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Anyone who has ever been to a sordid night of squalor in a dark and fetid rock club basement where the patrons scream and the walls sweat has already heard this album 100 times over, whether you know it or not.
This is hedonistic, self-loathing, fist-pumping stadium rock at both its best and its worst.
On the one hand, it’s a rush of full-on power-ballad metal on a pretty ambitious scale. It’s refreshing to hear a huge and thunderous charge against the world without a shred of shame, irony or modesty.
On the other hand, it’s largely a God-awful string of sub-moronic ‘doom and rejection’ clichés held together to form an ill-conceived concept that says nothing at all. Black Veil Brides seem to set up a grand narrative, but contribute nothing towards it. And that, sadly, is them all over.
Aesthetically, they are a camped up Kiss without the fun. Sonically, they have nothing that comes close to the epic gothic gesture of their cult image.
Shark Sandwich? More like Spinal Crap.
On the surface, all of the songs are perfectly inoffensive and radio friendly pop-metal, but there’s nothing beneath the surface. ‘New Years Day’ is glam-stomp of polished noodling above a vague stream of pseudo-inspirational chants of nothing, while ‘We Don’t Belong’ is everything you’d expect from its title, and less: just numbing adolescence-by-numbers pre-pubescent drivel.
The intro to ‘Devil’s Choir’ harks back to Iron Maiden at their most anthemic, before settling back into Black Veil Brides at their most average. ‘Shadows Die’ and ‘Days Are Numbered’ are jagged and pummelling horror shows that makes for the most interesting things on the album, but ultimately that doesn’t add up to much. Their cult fans will love it and it’ll sound awesome at Download, I’m sure.
With Wretched and Divine, they promised “Social Distortion meets Metallica” – what we’ve got is a bed-wetter’s Mötley Crüe soundtracking World of Warcraft. You’ve heard it before. Want to go to a club like that? Didn’t think so.
