I donít even understand where the last half-hour of my life went.
One minute, it was midnight, and I was perusing the TV trying to find an episode of either "Cops" or "Justice Files," the next thing I know, itís 12:30 and I just finished watching an episode of "Pimp My Ride." I donít even like "Pimp My Ride," at all. Regardless, in that half an hourís time, Day of the Deadís A New Healing Process played in its entirety, and I canít for the life of me recall anything about it.
Upon the second listen, it becomes painstakingly clear why nothing stuck on the initial listen. Because there is absolutely no way to differentiate a single one of these songs from each other. The track to track resemblance is uncanny, and there is no rhythm, no ebb and flow, just a string of songs connected only by the basis that they are on the same CD.
This isnít even the sort of metalcore that I usually abhor so much -- thereís no breakdowns, no double bass, no chugga chugga, the problem instead lies with how uneventful the album is, and how many songs are carbon copies of all the rest. The raspy screams of the vocalist present a solid, if not forgettable basis. Thereís no variation, though, no highs, lows, or changes in inflection that might help these songs from digging into the rut that it does. Further perpetuating the bland state of affairs is the music behind it all. Again, not bad per se, but so little sticks out that itís impossible to gravitate towards one song or another. Aside from some repeated rhythmic shouting halfway through the song, ďChoke on Your Own TongueĒ sounds damn near identical to the same approach taken on ďSame Cross to Bear.Ē
I know Iím beating a dead horse here, but thereís just so little that can be said about a record that essentially replays one solitary song eleven times. Granted, itís not a bad song, but itís sure as hell not good enough to listen to 11 times in a row.