Review Summary: Please don’t dance, the music is bad enough without a terrible attempt at dancing.
Gavin did not think this review was well written
In the history of albums, this is one. The album has swirly, clean little pop farts for melodies, like a mix of Maroon 5, Bruno Mars, and Daft Punk, and yet this is post-hardcore music supposedly. That means it has harsh vocals, but this time they are not harsh, but rather soft like a butterfly’s nips. The result is an album that sounds like they took a truck called “post-hardcore” and put it through a bleach wash. I fail to hear the punk influence, it’s too limp for that.
The singer sounds like he hasn’t gone through puberty, which is some peoples’ thing. He also sounds like Saosin, Circa Survive and ERRA had a meeting, and decided that singing passionless was the correct choice, so they injected the soul of Adam Levine in the singer. Don’t ask me how they did it, but it happened. He can hit notes, sure, but he sounds like he’s in the wrong band, and should clearly be headlining One Direction. The guitars are equally terrible, sounding like they’re programmed by the biggest Dream Theater fanboy in the world. In actuality, they are simply riff vomit: it scatters in every direction for no reason and is disgusting. It’s like they desire to create math rock, but don’t have the gonads to do so.
This album sucks the colour from the world, and I refuse to call the album by its title because I refuse to believe it exists. If I at any point enjoy this music, it’s due to being programmed by popular media my entire life. This is a soulless album, stripped of anything beyond what will sell. It’s terrible that music like this is a thing, but it’s even worse that Dance Gavin Dance have over one million monthly listeners on Spotify. What in Ra’s name?
Conclusion: this is the hardest album to masturbate to, and you will learn that soon. Heed my warning or suffer.
