High Bias
March 30, 2003
[see the current issue]
Aural Fixations
But a true artist, as has been reiterated on this site time and time again, must follow his/her/their own muse, regardless of consequences. Sure, it would be easy to go by the book, the one written on the first or most popular record, but then it would get boring, which would lead to indifference, which would to lead to sterility, which would probably lead to the audience forsaking the artists in droves anyway. If the artist is true to him/her/itself, he/she/etc. avoids such a sinkhole, experimenting, going whichever way the whims indicate, trusting in the audience to follow the music down whatever path it may lead. A true artist believes in both creative autonomy and the audience. AFI is a true artist. The California quartet started as teenage punk rockers, garnering a loyal following with its bratty speed punk on albums like Very Proud of Ya and Shut Your Mouth and Open Your Eyes. But as the bandmembers matured, so did their tastes and talents, and slowly new elements were introduced to the sound. In particular, traces of Gothic rock became evident, skirting around the edges of albums like Black Sails in the Sunset and the breakthrough The Art of Drowning. But other sounds have worked their ways into the band's music, and now, ten years after it initially formed, AFI finds itself growing far beyond the punk label with its first major label release Sing the Sorrow. The opening track immediately serves notice that this is not the AFI of old. "Miseria Cantare - The Beginning" (as if the title weren't enough) starts with ambient electronic noises best experienced with headphones, before drifting into a symphonic synth wash and a huge drum sound. A familiar shouted chorus of "Love/Your hate/Your/Faith lost/You/Are now/One/Of us" contributes an anchor, but guitarist Jade Puget's mournful, melodic metal runs would sound as at home on the more atmospheric portions of a black metal record than on a punk album. Then comes frontman Davey Havok's distinctive keen: "Nothing from nowhere/I'm no one at all," and the album is back in familiar, morbid territory, at least lyrically. But longtime fans expecting to rip through a melodic but forceful opening number may be a bit shocked by such an orchestral statement of purpose. (more) |
Album reviews of new music by:
|