom bye bye” is, but it sounds dangerous ’nough for Clear Channel to request not playing it on the radio, so I won’t disrespect. The song continues with lyrics o’ this calibre, while Matisyahu chimes in by crying out his own weird phrases a few times, & e’en gets a verse or 2. @ 1 point Matisyahu says to Sonny in a call-&-response verse, “me say, ‘hey, natty dreadlocks, ¿where you come from?”, & Sonny responds with the poetic line, “where the mountains watch the city & waters touch the sun”, whate’er that means, as opposed to what you’d expect: “¿what’d you call me, cracker?”.

E’en the music is going crazy on this song: on some verses during the latter half the guitar just starts squealing repeatedly.

Grade: 5 out o’ 5 Honkey Dreadlocks

5. Alive

This is a nice song. In fact, it’s probably too nice for a nu-metal song: it has the iconic nu-metal downtuned guitars, which are usually used to give a grimy, ugly, dour feel to the song, which is jarring when the singer is singing ’bout how happy he is to be alive, especially during the particularly dour-sounding bridge, where the music slows, the guitarwork is full o’ feedback, & the singer sounds raspy.

The lyrics are what you’d expect: a bunch o’ Hallmark Card clichés. Hell, the 1st 2 lines are, “every day is a new day / i’m thankful for every breath i take”. ’Course, there’s also the vague allusions to God thru lines like, “I can’t deny you”, &, “now that I know you, I could never turn my back away”, which are so vague, they could just be ’bout a human he’s really in love with.

Still, it’s the nicest song so far & the dour sound, whether intentionally or not, adds a dark ironic tone to the song that actually makes it mo’ interesting, like Devo’s “Beautiful World”.

Grade: B

Music Video

This is ’bout the same as “Going in Blind”’s, but in daylight & with mo’ dramatic ( & with worse effects ) filmography. It’s a’least amusingly bad & the scenery o’ P.O.D. rocking under a bunch o’ highways is mo’ interesting than being in front o’ a couple bushes, so it gets some extra points.

Grade: C

6. Youth of the Nation

Their biggest song, & for a good reason: unlike most o’ the songs we’ve heard so far, which couldn’t seem to settle on a coherent tone, blending dour nu-metal sound with optimistic lyrics, this song’s iconic far-’way-sounding bass & military marching drums fits perfectly with this song’s dour subject matter o’ children’s lives falling apart.

Lyrically, too, this song is much better than the others: while it does have that ✝︎-rock condescension & maudlin moralizing, — O no, a girl became a whore… — a’least the stories are specific. Also, “told the world how he felt with the sound of a gat” is probably the hardest lyric P.O.D. has e’er written. E’en the chorus’s repetitiousness, which would many times be a flaw, fits this song, as it’s essentially a chant; & “we are the youth of the nation” is a memorable line.

Grade: A

Music Video

I’m mixed on this music video: it sure looks nice, with that opening NY skyline under thick yellow fog, & the setpiece for the band with the wall o’ pictures o’ students is much mo’ inspired than a generic Californian suburb; but the scenes o’ young people driving round various places doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the song. Like, this is a song with 3 stories in it: ¿you couldn’t show these stories? Contrast with the much mo’ iconic music video to Pearl Jam’s “Jeremy”, which does a great job o’ actually representing the song’s similar subject matter.

7. Sleeping Awake

I always thought this was just your typical ✝︎-rock song ’bout looking forward to dying — naturally, ’course: no cheating by suicide — & going to heaven, which is metaphorically represented by “Zion”, the name o’ the Jewish holy land ( ’course, with how much the Israel-Palestine conflict has flared up yet again & the increased scrutiny the ideology o’ the founding o’ modern Israel, “Zionism”, has gotten, “dreaming of Zion” has different connotations now ); turns out this song is actually ’bout The Matrix, as this song was made for the The Matrix Reloaded soundtrack. Lucky for me, I don’t care, as heaven is as real to me as a city in a sci-fi movie.

This song sounds nice; & unlike “Alive”, it tones down the dour nu-metal elements & sounds softer, rather that deep, but still having a frantic energy to it that keeps it from getting boring. & while I don’t imagine myself singing it @ the latest antiwar protest, “dreaming of Zion awake…” is an infectiously catchy chorus.

Grade: A

Music Video

O, wow, we have the band playing in a brownish-white mansion: we really are going for all the nu-metal music video clichés. O, but we have this side by side with a grimy, sci-fi area — which is a blatant ripoff o’ the music video for Linkin Park’s “Papercut”. Tsk, tsk.

Grade: F

8. Rock the Party (Off the Hook)

& now we’re back to hilarious tonal whiplash: the repetitive rough riffs give this song a menacing sound, but the lyrics are ’bout having the tamest party that Jesus would approve o’, with such cringe lyrics as, “& ain’t nobody getting crazy, so you know it’s all good”. I sure wouldn’t want my party that’s “off the hook” to get too off the hook. On the other hand, this song did predict Fortnite dances with, “floss your style”. It’s too bad, ’cause the aforementioned menacing riffs would sound great with a song whose lyrics aren’t constantly reminding you o’ how lame it is.

Grade: C

Music Video

I could only find this music video on some rando YouTube channel called DarkDave, so hopefully this video doesn’t get taken down. It’s odd that P.O.D. wouldn’t be interested in showing it, since the setpiece o’ them rocking in the middle o’ an absurdly long bus with weird fish-angle shots is 1 o’ the few that isn’t a nu-metal cliché. I mean, nothing really happens in it, but nothing seems to happen in any P.O.D. music videos so far, so the bar is low.

Grade: C

9. Lights Out

& now we have ’nother brag rap with all the hardness o’ Will Smith, with lines like, “chiggity-check, microphone check” & “we bang boogie thru your system, subliminal”.

’Cept this 1 sounds worse: while I like the deep, grinding riffs in the bridge, I’m not found o’ the squeaky, repetitive riffs in the verses.

Grade: D

Music Video

& now we’re back to generic setpieces. ¿Where’d they e’er get the idea to do something so creative as to film themselves on Times Square? You bitches aren’t e’en from NY: you’re from their biggest rival, California. ¿You couldn’t film yourselves in San Diego’s urban center — or, hell, ¿Hollywood?

Grade: D

10. Goodbye for Now

This is a nice song. & unlike “Alive”, this song’s softer strings & notes fit well with this song’s mellower sound. Plus, while the lyrics are still vague, the subject matter o’ dealing with a loved one’s death is much mo’ interesting than just… being happy ’bout being alive. & the leader singer’s singing isn’t nearly as forced.

Grade: B

Music Video

Yup, that lead singer sure is walking thru an unrealistically windy city under the cast o’ a color filter. You know, it’s really sad that the band I choose to do a greatest hits album, with the most music videos, has the least interesting music videos.

Grade: D

11. Execute the Sounds

& then we get yet ’nother brag rap with corny-ass lyrics, — nothing says you’re the “real hardcore”, as they claim, as starting a lyric with counting like you’re the Count: “It goes 1, 2, 3… the crew is called P.O.D.…” — fake-Jamaican rapping, & goofy, annoying twanging strings thruout the verses. I guess the chorus has pretty decent energy.

Grade: D

12. Will You

This is the most generic o’ vague love songs, & worst off, it’s annoying & boring @ the same time: the verses are sing-songy, with an annoyingly repetitive smaltzy ending to e’ery line, the chorus is just shouting & a basic rise in bitch, the bridge is basically just talking & just repeating, “yesterday”, again & again, the instruments go from sounding squeaky in the verses to just being a bland blast o’ noise during the chorus. & if the uninspired lyrics in the bridge aren’t ’nough, the verses, which also mostly just list off vague negative words that rhyme with each other, & the chorus, which is just 2 lines that could come from Valentine’s Day cards, aren’t much better.

Whate’er complaints I’d have ’bout all the earlier songs, a’least they all sounded distinctly P.O.D.: this song could’ve been written & performed by any C-list nu-metal band.

Grade: F

Music Video

This is the 3rd time we have a music video going back & forth ’tween the band rocking in some random place & scenes o’ generic sadness. A’least the setpiece for the band — a construction site with a excavator digging ’hind them — is mo’ interesting than most o’ their other music videos.

Grade: C

13. Truly Amazing

Lol, this song is from the official soundtrack for The Passion of the Christ.

Actually, I like the gloomy bass & low-key singing during the verses, which kind o’ fits the bittersweet energy o’ the whole “humanity is saved ’cause Jesus got literally crucified”. Unfortunately, the annoying chorus, where the singing sounds off pitch & seems to have too much forced energy, kinda ruins it.

What I’m saying, this song’s all right, but for bittersweet song’s ’bout Jesus’s sacrifice, it’s got nothing on “Gethsemane” from the superior Jesus Christ Superstar soundtrack.

Grade: C

14. Satellite

In addition to our typical squeaky guitars & a chorus which is just chanting the word, “satellite”, we get the singer sometimes going into this weird baby talk in the verses on parts where he sings, “but only time will tell if it’s truly for real / can’t change your mind all i know this is what i feel” &, fittingly, “some call it asinine”.

Not only does this song work just as well as a generic love song as a Jesus song, it actually works better as a love song for a normal person. I kinda get what the composer was going for by representing an all-seeing deity as a satellite watching o’er you; but what he forgot is that another general factor o’ satellites is that they are subordinate to what they revolve: the satellites are, by the nature o’ the laws o’ physics, smaller masses trapped in the gravity o’ the larger mass. I’m pretty certain depicting God as this li’l helper fairy who exists purely to solve humanity’s issues is blasphemous in all forms o’ Christianity.

Grade: D

Music Video

It’s exactly what you expect: scenes o’ a satellite zooming in on San Diego interspersed with scenes o’ the band jamming. Sometimes they’re on a stage, sometimes they’re in the woods with a gnarly color filter. It’s yet another P.O.D. music video.

Grade: C

15. Set Your Eyes to Zion

Coincidentally, ·“set your eyes to Zion” is what I’m doing, if we describe “Zion” as the holy land o’ when I don’t have to listen to this album anymo’ or have to think o’ interesting things to say ’bout these songs.

So we start with somebody — possibly Sonny Sandoval still; Matisyahu is not credited on this song — saying, “Here Mr. Deadman… rejoice”, in a goofy fake Jamaican accent, & then we get goofy generic tropical riffs that sound mo’ like surf rock than raggae. Also, I think I heard that winchlike sound & the rare rattle sounds from a song in Mario Party. There’s also these alien-like “woooo-oooo” sounds thruout, which don’t sound relevant to raggae or Zion, unless Zion takes place in outerspace.

Meanwhile, the singing & rapping barely sound like they have any rhythm & just feel lazy. E’erything ’bout this song feels lazy. The lyrics aren’t e’en amusingly bad, like with “Roots in Stereo”, but are just uninspired lines ’bout God being great which the composer attempted to texturize by adding stock imagery, like describing God as “shade even @ 96°”. If “Truly Amazing” was an inferior “Gethsemane”, this song is an inferior “Benjamin Calypso” from Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. A’least that song referenced a specific, interesting part o’ the Bible, where Joseph’s brothers who backstabbed him & intended to leave him to die prove they changed their ways by sacrificing themselves to save their 2nd youngest brother, Benjamin. It will ne’er not boggle my mind that with how many great dramatic stories in the Bible, ✝︎-rock bands ne’er reference them in detail, but just give generic lines ’bout how great God is.

Grade: D

16. Here We Go

I kinda like the deep riffs thru the verses, especially with the short pauses before the drumbeat, but hate the squealing riffs in the chorus & how uninspired the chorus’s melody is.

Lyrically, this song is just a generic love song, but with maybe God mixed in a li’l. Actually, it’s funny: the lyrics in the 2nd verse kinda sound like he’s trying to introduce his girlfriend to God as if he has a cuckold fetish & wants to watch Jesus take his girl. It doesn’t help that he keeps talking ’bout “driving this to its knees” in the bridge. Tho the ending to the 2nd verse is confusing: the 1st 2 lines are, “she never did believe in love until she’d seen him”, implying that she was a dirty atheist before he introduced her to God, but then ends with, “she says you’re going to think I’m crazy / but you got to believe me”, which implies she is the 1 nervously trying to introduce him to her cringe religion.

Grade: C

17. If It Wasn’t for You

You know a song’s good when the 1st think you hear is off-key shouting, “IF IT WASN’T FOR YOU”, only to be followed by corny coffee-shop beatnik monologues ’bout how based Jesus was. Sonically, this goes back & forth ’tween sleep-inducing notes & loud blasts o’ manufactured music, none o’ which I particularly enjoy listening to.

Also, this is nitpicking, but “if it wasn’t for you, none o’ this would mean a thing”, is an absurd line for a Christian to God. Christian theology holds that without God, you wouldn’t e’en be able to sing this song — which, now that I think ’bout it, might not be the best way to sell cynical atheists on wanting to be happy ’bout God’s existence. E’en mo’ absurd is the following line, “if it wasn’t for you, tell me, ¿why else would I believe?”. I mean, yeah, if you were sure there was no God, then by definition you wouldn’t be believing in the existence o’ God — that’s what “believing” means.

Grade: D

Conclusion

In hindsight, given all the meming we’ve done together on various other nu-metal bands, it’s surprising how… bland P.O.D. is. “Roots in Stereo” was the only song worth meming on — & e’en it was no “Monster” by Skillet or “Rawkfist”. & beyond a few standout tracks, hardly any o’ these songs are surprise bangers or e’en worth remembering @ all. It almost feels… blasphemous, ironically, to have a rap-rock nu-metal ✝︎-rock band that’s so forgettable.

One might argue that my decision to focus only on the hits may have skewed my experience here, but I’m almost certain it made things better than the alternative: I listened thru albums like Satellite & their self-titled, & if anything, the deep cuts on those albums are e’en lamer & mo’ forgettable.

Final Grade: 😴

Crossfade was a vaguely 2000s-sounding rock band who released their self-titled, Crossfade, in 2004 & I listened to it as a kid then. ¿Is there anything interesting to say ’bout this album? I sure hope so, ’cause we’re going to be looking @ it this month.

1. Starless

A decent banger, especially the the noodly deep riffs that sound like revving engines that open this song & the way the main singer elongates the last word o’ e’ery line in the chorus. Granted, I’m not sure how I feel ’bout the ultra whiteboy reggae rapping our boy’s doing in the bridge.

The lyrics jump all o’er the place, but all tie to the vague energy o’ being unhappy, which will be a pattern on this album — & in 2000s nu-metal / post-grunge in general, ’course. I just love how the 2nd verse starts with the brag o’, “i can transcend you & mentally bend you”, only to continue with mo’ lines ’bout unhappy the singer is.

As for the chorus, it is just a muddled metaphor: the singer sings ’bout feeling vaguely “starless”, whate’er that means, but then describes himself as “ready to fade now”. OK, ¿so are you the space that possesses the stars or are you a star yourself? & then the backup singer moans ’bout how he’s “grayed out”, which isn’t something black outer space or stars do, e’en when they implode. If they’re talking ’bout star death, that’s a terrible metaphor for depression, as star deaths are not only glamorous, they also eventually lead to new stars or planets, which is way mo’ hopeful than the singers probably intended, given the dour sound o’ this song.

Grade: B

2. Cold

The big hit from this album — probably the 1 song you’ll find from the band in 2004 playlists & the like. It’s a fitting title, as I always felt cool on this song, neither hating nor loving it, but its subject o’ regret for letting relationships fade out is relatable, I guess — tho I’m sure there were many, many better songs o’ the same mood back then. I do kind o’ like the warm guitar tones & the robotic, droning way the backup singer says, “never meant to be so cold”, but the lyrics are just bland & trite: “you’re the antidote that gets me by / something strong like a drug that gets me high”. If she was the antidote that got you by, ¿why was it so easy for you to ignore her? & while telling someone they get you high is great for a loud, wild, fun song ’bout a freak with which you have sloppy sex, it doesn’t work when you’re trying to be romantic.

Grade: C

Music Video

That said, I do like this music video & its irony o’ having the singer loudly sing an apology song, presumably aimed @ his girlfriend, with his whole band only to be so into singing said song that he shoves off said girlfriend. That twist saves it from falling victim to the tediousness o’ being yet ’nother 2000s music video where the band just plays in a dingy, poorly-lit room.

Grade: A

3. So Far Away

The problem with doing these song-by-song reviews is it forces me to notice things I wouldn’t — & probably shouldn’t — care ’bout, such as the absurdity that a sweet, sorrowful song ’bout how regretful the protagonist is that they were so cold toward their girlfriend is followed by a bitter song ’bout how glad the protagonist is that he left his bitch o’ a girlfriend while taunting, “now i’m blaming you for everything…”.

Musically, howe’er, this is much mo’ interesting than the previous song, starting with a slow, droning country-like menacing intro, building up to the point o’ doing some Papa Roach style whisper shout @ the end. It’s goofy as hell, but, hey, if anything it’d work nowadays — I’d take it o’er MGK pretending to be a country singer.

Grade: B

4. Colors

This is the other single from this album & is e’en lamer than “Cold”, with its smarmy subject-matter o’ telling some girl with low self-esteem, aw, honey, why you gotta be so down when it’s not shinin’ off your best colors, which just reminds me o’ the cliché o’ weird men telling random women to smile. The melodramatic way the singer sings “SURELY NOT THE BEEEEST COLORS THAT YOU SHIIIIINE” with this hokey metaphor ’bout some woman’s “colors not shining” makes it e’en lamer.

It gets a D instead o’ an F ’cause I like the music’s texture & while the melodies & beats are forgettable, they’re not nearly as unlistenable as some o’ the other stuff I’ve listened to for this series.

Grade: D

Music Video

E’en the music video is much lamer than “Cold”, just being the band playing on a rooftop — gee, that’s original — in Breaking Bad Mexico interspersed with random clips o’ some woman… vaguely unhappy with her home life, only for the music video to end with her climbing up to their rooftop & dropping a necklace into the street — possibly hurting someone if it landed on them, the inconsiderate asshole — to solemn silence. How deep.

Grade: F

5. Death Trend Setta

If there’s 1 thing you can credit to this album, it’s got variety. We follow a hokey pop-country-style ballad with this stomping song with some great whiteboy-rapped prechoruses. Howe’er, this song’s funky-fresh title ( notice the way “setter” is spelled “setta”, which is a linguistical twist they do down in “the ghetto”, according to my research ) stands out from this song’s otherwise predictable lyrics o’ vague petulance toward some associate — possibly an ex-lover — with the protagonist out o’ nowhere proclaiming, “& now you see i could be / another would-be / another death trend setta” whate’er that’s s’posed to mean. Considering the line “would-be”, which is pejorative, it can’t be a boast. ¿Is this random associate trying to make our protagonist not be himself just to fit in & not use corny-ass phrases like “death trend setta”. I dunno. Still, it’s a catchy song.

Grade: B

6. The Deep End

O, now I remember why I wanted to review this album: this amazing obscure gem. We start with some goofy-ass twanging notes, followed by our main singer singing his heart out with this amazing metaphor: “i built my life like my bike on a rigid frame / so nothing bends it only breaks into / pieces & pieces”; & then, in case you didn’t get ’nough time to quite appreciate these eloquent lyrics, the other singer in a comically deep, southern accent repeats this 1st verse, line-by-line. & then in the 3rd verse the main singer comes back to whine ’bout how boring his Saturdays are.

Grade: S

7. No Giving Up

I’m also glad I was reminded ’bout this song, a funky-fresh whiteboy dance rap jam ’bout how you should totally, like, not end your life, homey. Move o’er “Not Like Us”: this summer I’m cripwalkin’ to these G-funk lyrics:

when you were just gettin’ in the groove
now you’re faced with something new

i’m hittin’ back y’all, kickin’ these 4 walls
just as hard as i can till i can’t crawl

well it’s all right we’re sayin’ our goodbyes
to the past & everything that ain’t right

Note: those last lines probably don’t work as well as the composer thought, given you’re s’posed to be trying to convince someone not to say goodbye to e’erything.

Grade: A

8. Dead Skin

¿Another store-brand country song?

some days i pray
someone will blow me away
make it quick but let it burn
so i can feel my life fade

¿& what happened to “no givin’ up now, y’all”? This song is literally the opposite o’ the previous: the last 1 was all, “forget ’bout the past, it’s OK”, & this 1’s all, “I can’t shed my skin / ¿why can’t I begin again?”.

Sonically, the hokey music & verse singing isn’t doing it for me, & the way they sing the chorus, especially the, “I CAN’T GET OUT OF THIS DEAD SKIIIIIIN”, sounds weirdly muffled. Still better than that “Colors” song, tho.

Grade: C

9. Disco

This song is just bizarre: verses mocking somebody who seems to think they’re hot shit, but they’re “act[ing] like a whore beggin’ for crack or a sack”, but actually the singer could totally beat their ass, only to contradict that with the last line o’ the verses, “with every breath you take you bring me down”; then we get some whispered tough-guy lyrics; & then we get a bouncy chorus ’bout how somebody’s discoing so much that they soiled their own pants — I’m not making that up, that’s part o’ the chorus. & I don’t e’en know what’s going on in the bridge — “¿so what’s your point?”, indeed. If I had to guess, this song is probably ’bout some friend o’ the singer’s who ruined their life doing drugs, & the discoing is a goofy metaphor for these drug trips. It’s very odd how the band bounces from vague & cliché songs like “Cold” or “Dead Skin” to mindboggling songs like this.

I won’t pretend it’s not catchy & fun to sing ’long to, “you’re wasted now & you’re gettin’ on down with the disco…”, tho.

Grade: A

10. The Unknown

This song’s main doomy riff is the best on this album, as is the solo in the middle & the weird sounds o’ a car skidding on the road. The lyrics, meanwhile, are vague & bland, but inoffensive, with talk o’ “walkin’ in your shoes” & “steppin’ all over your soul”.

Grade: B

Conclusion

Like Breaking Benjamin’s Saturate, this album was mo’ interesting than I remember.

Final Grade: B

Like Puddle of Mudd, Hinder is 1 o’ those bands you know rookies don’t know ’bout when they call Nickelback the worst post-grunge band e’er. Hinder is Nickelback, but somehow e’en less interesting, as a’least Nickelback sometimes make songs ’bout prom queens dumping their newborn babies in the trash, whereas I’m pretty sure the most out-there song Hinder has e’er wrote is 1 ’bout having hate sex after smoking weed. ¿So why am I covering this band? Well, for 1, the other band I was considering, Buck Cherry, seemed e’en less interesting…

The album we’re reviewing is the only 1 anyone cares ’bout, Extreme Behavior — extreme for boomers, that is. You can see how extreme this album is by the super sexy vanilla woman in heart-red lingerie, which certainly pops 1 o’ my monocles.

1. Get Stoned

If this sounds like a generic hard-rock song, prepare yourself: this was its 1st big single & with its ringing opening, marching verses, & catchy chorus o’, “go home, get stoned”, — that is the extreme behavior this album opens with, doing 1 o’ the least dangerous drugs that e’en my nerdy ass does — which was clearly meant to be relatable to all the white trash couples ( no hate ), this will surely be the least generic o’ this album’s repertoire.

& honestly, it’s a banger, I guess. I’ve thrived thru several years o’ not listening to it, & will probably not go back & listen to it again hereafter, so I wouldn’t exactly call it a fav, but I do have nostalgia for it, a’least — & I do like that growled, “LEEEEET’S”, that opens up the chorus with all its cheese.

Grade: B

Music Video

The music video is just the band singing on stage with them surrounded by sexy women. Yawn. Worse, the band doesn’t e’en have rizz: the lead singer is a twink who looks like he belongs in an emo bad & does awkward movements with his arms as he sings that makes him look like he has some motor dysfunctions.

Grade: D

2. How Long

This song is low-key kinda a banger, too, with its fast-paced chorus, especially the growly way the singer sings, “I can’t see him with you”, as he leads into the chorus. Howe’er, here is where I start to notice the terrible lyricism, especially in the chorus, where we get the double-decker o’, “¿why’d you go & break what’s already broken?” ( if it’s already broken, ¿how could one break it after? ) & “I try to take a breath but I’m already choking” ( trite ).

Worse, this song in general is a childish incel anthem, whining ’bout some woman who’s with someone else & how she tries to friendzone him, to which he replies, maturely, “with 1 finger I said, ‘¡fuck that!’”. Yeah, you sure burned her, bro. You sure triggered that mom from 7th Heaven. This is surely the extreme behavior we were promised by this album’s title.

Grade: C

3. By the Way

( Sigh ) I was hoping we would go longer before we got a lame, whiny ballad. & this particular song offers nothing: it is the most generic o’ hard rock ( that isn’t e’en hard ) songs. I’ve already forgotten the riffs & drumbeats, so let’s talk ’bout the lyrics. We get this great chorus:

& by the way
by the way
¿what made you think you’d have it your way?

Yeah, ho, it’s my way or the highway. Great to see we’re rhyming the same word with itself. This is literally a lamer version o’ the famous chorus from a Backstreet Boys song. I repeat: Hinder is being mogged by the Backstreet Boys. Also, I’d much rather listen to that song. With its bouncy chorus & snappy drums, it’s probably harder, too. ( Tho, ’course, not as hard as this memetic version from the ol’ internet that only the real ones know ).

The rest is no better. The refrain has the singer state plainly that he is having a breakdown. As I mentioned when reviewing Papa Roach’s “Binge”, I love when songs just tell you directly how they feel without any poetry or cleverness. This is nothing compared to Breaking Benjamin’s classic, “WHAT I FOUND IN THIS TOWN / I’M HEADED FOR A BREAKDOWN”. Take notes, Hinder… o’ 2 decades ago, I guess.

Grade: F

4. Nothin’ Good About Goodbye

A song so generic, it literally starts with cowbell — & a basic rhythm on it that’s basically the iconic 1 from Nazareth’s “Hair of the Dog” but slowed down & lower-pitched, to boot. Then we get the annoying, simplistic, thumping chorus, with the 1 exception being the way the singer drops his tone when entering the eponymous line.

The lyrics, on the other hand, are hilariously insipid. The 1st verse ends with the bizarre lines, “but then you called to say / you forgot that broach of your mother’s” ( replacing the mo’ natural possessive “mother’s broach” with the awkward prepositional phrase, “that broach of your mother’s”, to contrive a rhyme ). The 2nd verse matches that with, “but then you called again / to tell me how you’re going to blow my best friend” ( doesn’t sound like such a tight friend to me if he’s cucking you ).

Unfortunately, the rest is just boring & repetitive, with 2 whole section o’ just saying, “fa-faling apart”.

Grade: D

5. Bliss ( I Don’t Wanna Know )

Ugh. Technically, this probably has the singer’s best vocal performance on the chorus, but his best is just D-tier Sick Puppies singer, who is already a C-tier Three Days Grace singer. Meanwhile, the verses, as well as their drumbeats & main riffs, are all so snore-inducingly predictable.

The lyrics are no less predictable, & lack the cheesy humor o’ the previous song’s attempts @ lyrics: as a highlight, the chorus rhymes “kiss” with the totally original phrase, “ignorance is bliss”.

Grade: 😴

6. Better Than Me

I think you can do much better than me…

You’re right, Hinder: I could be listening to much better music than this. ¿What’s wrong with me?

This is a post-grunge ballad, which you know will suck, with its basic-bitch piano notes & strings. We do get a return to the odd lyrical choices o’ “Nothin’ Good About Goodbye”, with the singer singing with the deepest o’ agony, “I really miss your hair in my face / & the way your innocence tastes”. True poetry.

Grade: D

Music Video

I’m honestly surprised a song other than “Get Stoned” & “Lips of an Angel” got a music video. Apparently this album had 5 singles, including “How Long” & the upcoming “Homecoming Queen”. I ne’er heard any other than “Get Stoned” & “Lips of an Angel” on the radio, because nobody likes Hinder ’nough to need 5 singles in their life.

Anyway, this song’s music video radically reinterprets the song from a man sitting in regret in an empty house o’er the relationship he destroyed to a man literally killing himself by doing drugs, which also destroys a relationship. Unsurprisingly, it’s melodramatic, especially the way the man smashes the lightbulb to cook his evil drugs & the weird headscarf the woman wears to his funeral — which is to say that the music video is much mo’ entertaining than the song itself.

Grade: B

7. Room 21

This song is so amazingly trash. We have the goofy-ass Taco-Bell-cowboy fake country twang & the singer trying this sleazy voice, but just sounding goofy — especially the way he o’erannunciates, “this BYIIIITCH blew me away…”. Then we get to the chorus where whate’er cowboy tone we were trying to convey is completely blown ’way by the boy-band “buh buh-buh buh buh…”s. Later on the singer is apparently too chickenshit to say “cock”, so he says, “she said she loved the taste o’ my O, O, O…”, like an elementary school child.

This is what Genius had to say ’bout this song:

It’s that song about a 1 night stand! LOL Yeah Austin, it certainly is!

No comment.

Grade: 🤠

8. Lips of an Angel

¡Nooooo! ¡Not this song again! I already talked ’bout this song in the divorced dad rock album review, where this astonishingly only got an A, tho I think I should’ve bumped that up to an S.

Well, I didn’t really review it in detail, since I was focused more on relevance than quality; but I did say there that this song blows ass, & I stand by that. It’s a cheesy, schmaltzy ballad ’bout a dude talking lovingly to a woman he’s seeing on the side on the phone, with such heartwarming lyrics as, “O, well, my girl’s in the next room / sometimes I wish she was you”, as well as telling this other woman, “it’s hard to be faithful / with the lips of an angel”. Apparently this protagonist has ne’er heard o’ “emotional cheating”: bro, you ain’t be faithful.

Honestly, this drama wouldn’t be a bad concept for a song, but Hinder can’t write for shit & this song wastes its paltry verse lyrics ­— you know, what would be the meat o’ the song — on inane small talk. We don’t e’en know why this dude likes this woman, beyond I guess her voice being sexy. There’s no development o’ the drama o’ his girlfriend finding out or anything. E’en the song title is a waste: you’d hardly imagine a title like “Lips of an Angel” to refer to a side fling, nor is it particularly memorable or clever. It’s easy to get distracted from the main drama by the generic schmaltzy language. Imagine a trite, “I lovey lovey lovey love you, baby…”, & a few times there’s a few brief mentions o’, “O, yeah, so my real girlfriend’s in the room, so…”.

But mostly, this song just sounds like ass, with its twinkly opening frets & the melodramatic way the singer sings, especially on lines like, “sounds so sweeeeeeeet”. This song exploits e’ery cheap ballad trick in the book, & I hate it for that.

Grade: F

Music Video

The music video only makes this scenario look e’en mo’ absurd: the song has his girl in “the next room”, while here she’s in the same room, clearly looking @ him while he bellows into the phone ’bout how much he’s in love with another women.

I also feel like ’twas a bad idea to make his girlfriend a blonde bombshell, as it makes the protagonist look e’en dumber cheating on her for someone else he praises purely in aesthetic qualities — unless the twist is that his girlfriend has a gremlin voice, which would explain the protag’s emphasis on the other girl’s “lips of an angel”.

Also, we get more o’ the lead singer’s awkward arm gestures as he sings. I do like the extra drama o’ his yanking on his hipster tie like it’s a noose during the chorus near the end.

Grade: C

9. Homecoming Queen

Cool, so we’re starting out by ripping off the famous guitar riff from “Sweet Child o’ Mine”. Surely nobody would notice, certainly not the kind o’ boomer hard-rock fan who’d listen to Hinder.

If you could believe me, this is the worst song on the album. We have schmaltzy crooning singing o’er what sounds like music from a cheesy TV show opening. But the absolute worst is the chorus, with the “SHAME, SHAME, SHAME / THAT OUR HOMECOMING QUAAAAAENN”, with the singer intentionally mispronouncing “queen” just to keep the rhyme. Truly a sonic war crime.

The lyrics are clearly trying to be poetic without anyone actually thinking ’bout what they’re talking ’bout, so we get nonsense like, “she’s the holy ghost lost without a trace” & “& she never walked on water…”. Yeah, it’s crazy that some homecoming queen isn’t Jesus: I remember in Revelation they promised he’d return as a homecoming queen.

This song also has this condescending aura o’, “O, this poor girl ruined herself by getting into so much whoredom”, specially with the vomit-inducing lines, “she’s just somebody’s daughter / just looking for somebody to love her”, which seems hypocritical, given how the rest o’ this song treats women. & like all o’ Hinder’s songs, this song is so vague & abstract that I don’t really know what the problem is. For instance, we get the following lines:

but loved partin’ & havin’ too much fun
then she hooked up with the wrong someone
& he promised everything under the sun
& it seems to me
she’s a casualty of all the pressure
that he put on her
& now we’ve lost her for good

But no elaboration on what any o’ that means. ¿Who was this “wrong someone” & what did they do? ¿Were they a pimp who turned her into a prostitute? ¿A drug dealer? ¿What “pressure” did he put on her? ¿& what happened to her to make her “lost for good”? ¿Did she also give birth during prom & throw the baby in a dumpster? This could describe anything from a life-ending tragedy to some dude butthurt that another dude got the girl he wanted.

Grade: F

10. Shoulda

Hinder just keeps making these songs based round phrases that are both cliché & corny as hell: in this case “shoulda, woulda, coulda”, which sounds like what a child would say. But to be fair, this song’s concept isn’t terrible, & this time Hinder does give enough details while still being poetic, with the lines, “if I could go back in time / I’d say those 3 words”, clearly referring to “I love you”. It’s not amazing, but it’s the best lyrics I’ve seen from Hinder so far. Unfortunately, the rest o’ the lyrics are goofy. We follow that up with the bathic, “when you said those 3 words / I kinda freaked out”, as well as mo’ trite & corny rhymes, like, “& this can’t be saved if you can’t be found / you hung up & left me for dead on the ground”.

As for the music… I don’t care ’nough ’bout the music to talk ’bout it. Somebody is certainly playing drums & guitar on this song. I assume there’s bass, too: I think it’s buried in the mix.

Grade: D

Conclusion

& now we see why Hinder has been forgotten while Nickelback still stays firmly lodged in our minds: Hinder isn’t e’en memorably bad, just bland. They had a couple hits which weren’t e’en that good or outright awful & a bunch o’ padding round it. My deepest apologizes for how boring this review was, but if we are to get a clear look @ 2000s metal / hard rock, we must acknowledge the tediously bad as well as the wonderful awful.

Final Grade: D

Encore was an album so bad that people theorize Eminem made it bad on purpose to deliberately sabotage his own career due to becoming so jaded with his rap persona, e’en tho I haven’t seen any quote from Eminem backing this up. ( Mo’ likely ’twas a mix o’ being on drugs; rushing out songs to replace songs that were leaked… because for some reason he couldn’t just release the album with leaked songs, for no reason given; & just wanting to get this album out, & thus lacking the ambitious care that went into his earlier albums when he was trying to make it, now that he had already made it ). After 3 classic albums & only 2 years after what many consider possibly his best song e’er, “Lose Yourself”, his devolution here is striking.

As a kid who didn’t have the most discerning tastes, I didn’t notice quite as much, tho as I went down my older sister’s collection o’ albums in chronological order, I did lose interest round albums 3 & 4. In particular, I mistook the goofiest songs on this album for the usual wackiness he exhibited back on The Slim Shady LP, where he would have songs involving him rapping ’bout raping a fat woman o’er Italian soap opera music & ’nother where he rapped ’bout beating up Foghorn Leghorn with an acorn. Tho those songs were considered the worst on this album, those were actually the ones that stuck with me the most; & since this is a series that revels in fascinating disasters, they will surely be the songs we fixate on the most today.

1. Curtains Up

Like all Eminem albums, this is full o’ kinda pointless skits. This a’least opens the album’s o’erarching story where he walks onstage to cheering crowds with a gun hid ’hind his back ( which you wouldn’t know unless you looked @ the insert o’ the CD ) & continues the theme introduced in its earlier twin, The Eminem Show, o’ the irony o’ people hero-worshipping someone as fucked up as Eminem.

Grade: A

2. Evil Deeds

Eminem: “¿What if I repeated the last phrase o’ each line multiple times to pad out the 1st verse?”.

“& also, ¿what if I randomly interpolated a remix o’ ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb’? Also, ¿have I mentioned that my dad was a deadbeat yet?”.

predominantly, predominantly,
everything’s always predominantly
predominantly white, predominantly black
well, ¿what about me?
¿where does that leave me?
well, I guess that I’m between predominantly both of ’em

it turns out Logic is not the 1st “biracial” rapper, after all.

We also get such gems as, “it’s such bullshit, it’s tuch mull bish” — no, I didn’t mistype that last part: he just says a bunch o’ gibberish for no reason — & him interpolating “Ring Around the Rosie” for no reason. What we don’t really get is much o’ the multiple internal rhymes that is kind o’ why people like Eminem so much. This whole song sounds halfassed, from the rambling lyrics, basic chorus, & generic bump-clap beat. Hell, it’s so halfassed that the last verse ends with Eminem talking ’bout passing the baton to 50 Cent, only for the song to end. ¿Did somebody leave 50’s verse out or was Eminem just, like, “¡psyche! ¡fuck you, 50, if you think you’re featuring on my album!”.

Grade: F

3. Never Enough ( feat. 50 Cent & Nate Dogg )

O, here’s 50 Cent.

In contrast to “Evil Deeds”, which was a hilarious trainwreck, this song is just… fine. It’s got a dramatic beat, Em’s typical catchy “miracle spherical lyrical” rapping, & an e’en catchier chorus with Nate Dogg’s smooth voice. Granted, Em’s voice sounds weirdly strained in the chorus, but whate’er. I could put it in the background & enjoy it perfectly fine.

Howe’er, none o’ the lines are memorable for being good, & the lines memorable for being weird aren’t as funny as the kind o’ trainwrecks we’ll see later. Eminem whines ’bout how people don’t respect him ’nough, as he does all too oft, despite being 1 o’ the most respected rappers out there; 50 Cent says some generic gangster shit, with 1 particular line standing out to me: “i go ballistic as hieroglyphic”. Genius tells me it’s a reference to the phrase, “to go up the wall”, & I believe them, since it makes mo’ sense than anything I could theorize; but I was already familiar with the phrase & somehow putting together the riddle o’ “¿what do ballistic & hieroglyphic have in common?” didn’t lead me to that phrase. It doesn’t help that it awkwardly uses an adjective as a simile: would’ve made mo’ sense to say “i go ballistic as hieroglyphs”. Whate’er: I’d take a weird-ass line like that o’er forgettable lines like, “you gon’ say the wrong shit & get your whole face split”.

The other line that stood out to me was in the middle o’ Nate Dogg’s smooth chorus o’ normal, serious lines, where he suddenly bursts out, “no matter how many magazines on my nuts”. I can’t tell if this is bragging ’bout magazines loving them or mentioning Eminem’s long beef with the owner o’ the hiphop magazing The Source, Benzino — yes, Eminem beefed with a magazine owner, & that wasn’t e’en the goofiest beef he was in round the time. All I imagine is somebody holding up a large stack o’ magazines on their cock… which, now that I think ’bout it, would mean having a strong, presumably large cock, so… I guess it actually works great as a brag.

Grade: C

4. Yellow Brick Road

Well, it’s certainly not Breaking Benjamin’s “Home”, that’s for sure.

I’d already heard that this was the song Eminem made to respond to the excavation of ol’ racist raps he made in response to a black girl dumping him. What I didn’t know till I relistened to this song is that he “addresses” it by rambling for 3 verses ’bout irrelevant shit ’bout his past like Grampa Simpson before finally coming up the story o’ the girl who dumped him & being all, “Yeah, it was racist, sorry ( ¡tho some people thought my rapping was so good! )”. I love how he claims he was only dating this black girl to piss off his on-again / off-again girlfriend, Kim, which makes it sound worse: it’s easier to empathize with someone who was racist due to having their mind clouded by emotional pain than someone who was just annoyed their scheme didn’t work.

Also, lol that X Clan was “racist” ’cause ’twas Afrocentric. I don’t e’en know where this idea that white rappers were out in the early 90s: the Beastie Boys still had plenty o’ hits in the early 90s, like “Pass the Mic”, “So What’cha Want”, & “Sure Shot”, toured with respected rap acts like Cypress Hill as early as 1992, & collaborated with respected rappers like Biz Markie & Q-Tip. Em could’ve just learned to play the guitar & drums & became a rock-rapper: problem solved.

Also, this song sounds like ass: I hate the click drums & the weird mouth sounds Eminem makes in the background thruout & the goofy squeaky notes, as well as the country-bumpkin chorus. Tho “Evil Deeds” is, from a critical level, mo’ half-assed, I would actually rather listen to that than this song, which isn’t funny, just boring & annoying.

Grade: F

5. Like Toy Soldiers

I think fans generally like this song. I am not 1 o’ them, howe’er: I ne’er liked Eminem’s super serious songs. I’m sorry, but you can’t go from rapping ’bout wrapping a rope round your penis & jumping from a tree or raping your own mother to making this kind o’ mawkish ballad comparing yourself to a solider ’cause you beat a rap beef with the owner o’ a fucking hiphop magazine or Ja Rule, who is so unimportant people only remember him from losing a beef to Eminem. Famous bitch boy Drake wasn’t this whiny ’bout his beef with Kendrick — & Eminem won this beef.

Also, the lyrics are lame & uninspired, with the 1st 2 lines rhyming “solider” with “never blows his composure” with “i hold the weight of the whole world on my shoulders”. Usually when Eminem has wack lyrics they’re a’least memorably goofy, like “that’s an awfully hot coffee pot” or “you bring the buns, i’ll bring the asperger’s”: this song’s mostly shit any rapper could write.

Grade: D

Music Video

The music video adds extra bathos to the melodrama by trying to depict 1 o’ Eminem’s homeys dying in the hospital with all o’ the acting props o’ a 12-year-ol’ school play & plenty o’ poorly-hidden green-screening. My favorite part is when Eminem suddenly tosses a food cart o’er while in the hospital waiting room, presumably with rage, but he has the dullest o’ expressions on his face.

Grade: D

6. Mosh

I think Eminem fans also genuinely like this song, which shows how easy they are to impress, given that there were many, many better antiwar songs by rock bands like System of a Down. The beat & rap meter are so stock, the political commentary is rudimentary, the 1st verse goes into a weird tangent ’bout Eminem’s achievements for some reason, &, worst o’ all, it tries to make this cringe comparison ’tween moshing — a type o’ dancing — & protesting. & it’s not like Eminem couldn’t do good political songs: “White America” is a great mockery o’ the hypocrisy o’ conservatives criticizing him, dripping with the thickest o’ irony. But the problem is that this song is 100% serious & genuine, & I can’t take seriously the idea that The Real Slim Shady is going to lead his listeners into dancing the bad politics ’way. People call stuff like American Idiot or Muse’s weird cyberpunk album or e’en some people consider Rage Against the Machine cringe, but none o’ them e’er made songs ’bout revolutionary dancing. All I can say is, for someone notorious for his very, very naughty homophobic language, Eminem sure made the gayest political song e’er, & it’s not e’en ’bout gay rights. ¿Where was the outrage @ that injustice?

Grade: F

Music Video

Congrats to the 15-year-ol’ Newgrounds animator for their great work on the animated parts. Honestly, I kinda like how weird this music video looks with its tacky blend o’ different animation styles & live action, e’en with the cliché conspiracy theory stuff ’bout Bin Laden being fake or the weirdly irrelevant tangent that isn’t in the song @ all ’bout racist police.

Grade: 🕺

7. Puke

All right, now here’s the kind o’ stuff I want to listen to: a goofy-ass song that starts with the sound o’ puking where Eminem drunkenly wails ’bout his bitch ex, with plenty o’ elongated line-ending syllables & off-key falsetto. I think my favorite line is the 1 where he ends a line early with “instead of a letter that you’d probably just shred up”, & then fills in the remaining space by just going, “yead-dah”. Genius claims he’s saying “yeah”, but that’s complete bullshit: he’s saying, “yead-dah”.

Honestly, tho, some o’ these lines are kinda metal, like the part where he just goes off on his ex, calling her a “fucking cokehead slut” & saying he hopes she goes to hell & that “Satan sticks a needle in your eye”. If only the average post-grunge “my ex is a bitch” song from the likes o’ Theory of a Dead Man or Puddle of Mudd had this much spiteful energy, they’d… well, they’d still suck, but a li’l less. E’en funnier, Eminem follows these hateful lines with, “but please don’t get me wrong, I’m not bitter or mad”. Whether Eminem is in on the joke or not, I don’t care.

E’en the stomp-clap beat with the heavy bass is pretty catchy.

What I’m saying is, I actually kind o’ like this song, tho I’m not sure I could e’en decide on a real critical grade for it, so we get the obvious grade:

Grade: 🤮

8. My 1st Single

This song is a shitpost: the chorus is Eminem basically saying, “lol, I made a shitty song”, while burping in the background while the most horrendous clickity-clack beat plays on endlessly while in the verses Eminem sputters absolutely nonsense — e’en by his standards. ¿E’er wanted to hear the riveting story ’bout Eric waking from swallowing generic-brand sleeping pills to find that he had gay sex with his best friend, Derrick? ¿Who’s Eric & Derrick? Fuck if I know. ¿Want to hear ’bout a fictional sex tape o’ underage Britney Spears & Justin Timberlake while they were Mouseketeers in the Mickey Mouse Club? ¿No? Well, fuck you, that’s what you get. I guess you could say the verses’s lyrics are somewhat imaginative. But there are much better shitposts on this album, already. This is nearer to “Evil Deeds” in terms o’ lack o’ effort.

Grade: F

9. Paul (Skit)

O’ all the skits revolving round Eminem’s manager, Paul Rosenberg, this is 1 o’ the least inspired. Yes, Eminem, you’re really edgy & dangerous for making the same jokes ’bout Michael Jackson that e’eryone else was doing @ the time.

Grade: D

10. Rain Man

Here’s a much better shitpost, especially with the weirdly catchy chorus, “’cause I ain’t got no leeeegs / or no braaaaain / niice to meet you / hiii, my name is… / i forgot my naaaaame”, only to pause after trying to say his new name & to say in a very quiet, monotone voice, “Rain Man”. In this case the song is less ’bout Eminem intentionally making a bad song & mo’ implying that Eminem’s too mentally retarded to make a good song, which, given the effects the drugs were having on his brain @ this point, was probably somewhat true. I find the line, “i just did a whole song & i didn’t say shit” ironic, as he says mo’ in this song than “Evil Deeds” or “My 1st Single”: we get to learn that Eminem was the 1 who killed Superman by putting him next to Darth Vader & we get to learn the complex intricacies o’ what is & is not gay sex on the 2nd verse from him & his friend, Dr. Dre.

Grade: 🌧️👱‍♂️

11. Big Weenie

¡Here we go! ¡The best song on the album! This song is essentially a parody o’ what all diss tracks are: claiming one’s “weenie” is bigger than their opponent, with the ’bout the same essential maturity o’ this song’s chorus:

you’re just jealous of me ’cause you, you just can’t do what i do
so instead of just admitting it you walk around & say
all kinds of really mean things about me
’cause you’re a meanie, a meanie
but it’s only ’cause you’re just really jealous of me
’cause i’m what you want to be, so you just look like an idiot
when you say these mean things, ’cause it’s too easy to see
you’re really just a big weenie, a big weenie

Interspersed ’tween these choruses are absurdist verses wherein the protagonist tries to investigate why the addressee is being so “mean” to the protagonist. This includes putting sunglasses on a frog & asking the addressee what they have in common. The answer to this brilliant riddle is that they’re both “green with envy & look like idiots with sunglasses on ’em”, which ’course made the sunglasses completely irrelevant. Squeezed into this song’s short 3 verses are further gems o’ brilliance: for instance, we get the deep philosophical musing: “¿now why did they make Yoo-hoo?”, only for Eminem to reveal the absurdity o’ such an assumption that there is a why to anything with the following nonsequitor, “pippity-kaka poo-poo”: food exists purely to come back out as feces. Such is the frivolous cycle o’ existence in which we find ourselves trapped. & we can’t forget the profound moral @ the end o’ this song: “that if you say mean things, the weenie will shrink”.

We also get a poetic description o’ just how much bigger Eminem’s weenie is than our unnamed addressee’s: “mine is like sticking a banana between 2 oranges”, somehow rhyming the infamously rhymeless “oranges” with “yours is”, “doing this”, & “pointless”, thanks to Eminem’s weird accent. ( We get similar bizarre rhymes in verse 2 with “booth all day”, “truth, OK”, & “tooth decay” as Em smoothly transitions from bragging ’bout his rapping prowess to pointing out his rap opponents bad dental hygiene ).

People like to portray this song as an attempted ( & failed ) diss track gainst Benzino, but given how self-deprecating this song is, I doubt it. @ the beginning o’ the 2nd verse Em flubs in the middle o’ the 1st line, only to stutter out in the tone o’ someone clearly bullshitting that, “that’s just what you wanted to hear is that i fucked up, ¿ain’t it? that i can’t bust 1 take without looking @ no paper”. & in the middle o’ verse 3 we get the line, “you look like i sound like singing ’bout weenies”.

’Hind this whole song is an absurdly dramatic & repetitive pounding beat & chord. But as a garnish @ the end, after the final chorus Eminem mutters, “fuck off my dick”, followed by some weird monster voice sounding like it’s crying. Truly this is art.

Grade: S

12. Em Calls Paul (Skit)

This is just the previous Paul skit, but from Eminem’s point o’ view, & with the weird voice effect Em uses when he’s playing as “Christopher Reeves”, for some reason.

13. Just Lose It

This song’s mo’ annoying than funny, & is the most dated on this album, revolving round the same jokes ’bout Michael Jackson that e’eryone’s already made by now, as well as some other pop culture references — many o’ which were already dated back then, like the random references to Pee-Wee Herman — & some randomly thrown in potty humor, none o’ which has any connection to any part o’ the song like in Em’s magnum opus “Big Weenie”, for flavor.

I think what’s most absurd & dated ’bout this song, that strangely nobody seems to mention, is in the chorus, where Eminem makes a joke ’bout saying, “yeah, boy, shake that ass — oops, I mean girl”, & then in the music video it shows a li’l boy being replaced by a li’l girl shaking her ass. Only in the early 2000s could someone imply that paedophilia is only bad when gay without becoming a source o’ ridicule.

Also, the juicy synth beats are gross to listen to.

Grade: F

Music Video

If you ignore the terrible music, the music video is actually pretty good. It actually goes into greater depth on the Michael Jackson mockery, making fun o’ him getting his hair set on fire, as well as all the flashy costumes he & other artists like MC Hammer had. I think this would’ve worked better if the references were just left as visuals & the song, I dunno, focused more on the absurdity o’ Eminem’s fame in comparison.

Grade: A

14. Ass Like That

& then we get the tragic tale o’ a racist Indian stereotype possessed by a dog puppet being hassled by the police just ’cause he popped a boner in the movie theater while watching some movie stars he finds attractive, some o’ which are underage. ’Twas brave o’ Eminem to use his platform to speak out on this lesser-known example o’ police brutality gainst minorities. While ridiculously racist, I have to admit the fake Indian sitar music with the deep bass is catchy, as well as the ridiculously childish, “¡da-doing doing doooing!” @ the end o’ each line o’ the chorus.

Genius calls this “what many consider to be a low point in Eminem’s career”, but I refuse to believe this song is worse than “Just Lose It”: “Just Lose It” is a song anyone could make in a few seconds; its jokes are all stock, & it’s somehow e’en mo’ paedophilic. While this song may not be good or well-written or e’en funny, it’s the kind o’ bizarre concept that nobody else could come up with, & I have to give it credit for that.

Grade: Da-Doing Doing Doing

Music Video

You can’t say the music video wasn’t well-made, given the source material, especially with the opening scene where Eminem fights with a dog puppet ’cause it insulted him, that explains how this all happened. I particularly want to highlight the use o’ puppets for when Eminem is possessed by the dog & the goofy way it parodies ass anthems o’ the time with all the women in the background shaking their ass whole Eminem’s in front playing with a slinky.

Grade: A

15. Spend Some Time (feat. Obie Trice, Stat Quo, 50 Cent)

I love how after a string o’ intentionally absurd songs, we get this song that tries to be serious, but is e’en mo’ absurd because o’ that. After some terrible, off-key singing from Em, trying to speak from the heart ’bout heartbreak, only to kill any chances o’ me taking this song seriously with the 1st line, “if there’s any bitches in this room”. His guest features don’t help: Obie Trice starts his verse with the Shakespearean lines, “I never woulda thought that I’d see you outta control / even though my penis was deep down in your hole”. This is immediately followed by Obie Trice being so desperate to find a rhyme with the poetic word, “hoes”, that he mangles the term “soulmates” into the awkward, “mates of soul”.

His verse is then followed with somehow e’en worse singing from Eminem, with his voice twisting highly in a particularly annoying way on the rhymes “mine” & “right”, but this time Em is accompanied by a woman with the most hilariously high-pitched voice in the world, as if this woman sucked a whole balloon o’ helium.

& then, in stark contrast to Em trying too hard to sing, we get Em barely e’en trying to rap, with many lines seeming to not e’en rhyme, which is kinda what he’s s’posed to be good @: the 1st 4 lines end with “before”, “truly are”, “daughters”, & “drawers” — &, no, e’en Em’s weird accent can’t contort those into rhymes.

I love how the 2nd chorus with its tragic singing is interrupted by Stat Quo laughing out, “ha ha, yeah right, bitch / spend some time on my dick”.

& the last verse has 50 Cent being terrible @ flirting with women, with such suave lines as “you have very nice lips”, but somehow getting the woman anyway.

Forget “Ass Like That”, “Big Weenie”, or “Rain Man”: o’ all the songs on this album, that this song exists is the most baffling — which is probably why nobody remembers or talks ’bout it. Eminem is the kind o’ rapper where him singing a serious song ’bout heartbreak is mo’ baffling than him singing a song ’bout jerkin’ it in a movie theater.

Grade: F

16. Mockingbird

This song is just as lazy as the rest, but because it’s ’bout his daughter fans eat it up. Eminem is less rapping than mumbling thruout the song, barely rhyming, — which, again, is kinda what he’s s’posed to be good @ — & the main beat is the most cliché nursery rhyme music. On the plus side, Em’s singing on the chorus is pretty all right, as opposed to the rest o’ this album. The final chorus with the intensity @ the end is high & above the best part o’ the song & the only time Eminem does something serious well on this whole album.

If anything, this song is the biggest wasted potential on this album &, really, the biggest casualty o’ Em’s drug-induced state: as far as I’m concerned, any song worth remembering on this album up to this point is only worth remembering ’cause it’s a drug-induced fever dream; this is the 1st song that would’ve benefited from being made by a sober mind & polished into a real song. Whereas most o’ the other songs are just random bullshit, this song’s lyrics are saying something, but are basically just typed out prose that needed to be revised into an actual song structure. O well. I guess @ the same time you could say this attempt @ serious self-reflection while under the grips o’ drugs is interesting in itself.

Grade: D

Music Video

The decision to use home videos certainly fits this song. Honestly, the footage is mo’ interesting than the song itself. Hope none o’ the people in this footage — if it’s real footage & not staged with actors — are too embarrassed by it now.

Grade: B

17. Crazy in Love

I feel like it’s blasphemy for Eminem to blend the music & chorus from 1 o’ the biggest hits from 1 o’ the greatest women-led rock bands, Heart, with more o’ his mumbling misogynist rants ’bout his bitch ex who he, ne’ertheless, is still in love with. Let’s face it: this is a fucking Theory of a Dead Man song, but rapped — it’s “divorced dad rap”. I don’t want to hear Eminem clumsily compare his toxic relationship with someone else — where he sweetly croons, “you let me beat the shit out of you before you beat the shit out of me” — with… ¿his relationship with Dre? ¿Are they gay lovers? ¿Eminem’s daughter, Alaina’s, relationship with Hailey, her ( nonbiological, yes ) sister? OK, I don’t e’en want to continue with this line o’ thought. People complain ’bout the goofy, dumb songs on this album, which were clearly muddled by the drugs, but I would say those were mo’ harmless & less embarrassing than when Em tries to talk ’bout his serious life problems & it gets muddled by the drugs. It’s like the difference ’tween being round a zany drunk who spews goofy conspiracy theories or just says whacked-out shit & being round a morose drunk who mumbles ’bout some tragedy that befell them in muddled nonsense: the latter isn’t funny; it’s just awkward & depressing. I don’t e’en feel like I should have the right to listen to this song — like I’ve stolen Eminem’s personal diary.

In any case, I’d much rather just listen to “Crazy on You” by just Heart themselves.

Grade: F

18. One Shot 2 Shot

¿Why is the “1” spelled out, but not the “2”? You know, people blame Eminem for being whacked out, ¿but where was the quality control from all the producers round him, who were presumably mo’ sober? ¿You’re telling me Paul Rosenberg complained ’bout outraging Michael Jackson, but didn’t notice this obvious blunder?

Anyway, this song is the riveting story o’ Eminem’s rap group, D12, being caught in the middle o’ a shootout narrated in the least interesting way possible, with repeatedly exclamations o’ the general variety o’, “¡Holy shit! ¡This is crazy!”, mixed with needless details o’ what street so & so is on. We ne’er e’en find out why this shootout happens & it ends anticlimactically on the very last line with Proof just shooting someone in the knee — ¡which wouldn’t e’en be fatal!

The beat on this song, while repetitive & bland, is actually 1 o’ the better 1s on this generally musically sterile album; but the chorus is just annoying & goofy. Eminem sounds like he’s in a Dr. Seuss book the way he childishly counts off the gunshots, as well as with goofy euphemistic lines like, “this is where the fun stops”, which is hurt further by the sing-songy bouncy music. This is like the least gangster song ’bout a shootout e’er.

Grade: D

19. Final Thought (Skit)

A nice climactic build-up. Honestly, the o’erarching story o’ Eminem going on stage with a gun hidden ’hind his back & ending his show by blowing his brains out is the most interesting part o’ this album.

Grade: A

20. Encore / Curtains Down

This is a fun song, & a good swan song to this album & to what we might call an entire era o’ Eminem’s music. It’s hands-down the best unironic song on this album; & yet it’s nowhere near the greatness o’ the surrealist lyricism o’ classics like “Role Model” or the force o’ the bitter sarcasm o’ gems like “Marshall Mathers” — or any song off The Marshall Mathers LP, for that matter. I will almost certainly forget e’ery generic gangster rap line on this song. ¿Wasn’t Eminem liked specifically ’cause he was an alternative from the generic gangster rappers who flooded the 2000s?

Grade: C

Conclusion

This album is a mess, with 1 thing consistent thruout: sloppiness & just throwing shit @ the wall & seeing what sticks. I will go to my grave insisting that the “worst” parts o’ the album — the goofiest — are the best in that they are a’least fascinatingly bad, while the rest is all forgettable & mediocre.

FInal Grade: D

Yes, this is a real album. It is, in fact, their 1st e’er album, an EP released 6 whole years before their big LP debut, Infest. Whereas that album was clearly inspired by Rage Against the Machine, this album sounds like it’s aping, o’ all bands, Primus, with that twangy slap bass. As a young fan who for some reason loved Papa Roach so much that I sought out any record I could, I was baffled when I listened to this & heard not the angsty, dark metal to which I was accustomed, but a band plucking a guitar & babbling ’bout aborting babies. Having widened my rock palate & with my greater understanding o’ the early 90s funk metal scene with surreal bands like Mr. Bugle, Red Hot Chili Peppers, & the aforementioned Primus, — as well as early Incubus, which as I mentioned in an earlier review, also surprised me by how different it was from their later softer sound — such surprise has evaporated.

But while my younger self was confused, my present self is pleased, for such an absurd album makes a perfect candidate for Nostalgic Novelty Noughties 90s Nu-Metal.

1. Coffee Thoughts

For some reason this is misspelled “Cofee Thoughts” on YouTube Music; but it’s spelled correctly on the album cover & e’erywhere else I looked, so I’m not blaming this on Papa Roach themselves for making this mistake, but their label — & the capitalist system o’ production — for presumably hiring an intern paid with “exposure“, who thus is not paid nearly well ’nough to care ’bout properly spelling the name o’ an ol’ obscure Papa Roach song that nobody else but me is listening to when dumping it onto YouTube for a few extra ad $s.

Anyway, this album, fittingly, starts with a song ’bout coffee, which is always the best part o’ waking up. I like how this song starts with ominous clanking riffs that almost sound like an alarm going off, only for the band to give up on that & start plucking their guitars wildly. This album is fascinating in that it demonstrates a band so young they haven’t learned the bare basics o’ song composition, with these “songs” sounding less like actual songs with melodies, rhythm, or themes, & mo’ just screwing round with instruments & babbling silly nonsense o’er it. I compared this to Primus, but actually paying closer attention makes me better appreciate how despite how crazy & seemingly random Primus are, they still actually composed songs with structure & melodies.

& yet I kinda prefer this song’s lyricism to Papa Roach’s usual fare. If anything, it’s mo’ baffling that a band that early on could start a song with lines like, “my coffee stain is turned down / i sit & watch it burn no longer”, which is a perfect balance o’ being surreal ’nough to not be clear what it means, but give ’nough information & imagery to inspire some kind o’ metaphor, only to later on write bland angst like, “I AM ON A BINGE / I WISH THINGS WOULD CHANGE / WISH THEY’D REARRANGE / I’M ON A BIIIINGE”. I mean, ¿where else can you hear someone describe the Folgers founder as “a roasting soldier” or have a chorus that starts with, “¡Here comes the coffee man!”.

My 1 complaint is that according to the lyrics on Genius.com, the end o’ the chorus says “It’ll clean out your ears”, when I always ( faintly, thru the production that is just as seeping with mud as the coffee they describe ) heard “it’ll clean out your innards”, which I think is a better line. In fact, I still think I’m the 1 who’s right: 1, I still hear “innards”; 2, “clean out your ears” makes no sense: coffee accelerates digestion; it doesn’t go anywhere near your ears, unless you’re drinking it wrong. @ the risk o’ creating a violent schism, I must proclaim Genius.com to be wrong.

Honestly, despite this song’s obvious lack o’ technical quality, it’s still a fun song with fun lyrics & fun funky slap bass.

Grade: ☕

2. Mama’s Dress

This song is ’bout a young man struggling gainst their deepest transvestite desires, with the chorus, where Coby Dick — Mr. Dick, if you’re nasty, you’ll recall — frantically shouts, “¡I WOULDN’T WEAR! ¿WHO WOULDN’T WEAR? ¡SHE DIDN’T WEAR… MAMA’S DRESS!”, which, like Hemingway, says so much in so li’l: note how ’mong the 1st 2 sentences the protagonist goes back & forth from proclaiming that he would ne’er wear a mother’s dress to asking why one wouldn’t want to wear a mother’s dress: ¿why in our modern age do men still enslave themselves to the gendered rituals o’ segregated clothing decades after women had already freed themselves to wear trousers & T-shirts? & as a proud transvestite myself, I resonate with this song — ’cept I wear cute plaid skirts, not lame-ass mothers gowns from the 50s, which is maybe the real reason the protagonist wouldn’t wear it.

But then in the 3rd sentence we stealthily see the male protagonist become a “she”, hinting that what seems to be a mere interest in women’s apparel may be a full-fledged questioning o’ the protagonist’s gender. Thank you all for listening to my LGBTQ+ feminist analysis o’ Papa Roach.

Also, “tampax cheese-whiz” is a crazy phrase I’d ne’er expect in a Papa Roach song.

Grade: 🏳️‍⚧️

3. Lenny’s

This is a fun song with a catchy chorus, but it’s surprisingly e’en less coherent than the previous songs — tho I do like how this song continues from the last song, with the protagonist shouting for “the gown”, which is presumably the mama’s dress. Outside o’ that, this song seems to bounce ’tween 2 different perspectives thruout: the protagonist — who apparently goes by the name “wants the combo”, if the line “me llamo wants the combo” is any indication — complaining ’bout the prices & threatening to go to this mysterious place only known as Lenny’s — ¿or is is Denny’s? — &… no, wait, I just realized it’s the person ordering telling the person they’re ordering from, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave”, followed closely after with, “& yes I’d like to order”, e’en tho that’s backward. Ne’er mind: it’s just 1 person, just 1 crazy ’nough to reverse roles with the staff for an instant.

As any work o’ sublime art, the composer ne’er tells us what this “Lenny’s” place is or take place there; contrariwise, the place the protagonist is actually in is ne’er named. The listener is left to imagine it for themselves, for it is not a literal place, but a representation o’ heaven, o’ paradise, an escape from the burden o’ a reality where we are stuck in restaurants with o’erpriced food. Now that fast food places like McDonald’s are steeply raising their prices, this song is only mo’ relevant.

But while Lenny’s may be a protest gainst this unjust reality, the protagonist ne’er goes there, only dreaming o’ it. @ the end o’ the chorus, a voice asks, “¿why do trees have green leaves?”, 1 o’ the few to question the seemingly iron laws o’ reality. But that voice apparently realized how dangerous this kind o’ rebellion is, for immediately after, they say, “i don’t know why, but i’ll eat my peas, yeah”, sitting back down & acquiescing to the reality outside o’ this mystical Lenny’s they feel powerless to fight.

Grade: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

4. Lulu Espidachi

I love how Jacoby Shaddix’s — or “Jacoby Shaddox”, as it is weirdly misspelled on the album cover — singing is so incoherent that e’en Genius.com gave up trying to transcribe it @ a few parts, just leaving question marks — leaving us “findin’ nothin’ but questions & devils”, as Coby had proclaimed in “Last Resort”. Looking up “Espidachi” only shows results revolving round this obscure song, so I’m assuming it’s a surname Papa Roach made up. I believe this song is ’bout an ol’ woman knocking on the protagonist’s door & pestering him asking if he’d like to buy some bananas, which irritates the protagonist & leads him to wonder if “it’s time to buy that sign” — presumably a “no solicitors” sign, a wry social commentary on how door-to-door salesmen only seem to succeed @ encouraging the sales of other wares from somewhere else to deal with them.

But if we mistake this song as a simple relatable story ’bout the travails o’ the e’eryman dealing with annoying solicitors, we would miss a vital piece o’ the puzzle o’ this album’s arc: for subtly slipped into the middle o’ this song is the reveal that the protagonist’s anxiety comes not from having to deal with a salesperson, but being reminded o’ her gender dysphoria by having these phallic bananas shoved into her face, leading her to ask the seemingly out-o’-nowhere question, “¿what do i look like? ¿a freakin’ hermaphrodite?”. Hidden within this mask o’ a silly tale ’bout annoying solicitors is the real story o’ a trans woman’s gender dysphoria leading to social alienation.

Grade: 🪧

5. Cheez-Z-Fux

& yet our protagonist forces herself into the public & tries to drown out her anxieties with red hot capitalist consumption by going to the club. Here we see that our lesbian trans woman’s gender dysphoria has grown to an outright disgust with all things male, with her view o’ the feminine “butterfly colors” seemingly ruined when she next sees what is mo’ an absurd caricature o’ a man:

he’s got gold chains & hair chest
he’s making me sick in his saturday night best

Instead, she turns her attention to a woman she calls “sweetcakes”, on whom she tries corny, cliché pickup lines, like asking her her sign & telling her she was “made in heaven”. Near the end, as if parallel to the beginning description o’ the man who made her sick, we see a much different description o’ this woman:

then he saw the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen:
that wide-brimmed hat, that fake pink fur coat,
& those fishnet stockings

& then @ the end the protagonist’s feeling o’ being alone are evaporated when it is revealed to her that this woman is a pimp just like her, making her realize that her newfound womanhood would not interfere with her career.

Grade:

6. I Love Babies

This is the song I mainly remember: an edgy song whose chorus goes, “a-bort-a a-bort-a a-bort-a a-bort-a, NO MORE BABIES”, the “abort” part sung with all the eloquence o’ a braying goat. I won’t e’en pretend to know what the rest o’ this song is ’bout, specially the line, “call me a little jew, me & you, a cup or 2”. Since the protagonist is talking ’bout masturbating, my best guess is it’s a riff on circumcision. What I do know is that the line, “gotta like your dick, gotta like your dick, gotta like your dick”, is the protagonist struggling with her gender mo’.

Wait, no… No, this song isn’t an edgy song ’bout aborting all babies: it’s just ’bout masturbation, with the “spilled seed”, to speak Biblically, being like aborted babies. Not gonna lie: the edgy song ’bout abortion just being a lame metaphor for jerking off is very disappointing, like discovering that someone you once looked up to wasn’t as great as you thought they were. I guess that’s not unlike my general experience o’ growing out o’ Papa Roach & sharpening my palate on mo’ artistic, cerebral music outside the mainstream, like Swans or Breaking Benjamin.

Grade: 😔

7. Dendrilopis

I think this is s’posed to be a parody o’ early Beastie Boys, with 3 boy voices rap-shouting o’er each other o’er cheap beats — very different from the rest o’ this album. I have no idea why this is here — but then I could say that ’bout e’erything on this album. Searching “dendrilopis” just gives results for this song, so it’s ’nother word Papa Roach made up. I’m guessing it’s a mishmash o’ dendrite, which take in senses to nerves; tendril, a plant appendage; & metropolis. So it’s ’bout aroused wood cock, just like the lyrics, talking ’bout woodpeckers. Truly Mr. Coby Dick has lived up to his rap name on this album. Perhaps by this point our protagonist has learned to love her womanhood & having a penis — a “gock”, as the hip kids now say. Truly this album was ahead o’ its time — well, ’cept for the weak parody to 80s Beastie Boys: that’s aged ’bout as well as that time 1 o’ the Ramones tried to rap.

Grade: 🪵

Conclusion

This is 1 o’ those albums where taking a closer examination was a bad idea. Yes, I am still bummed out ’bout “I Love Babies”. Some music was meant to just be a vibe, as the hip kids now say, & not be delved into too deeply for risk o’ learning o’ things that may sour the experience; & the band who wrote such lyrics as, “¿what’s the deal, girl? / tearing up each other’s world / we should be in harmony, boy & girl”, is a prime example. O well: a’least we got to experience a beautiful tale ’bout a trans woman’s journey thru gender dyphoria that I didn’t completely make up in a desperate attempt to make sense o’ nonsense gibberish lyrics. Also, “Coffee Thoughts” & “Lenny’s” are legit bops.

Final Grade: 🥔🎄

¿Would you believe me if I said that St. Anger was the 1st Metallica album I’d e’er listened to. I liked it @ the time, — & still do — but I do remember thinking to myself while listening to it, { ¿This is the legendary Metallica? }. It wouldn’t be till I heard “Fade to Black” on the radio that I understood why this band was respected. Still, while obviously not as good as classics like Ride the Lightning, Master of Puppets, or their self-titled “Black Album”, St. Anger had potential, especially as the 1st album wherein they returned to metal — albeit, a nu-metal-like sound — after their weird hard rock detour in the 90s; & I would still say it’s better than Reload, e’en if “Fuel” & “The Memory Remains” ( a’least the latter’s music video, where James Hetfield keeps trying to chew the screen off, he’s mugging so much ) are themselves cheesy classics.

St. Anger had a punk, grungy, low-fi, garage rock sound, amplified by those “trash can lid” drums, that could have worked if they didn’t make these songs have the same lengths as their mo’ prog-metal predecessors from the 80s. Prog metal can have songs 8 minutes long ’cause they have many compositional variations; St. Anger doesn’t &, in tune with most nu-metal, lacked guitar solos, so its songs sounded repetitive. There’s a reason punk bands usually have short songs; & there’s a reason why fan remixes that try to improve this album usually shorten the songs.

Still, e’en with these flaws there’s 1 thing St. Anger has that no other Metallica album has to the same degree: its sheer level o’ silly cheese; & that is what we look for in Nostalgic Novelty Noughties Nu-Metal.

1. Frantic

This is 1 o’ the few songs the band still plays @ live shows & is still proud o’; luckily, that doesn’t mean it loses any cheesy charm, with that classic introduction to Lars Ulrich’s iconic trash can lid drums & then James Hetfield singing in the monotone voice o’ a gruff robot, “IF I COULD HAVE MY WASTED DAYS BACK… WOULD I USE THEM… TO… GET BACK… ON… TRACK”, followed by a refrain where he repeats in a goblin voice, “MY LIFESTYLE… DETERMINES MY DEATHSTYLE”, & then later, “FRANTIC TICK, TICK, TICK, TICK, TICK, ¡TOCK!”, all so hammily sung.

Despite how cheesy this song is, I do have to note that the chorus, where Hetfield sings in a much smoother voice, while jazzy guitar riffs play, does sound genuinely nice; & it’s not as if the silly parts o’ this song don’t fit the desperate, insane vibe this song’s going for, representing the sentiments o’ a man who thinks his end is coming @ any moment.

Grade: S

Music Video

¿Could one ask for anything mo’ from this music video? It’s a bunch o’ flashing images o’ someone crashing their car into shit in some suburban wasteland; the band jamming in front o’ scraggly, leafless boughs on what looks like a gray day in late autumn / winter ( perfect for the time I’m publishing this review ); some bearded guy drinking many shots o’ alcohol, & a close up o’ an analog clock ticking down the tick-tocks Hetfield keeps shouting ’bout to remind you that, yes, this is a song ’bout time.

Grade: ⏱️

2. St. Anger

Another classic, with such repeatable cheesy lines as the opening, “St. Anger round my neck / He never gets respect” & “I’M MADLY IN ANGER WITH YOU”. Tho, I think the funniest are the following:

I feel my world shake
like an earthquake

Those are literally synonyms: yes, your world shaking feels like the earth quaking ’cause your world is earth & shaking is quaking. That’s like singing the line, “I feel cold / like sensing something chilly”.

As iconic as this song is with its memorable lines & riffs, it is a victim o’ the problem I mentioned in the intro o’ being too long & repetitive. Also, you have outright boring parts, like the bridge, with boring basic playing & lines that feel rhythmless, repetitive, off-key, & unmemorable.

Grade: B

Music Video

This music video shows Metallica being such badasses as to play before a prison e’en after the security warns them that they ain’t doin’ shit if the inmates grab 1 o’ them & tries using them as a hostage, while also showing mo’ ’bout the lives o’ 4 inmates, which I guess is meant to humanize them — tho these scenes are so brief, it feels very vague. It’s a cool idea & I guess it fits with the theme o’ the inmates having anger managements issues that led them to prison.

Grade: B

3. Some Kind of Monster

This song starts with another iconic riff, 1st starting muffled & low, then breaking out in full with drums, & then adding jazzy variations on top.

Unfortunately, the lyrics aren’t nearly as memorable: the verses are just a stream o’ “This is the [noun] that [verb] you [modifier]”, while the noun asks, “¿Are we the people… SOME KIND OF MONSTEEEERRRR”. See, it’s saying something ’bout human nature, or something. I do kind o’ like the different ways Hetfield sings speaks the verse lines, but not so much the chorus, where he sometimes says “weeee the peopleeeee” with voice cracks. The song does end with some daemonic chant o’, “OMINOUS, I’M IN US”, which is pretty fun.

Then, if we the listeners, weren’t laughing yet, right @ the end the music suddenly breaks down to some goofy, squeaky riff while Ulrich just randomly bangs his drums. I have no idea why.

Grade: B

Music Video

This song’s music video is basically a trailer for their documentary named after this very song. It seems to reframe the song as being ’bout Metallica’s legacy & how they struggle to maintain it… which only makes the “¿Are we the people…?” bit all the mo’ jarring & ill-fitting. O well: the scenes o’ the band silently berating Ulrich’s experimental drumming is funny if you saw the scene in the movie.

Grade: B

4. Dirty Window

An underrated gem. ’Bove a stanky downtuned riff ( ¿have I mentioned how much I love downtuned guitars? ) the 1st verse ends with the amazing line in falsetto, “¡This house is cleeean, babe; this house is cleeean!”; & then above tribal thumping Hetfield slowly grunts out, “I. LOOK. OUT. MY. WINDOW. &. SEE. WHAT’S. GONE. WRONG… COURT. IS. IN. SESSION. &. I… SLAM… MY… GA-VEL… DOWN…”; then we get this jazzy riff with some clickity drum petals while Hetfield croons out & the smarmiest way, “I’m judgin’, I’m jury, & I’m executioner too”, just before the thumping drums come back & Hetfield just starts shouting out random words that end with “or”… ’Cept he apparently couldn’t think o’ too many words, since he had to repeat a few multiple times:

PROJECTOR. PROTECTOR.
REJECTOR. INFECTOR.
PROJECTOR. REJECTOR.
INFECTOR, INJECTOR, DEFECTOR, REJECTOR…

Then the song ends with clones o’ Hetfield chanting in tandem, “I… I…” while Hetfield, his voice cracking again, talks ’bout drinking from the “cup of denial” & “judging the world from my throne”.

This song is clearly ’bout judgmental hypocrites who put themselves ’bove others, but with much mo’, um, colorful way o’ expressing this common idea, most notable the metaphor on which this song is titled, “this window clean inside, dirty on the out” ( Hetfield’s performance for that line is genuinely great ). But according to Genius, this song is ’bout Hetfield’s alcoholism &… either how he thinks he’s healthy now that he’s sober, but people can still see him as scarred by his alcoholism, or that he’s deluded ’bout being sober @ all, still drinking from that “cup of denial”. That’s certainly a different way o’ thinking ’bout the common problem o’ alcoholism — so much so that I ne’er considered this song might be ’bout alcoholism, e’en tho I knew Hetfield’s angst o’er his struggle to get clean before & during the making o’ this album heavily inspired this album’s production for years. I’m going to admit, unless Hetfield himself said this song was ’bout his struggles with alcoholism, I’m skeptical & think this might be fans assuming the context they know the most was ’hind this album is ’hind e’ery song, like how people assume e’ery Linkin Park song is ’bout suicide after Chester Benington’s suicide. I don’t remember him saying so in the documentary, where they talked ’bout the writing o’ various songs ( I don’t remember them talking ’bout the writing o’ this song @ all, actually ).

Grade: A

5. Invisible Kid

Most people seem to think this is the worst song on this album, & possibly Metallica’s worst song e’er, & I can see why: it is hilariously inane, starting with these amazing lines, sung with complete hammitude:

INVISIBLE KID, NEVER SEEN WHAT HE DID
GOT STUCK WHERE HE HID, FALLING THRU THE GRID

Then, after 2 full verses o’ these grunted lines, Hetfield sings in a soulful voice, “i hide inside, i hurt inside, i hide inside, but i’ll show you…”, then in a ghostly voice, sings the chorus, saying the opposite, repeatedly saying he’s OK… & then the part just after has Hetfield grunt out, “OPEN YOUR HEART, I’M BEATING RIGHT HERE / OPEN YOUR MIND, I’M BEING RIGHT HERE”, followed by an e’en deeper voice grunting, “RIGHT NOW”. ’Hind all o’ these mood swings are the same repetitive drum clanging & chugging riffs.

Then we get to the bridge, where Hetfield, singing in he campiest way I think he’s e’er sung in his life, goes, “¡Oooooo! ¡What a goo-ood boy you are!”, & mo’, with each “¡Oooooo!” somehow getting e’en hammier. It is amazing. If you can’t get enjoyment from this, you have no soul.

It’s e’en funnier when you realize this song is just a laughably bad version o’ “The Unforgiven”, both having the same theme o’ a misunderstood child.

Grade: 👻🧒

6. My World

This song starts with 40 seconds o’ generic riffing before Hetfield out o’ nowhere cries out, “THE MOTHAFUCKAS GOT IN MY HEEAAAD”. After 1 mo’ line, we already get the prechorus, where Hetfield & his clones keep insisting, “It’s my wooorld… now”. If you’re being possessed by “motherfuckers” who are trying to make [you] someone else instead”, ¿is it really your world?

If that wasn’t silly, just listen to the bridge. Hetfield says in a comically deep, quiet voice, while o’erannunciating & pausing after nearly e’ery word, “not… ONly… do I NOT… know… the… answer…”, then starts shouting out, “¡I… DON’T… EVEN KNOW… WHAT… THE… QUESTION IS!”. Then, before the listener has time to adjust to whate’er the hell that was, Hetfield suddenly starts singing a different song, crying out in a high-pitched voice, “Gaaaaawd, it feels… like it only rains on meeee…”, repeated multiple times, sounding increasingly desperate each time & joined by his clones in the background… & then he goes back to the “not… ONly… do I NOT… know… the… answer…” part, only to end with a “¡Sucka!”, before chanting repeatedly, “Out of my head”, & then, “enough’s enough’s enough’s…” in an increasingly frantic voice.

I have a feeling “it’s my world now” is s’posed to be ironic &, in fact, the protagonist’s mental world is not in his control whatsoe’er & he is only trying desperately to insist it is.

Genius doesn’t e’en try to explain this song beyond saying that it hasn’t been played live e’er — presumably ’cause they’d bring on the straitjackets if they saw Hetfield singing these lines in person.

While this song has some o’ Metallica’s least-inspired music so far, I do like the way the riffs drone out, leaving the deep drumbeats & bass to shine thru, during the middle section’s chorus o’ Hetfield saying, “It’s my world, you can’t have it”.

Grade: fucking insane

7. Shoot Me Again

We have a verse where Hetfield wails spectrally, “I… won’t go away…”, followed by him in a deep voice shouting, “¡WITH A BULLET IN MAH BACK!” & a prechorus where he says in a deep but quiet cowboy voice, “SHOOT ME AGAIN, I AIN’T DEAD YET”. Later on he keeps repeating his demand to “SHOOT ME AGAIN” in an increasingly frantic tone. Then in the bridge he starts sputtering out nonsense:

WAKE THE SLEEPING GIANT, WAKE THE BEAST
WAKE THE SLEEPING DOG, NO, LET HIM SLEEP

If this were any other album, this would be its most deranged song; but this song had the misfortune o’ coming after “My World”. I do think this song sounds a bit better, with the deeper bass & drums & he haunting droning high riffs during the verses. Honestly, I think the guitar work on this album is a bit underrated: Kirk Hammett seems to be compensating for not being allowed to compose solos, like he would on classic albums, by experimenting with different tones.

Normally I would refuse to take seriously Genius’s claim that this song is ’bout Metallica’s angst @ the fucking Napster situation o’ all things. The lyrics make no hint to that subject & are just vague expressions o’ self-loathing. I would believe this song to be ’bout Hetfield’s alcoholism before that. Howe’er, if you watch the Some Kind of Monster documentary, it heavily implies this song is in fact inspired by Lars Ulrich’s angst o’er the backlash to the situation & how he for some reason thought edgy kids making exquisite flash animations making fun o’ them might nullify e’erything they’d done.

Also, this is not related to this song, but I want to also note that said documentary also has, I shit you not, a very dramatic scene where Ulrich feels torn o’er what was clearly his wife’s idea to sell his modern art paintings for millions, with him acting as if he was responsible for these paintings by… admiring them, not artists like Basquiat. That’s not e’en 1st-world problems: that’s 1% problems.

Grade: B

8. Sweet Amber

This 1 seems to be a fan favorite, & for good reason: those jazzy guitar twinkles @ the beginning followed by he grungy riffs, twanging bass notes, & thumping trash can drums are excellent, followed by Hetfield’s catchy sarcastic crooning ’bout the corruption o’ the music industry, making them do promos for radio stations to get their songs played, & Hetfield’s addiction to “sweet amber” — alcohol, to which he serenades in the chorus, saying li’l mo’ than, “Ooo, Sweet Amber… ¿how sweet are you?”.

This song’s much better composed: “Wash your back so you won’t stab mine / get in bed with your own kind” are legitimately good lyrics, — memorable but make perfect sense — as are, “she holds my hand… & I lie to get a smile” & the ironic childlike lyrics in the 2nd verse, using creative imagery o’ catching rabbits & fetching sticks to represent drug addiction, with “rolls me over until I’m sick” relating to both a playful dog & a hangover. I’m honestly kind o’ glad we got to a legitimately good song @ this point, as I was fearful after “Shoot Me Again” that we’d get too many similarly insane songs back to back & it would lose its luster.

Grade: A

9. The Unnamed Feeling

OK, but this is actually the legitimately best song on this album, with that opening noisy riff followed by such dark basslines. After work from my 1st job as a “liquor pusher” for an airplane catering company, a nightshift job where I would end my shift from 12 to 4 AM, when I would walk home thru a gray tunnel — the same tunnel I used to have as this website’s hero image, but changed, since ’twas a low-quality photo from my grandma’s ol’ cheap camera — I would love playing this song, as it perfectly fit the mood o’ an oily, dark sewerlike tunnel.

The singing is also great. Whereas the flaws in Hetfield’s attempts to sing beyond the limits to which he kept himself in earlier records generally led to great bathos in earlier songs, here his voice creaking from singing too high & the lack o’ rhythm in the verses gives a genuinely unnerving tone, especially o’er the noisy, chaotic riffs, especially followed by the desperate whispers repeating, “it comes alive, it comes alive… it comes alive & I die a little more…”, only to be followed by singing in a calm, tired tone ’bout “the unnamed feeling” that names this song while soft but low & dark notes play, only to then abruptly jump into a miserable-sounding shout as he sings the last line, “takes me away…”. E’en the bridge, where he awkwardly sings, “Get the FUCK out of here… I just wanna get the FUCK away from me”, which looks like it should be goofy, but sounds so miserable that it can’t help but sound harrowing, especially followed by just ranting ’bout the negative ways he feels — “I rage, I glaze [ OK, that sounds kinda goofy nowadays, given how we now use the word “glaze” ], I hurt, I hate”, followed by the guitarist & drummer going apeshit.

Tho there are many classic Metallica songs with much mo’ interesting & memorable musical compositions than this, I’d go far ’nough to say that this song might have Hetfield’s best work as a singer ( tho “Welcome Home ( Sanitarium )” & their best song o’erall, “Fade to Black”, are admittedly strong competition ).

Grade: S

Music Video

Unfortunately, I would say the music video is the weakest for this album, with the band jamming in a dingy ol’ room like so many 2000s rock bands & a bunch o’ scattered clips o’ people expressing anxiety in very generic, cartoonish ways while psychologic terms in ol’ fashioned fonts fade in & out. It’s not exaggerated ’nough to be funny & obviously not genuinely well done & undermines the much mo’ specific & genuinely harrowing song.

Grade: D

10. Purify

In contrast to the previous song, which was genuinely good, & all the earlier awesomely bad songs, this song is just bad in an annoying way, especially the horrendous chorus where Hetfield repeats in an ear-piercing voice, “¡PUUUURIIIIFYYYYYYYY!”. & the music just sounds like an inferior bootleg o’ the main riff ’hind “Dirty Window”.

The lyrics are just as genuinely bad, falling into the generic, vague language o’ pain that I criticized mediocre nu-metal bands like Drowning Pool o’ employing before, & which this album had been thankfully bereft o’ till now. The closest I could find is the line, “I ain’t dancing with your skeletons”, which isn’t that funny, & is sang in a bland way.

So, in short, this song is only e’er boring or annoying & definitely doesn’t feel like it received the same effort as any other song on this album. The best I can say ’bout it is that I can see the metaphor o’ “tearing down” & “acid wash” — a painful, destructive form o’ cleaning — working well for the pain o’ cleaning oneself up o’ alcoholism, but this song as it is doesn’t have the lyrics, the music, or the singing to do it justice.

Grade: D

11. All Within My Hands

I don’t know if this was the last song recorded or not, but e’en mo’ than all the other songs on this album, this sounds like the band gave up on making a coherent song & the musicians just played riffs & beats while Hetfield ranted & sang completely different songs 1 after the other, not really concerned with being catchy or enjoyable or writing anything deep, just letting out his anger by just saying “hate”, & “die”, & “kill” a lot. This especially applies to the end, where Hammett is just playing basic doom strokes, Ulrich is just bashing his drums, & Hetfield is literally shouting “kill” repeatedly, followed by random feedback & noise. This album could not have a mo’ fitting conclusion.

Grade: ?

Conclusion

I think the biggest injustice this album has received is not so much that people don’t think it’s great in any traditional sense o’ appreciating music, but that tho people acknowledge that this album was necessary for Metallica’s members to let out their frustrations so they could go on to make traditionally good albums like Death Magnetic later on, they don’t acknowledge the curious affect those frustrations have on this album’s sound itself. It is 1 o’ those honest artistic messes that in some ways is mo’ interesting than some o’ the cleaned up albums where the band put mo’ stock into what compositions the audience might find interesting than just letting out their frustrations on the canvas. Death Magnetic is certainly better on a technical level: ¿but do I remember as much ’bout it? I can repeat a few catchy choruses, like “Cyanide, fucking genocide…” or hum the catchier riffs from songs like “All Nightmare Long” ( also, the weird pirate song, “The Unforgiven III”, is underrated ); but nothing clings to me like the raw noise o’ “The Unnamed Feeling” or the surreal lyrics o’ “Dirty Window” or “My World”. “THE MOTHAFUCKAS GOT IN MY HEEAAAD”, indeed.

Final Grade: It is what it is