I could almost review this without even listening to it. Ingredients : one LA rock band, plus workaholic singer known for self-loathing. End result – pounding riffs with funk/blues jam, topped off with hoarse, frighteningly sincere screaming and unexceptional lyrics. Sounds like every other band that ever does anything from LA. But what’s missing? Well, gas masks, milliondollarvids, and a rampant desire to franchise everything to death.
Rollins Band. All about The Music. Nothing else. Load in, load out, tour the world, and scream. He certainly doesn’t stop though does Henry. Since 1999 he’s released four spoken word CD’s, four music CD’s, two books, two DVD’s, a VHS video, and toured the world three times - twice with a spoken word show, - once with his band. Workaholic is an understatement.
But to be honest, I really wish I could see a sense of humour in this guy in his music, excepting the much missed “Liar” from his old-era Rollins Band. The musical onslaught, a pounding unrelenting assault of sat-alone-no-girlfriend-music suffers from its unrelenting intensity. There is literally no room to breathe. And the lyrics? Imagine someone pointing the finger at you repeatedly for an hour without letting you say a word.
Excepting one small thing – “Too Much Rock N Roll” – which is the most violent expose of the corrupt, stinking corporate rock scene – and the one that bankrupted Henry Rollins back in 1997 when his former label collapsed. Sadly, thanks to record company politics, the track can only be found on some special versions of the CD. Have a look at the back and make sure it has 14 or 15 songs on before purchase.
What can I say? It’s absolute brilliance – if you like that type of thing – and shows the teenagers exactly what heavy music is at its best – its NOT pop with guitars. It’s NOT Black Sabbath with samplers and facemasks. It doesn’t feature any scratching, rapping, or CGI Videos that ape old James Bond or Kung Fu. Just four men in a room making a noise, with their senses of humour removed.
7Mark Reed's Score