Album: Walking With Strangers
Artist: The Birthday Massacre
Genre: Synth/Goth Rock
Year: 2007
Label: Metropolis Records
I’ve made a bet with myself. I win if I can get through this entire review only referencing the clothing store Hot Topic once.
Ahem, where to begin? The Birthday Massacre are a… err… “synthgothrock band” from Toronto, Canada. I put that in quotes because their worthiness of the title of “band” is questionable at best. I knew the first moment I heard those initial gaudy 80’s synthesizers that this band would be trouble, but I also knew that this would be fun to write, so let’s not waste time. The Birthday Massacre is one of those bands that make me start to lose faith in humanity. They’re not Creed or Limp Bizkit bad by any means, but they’re a candy coated ear sore that’s just waiting to turn into a full blown infection. You know the kind of bad, the kind that causes headaches, dizziness and insanity. Yeah, that kind of bad. If Wikipedia is correct, the Massacre has been going on for aboot (Canada joke) ten years now and that sort of frightens me. Mainly because this album, released in 2007, sounds like it was born out the worst elements of the eighties if those synth sounds are to be believed. Good thing I don’t believe them. No really, this is bad. We’re supposed to have progressed beyond the programmed synth pop that polluted the 80’s airwaves, but this band seems intent on resurrecting that corpse.
With The Birthday Massacre, I’ve found a lot to hate in a very short amount of time, to the point where I hardly know where to start. I’m not apoplectic at how bad this is, just stunned. The problem here is a combination of highly synthesized over production, cheesy musicianship and, my absolute favorite part, bleeding heart vocals that just about make me want to slash my wrists. Which is, of course, exactly what The Birthday Massacre wants, seeing as how they fall into a place awkwardly reserved between emotional scene kids, glitzy 80’s pop creatures and Hot Topic Goths.
Uh-oh.
Relying on synthesizers in your music isn’t a bad thing when done with class, but The Birthday Massacre wouldn’t know class if it came up and bit them in the ass. Hey, that rhymes. I didn’t actually know that emo could sound this glitzy but apparently you can do anything with a bad synthesizer.
There came a day some time ago where we made the split between Industrial Rock and Industrial Dance Music and very rarely do we see the two brought back together effectively anymore, and I feel The Birthday Massacre are doing an excellent job of FAILING at this task. Songs like “Science” try to make Industrial Synth Rock poppy and it comes off in the most sickening way possible. That’s not even the worst example though. The opening track “Kill The Lights” has possibly the most gut wrenchingly cheese ball synth intro of anything on this album. I know I keep referencing the eighties disparagingly in this review, but that’s what the sound calls to mind, on “Kill The Lights” more than any other song. I can’t help but imagine the opening credits of the worst eighties movie you’ve seen rolling as it plays. That and the “Take On Me” music video… Anyways…
The thing that ties all this cheesiness and insincerity together is the blasted vocals. Most of the members of The Birthday Massacre go by aliases. The vocalist calls herself “Chibi.” Small and cute huh? I think not. From a pop standpoint, this girl’s got a great voice, because it’s non-threatening. She sounds like she could even be one of those horrible, plastic, dancing… things… currently being passed off as musicians. But no, here she is trying with all her might to be the female Marilyn Manson circa Mechanical Animals. And failing. Chibi’s vocals are in a strange way, the absolute worst part of the music, because they convey the lyrics to us. The band is trying really hard to get this Alice-in-Wonderland-Gone-Wrong story arc across and it just comes off as a bad B-movie script, and I don’t mean Misfits or Schoolyard Heroes B-movie cause that would be fine. This is more like Paris Hilton in House Of Wax bad. If Chibi really wanted us to feel terror, sympathy or sadness, then perhaps she should try experiencing some of those emotions. She sounds like she’s reading these words off the page for the first time. The combination of insincerity in the vocals and the horrible “bad fairy tale” vibe of the lyrics bring this whole mess to a screechy halt. Another awful example of this band’s transgressions against music is track 5 “Red Stars” which is an attempt by the band to mix Industrial Metal with Pop vocals. I wanna say… DO. NOT. WANT.
Okay. I think I’ve made my point, but just to summarize: this is the kind of band scene kids listen to in order to think themselves dark and tormented when in reality, they’re just mall Goths with too much time on their hands and not enough understanding of what brought us to the current trend in gothic music. I don’t think that The Birthday Massacre effectively understands their forefathers or mothers either. This is depressing to me. Once upon a time, being a Goth meant you listened to bands like Killing Joke, The Birthday Party, Joy Division and Siouxsie & the Banshees. Now, if it means something like The Birthday Massacre, I want no part of it. My inner Goth is crying, I think it’s his bedtime. Hopefully, The Birthday Massacre will get a clue and put themselves to rest before more harm can be done.
BTW. I win.
Posts
I'm a huge fan of The Birthday Massacre.
ReplyDeleteI can see why TBM isn't your cup of tea, given a particular set of sensibilities. But they aren't even trying to be old school goth. (I saw Christian Death and Switchblade Symphony play in Chicago and went to a bunch of hardcore and post-hardcore shows a long, long time ago.)
TBM have achieved a masterful synthesis of synthpop (Berlin, Missing Persons) with 90s industrial rock (aside: Mechanical Animals is MM's best album) and a dash of 80s glam metal guitars. There's a bit of a deathrock sensibility (Voodoo Church-ish vibe?), but cut with dark whimsy. The union of aesthetic opposites and all that.
But hey, to each his or her own. If you aren't feeling it you aren't feeling it. But some of us do.
In short, The Birthday Massacre rules.