Review Summary: why did you abort jesus is crying
Having stylistically evolved to such an extent that their earlier output is almost unrecognizable to the later, Underoath are often unfairly criticized for their rather extreme roots. This may result from the huge difference between fans of
Act of Depression and later releases, such as
They’re Only Chasing Safety, but it’s safe to say that the whiney bitches who seemingly cannot handle Dallas Taylor’s blakk shrieks and overall grating and pulverizing guitar arse pummeling should simply shut the hell up.
The half hysterical/half disturbing laughter that opens the album sets the tone for the ironic juxtaposition that defines
Act of Depression. The song immediately bursts to life with discordant screams, and it’s fortunate that it’s almost impossible to find clarity in Taylor’s high register – the lyrics are atrocious. But let me pose this question: who gives a fuck? Rather than getting stuck up on the bullsh
it religious content, one should take note of the band’s ingenuity in putting it over almost irreligious music, and actually succeeding in making a brutal album that crushes poser indie hipsters.
Second track ‘A Love So Pure’ spews Christian nonsense just as much as any other track, and its ending with Taylor’s attempt at singing the lyric of
Jesus Christ I love you is arguably in bad taste. Nevertheless this failed attempt of melody is an exception in an album that is made up of constantly brutal and oftentimes inventive riffing, interspersed with relatively melodic passages to create an interesting concurrence of musical concepts. As some critics have disapproved of
Act of Depression for its ‘repetitive’ nature, it’s vital that I point out that said criticism is most probably a result of too much c
ock in the mouth. Despite the tracks employing a common chugging in certain sections, to say that riffs are recycled multiple times is just a cover up for not being able to handle riffs that’ll make you squirt sh
it all over your precious Converge CDs.
The harrowing clean section that opens ‘Watch Me Die’ shows the absolute malevolence that drives the album – the lyrics are spoken with a grave intensity, before the song blows apart. Taylor is without a doubt an extremely talented vocalist; his remarkably low growls are seemingly incompatible with his usual throat wrenching shriek, but the beginning of the aforementioned track utilizes both forms superbly. As the introduction correctly pointed out, the condemnation pertaining to the inaccessibility of Taylor’s vocals is falsely conjured by the new generation of Underoath fans, and their inability to comprehend anything heavier than Taking Back Sunday.
Despite its shortcomings, which are mostly steeped in its pious inspiration,
Act of Depression is an involving record, one which doesn’t limit itself to the pseudo-extremity preached by wannabe head-bangers at your annual Taste of Chaos. This is no rant to justify the album as the second coming of Christ, but the album was good when I first heard it many years ago, and as it’s playing from my speakers this very moment I can safely assure you, precious reader, that it’s just as iniquitously holy. And yes I used a thesaurus for iniquitous.
