I think it's about time to lay metal's death growl to rest. It's unpleasant to the ears and adds nothing to the force or emotion of heavy songs. Its use reminds me of the lesson in debating: you don't raise your voice in order to emphasize your point—if what you're saying is potent, a whisper would serve. I mention this because Dead by Wednesday's The Killing Project couldn't start on more uncertain ground than with leadoff, “Pawns.” On the first run through, my hopes were dashed as it hobbled its way toward the finish line. The three-and-a-half minutes felt like six and, fearful that the rest of the album would follow the lead, felt defeated upon recognizing what lay in my near future. Singer Ceschi Ramos has the instrument, but he was misusing in it distressing ways.
But my doubts were premature. The title track was up next, opening with a traditional old-school riff and then switching between screams and fast, borderline-rap verse-to-chorus vocals. I don't know which was written first, the words or the music, but each support the other as it stop-starts a half dozen times before the end. These agile rhythm shifts are this band's best selling point, so the more Zappa in their bloodline the better. It's no surprise, then, that the album's best bets come during the meat of the lineup. “Liberty” may lack a great hook, but separating the more punishing start and finish is a memorable stretch that was clearly influenced by the harmonic psychedelia of 1966 Beatles/Beach Boys. “Chosen” opens and closes with evocative echoes and tribal drums; even the vocals are (temporarily) calm and melodic—Ramos is joined by Candiria's Carley Coma. The refrains also feature smooth melodies underneath the harder guitar assault. “Violent Tradition” is an anti-organized religion tirade that's musically straight out of the System of a Down playbook, with hardcore enthusiasm replacing SoaD's near-operatic crescendos and Middle East-tinged rhythms. “Declaration of Inhumanity” closes out the mostly strong first half with a gentle, folkish arrangement eventually giving way to flashes of electric guitars, a rough-rumble backbeat and frenzied singing. But with the softer qualities still acting as a guide (even during the heavier sections), it makes the otherwise abrasive throat-shredding a bit softer yet with stronger contrast that amplifies the serenity and frenzy of both styles.
Unfortunately, the good times can't last as side two begins. “Another World” is relatively nimble in vibrating between speedy riffs and a slower, thrashier tempo, but instead of the death growl, we're treated to a barrage of death howls (the difference being that one has a low pitch while the other is high; both will permanently damage larynges, though). Either way, I can't understand a damn word being said, and the promo CD offered no lyric sheet, so I can't deduce whether the intentions were good enough for me to suffer through it. Flipping back and forth between the growl and howl becomes fairly standard issue after that. “Break the Walls” and “Part of Me” both distill metaphors to their most basic in their rage against the machine of socio-political concerns, so the vocal terrors that intend to compliment simply deter the already viscous momentum. Musically, they sound like arrangements that could have been penned by Slayer or Pantera on an off day (with dashes of DRI, of course). Up next, “Society's Blood”'s attempt to blend extreme and doom just makes the slower sections feel turgid and the faster moments over-caffeinated. Part two ends on a high note with “Fractured,” another expressive and adventurous track, but it's too little too late since so many sluggish tracks before it drained away almost all interest and enthusiasm.
The musicians are all sound in their performance, even if the songwriting can become unbearably stale at a few junctures. Special notice goes to drummer Opus who helps keep the rhythms on even the tepid numbers pushing forward. But Ramos' attempts at vocal variety emphasizes the albums wild highs and lows. He can be electrifying, but just as often, you sarcastically wish there were more instrumentals. As for the words he sings, when they're not overly obscured by an unflattering vocal performance, they're typically of the sledgehammer variety—big, hard-hitting and obvious. “Restitution for the good of man/This is the final stand.” “I feel like a part of me has died/And there's no room to build.” This simplistic method may be preferable to true nihilism or mindless aggression, but it's nothing we haven't heard a hundred times from other hardcore and metal outfits. More focus might have helped, too: these guys attack everything under the sun to various degrees of success. “Violent Tradition” is probably the highlight, with slightly more introspective and non-literal phrases like, “My god is not your god/My god is invisible.”
When the musicians are allowed to nourish good ideas into technically impressive and melodically strong headbangers, Dead by Wednesday excels in their often interchangeable niche. But too many sound like any other faceless hardcore rockers. The fusion of punk and metal isn't novel anymore sheerly for its own sake—it needs to work on more intricate and cerebral levels. The highs of The Killing Project suggests that this band could one day emerge as a major contender, but until they learn to leave the generic stuff behind them, they'll just be an interesting outfit struggling against the weight of routine. Less-discriminating moshpit aficionados will probably love it, but not enough on here strikes my visceral nerve consistently enough for me to consider this record as anything better than an uneven mess that can be edited down to a really good EP.
"The Killing Project" is on sale October 28, 2008 from Eclipse.
