So I've found myself asking that age-old question once again - Why oh why did I buy this CD? That's right, folks, the dreaded "impulse buy" has reared its ugly head once again. Apparently I'm still susceptible to the three-pronged approach of a catchy lead single, an energetic concert performance, and an encouraging back story that really has little to do with the actual content of a band's music. I should know better by now.

Pillar is one of those bands that I've always wanted to like. I'm generally pretty agreeable towards the rap/rock genre. It's harmless fun and it can sometimes be hard-hitting, and I've veen heard a few Christian bands do a good job with it. Pillar's more popular singles have always had a good balance between edge and melody - they were never "hard rock" by any means, but their passion was convincing on their better songs. While I've made fun of them and called them "Fillar" due to putting out an album where the songs really started to blend into each other after a while, I had to admit that the original incarnation of Fireproof (which somehow got them mainstream attention, resulting in a strangely ordered re-release last year) started with three very strong songs, and also ended with one. That almost made up for the mostly blah material in between, and the one or two downright embarrassing tracks. I was willing to give this band another shot when Where Do We Go From Here? released this June, especially since I had seen them live in concert and enjoyed the more melodic turn that their newer material had taken.

You know what really drew me to this album? The story. Or at least, the story behind one of the songs. The band, in addition to being outspoken and in-your-face about things like war ("Indivisible" on their last album was unfortunately an example of extreme nationalism being confused with religious fervor), has recently gotten on board with a rather innovative website called XXXChurch.com, which seeks to help Christians overcome addiction to pornography. Most Christians are either unaware that this problem has been so rampant among those who share their faith (particularly men, and not excluding those in ministry roles by any means), or they just don't want to talk about it. Well, Pillar talked about it, and I admired their courage in exhorting Christians to do break the silence and find ways to keep each other accountable (particularly us men) instead of keeping our secrets in the dark and assuming we can handle them ourselves. I had heard that the band had devoted a song on their album to this, and I was impressed, since this is one of those things that no CCM act would be expected to write a song about. That's the kind of no-nonsense approach that affects lives, isn't it?

Well, not on this album, it ain't. Where Do We Go From Here? is a rather aimless, vague, and cookie-cutter modern rock album, hinting at specific issues under the surface but not really addressing them in a way that makes any of the songs sound like more than just another rock song. I was interested to hear that the band had foregone the rap stylings of past albums, keeping the vaguely urban phrasing in some places, but going for more of a melodic approach. But nobody told me that most of their melodies were flat out boring, leaving the focus on substandard rock songs that sounded good in clips, but rapidly grew indistinguishable when listening to the album as a whole. Sure, there are some enjoyable tracks on here, and even a few that get stuck in my head. Maybe about 4 altogether that I feel compelled to listen to over and over again or put on a mix CD for a fellow rock fan. But 4 out of 12 doesn't make for much of an album. Even the much-anticipated "issue song" flies by without leaving a trace of an impression. It was enough to make me dread writing a review for fear of having so little to say about most of the songs. But I'll do my best to wade through and hit the few highlights. On the upside, as least there's nothing as embarrassing and long-winded-rant-inspiring as "Indivisible" here.

Hypnotized
The simple fact that we haven't done anything
Doesn't mean that we can't start offering...
I suppose it would be difficult to start off an album in as much of an attention-getting way as the fiery guitar licks from "Fireproof", but the band gets off to a respectable start here with Noah Henson's surprisingly subdued guitar intro - the entire verse of this song is more subdued, with calmer vocals from Rob that were previously only heard in mellower songs like "Further". It isn't long before it explodes into a chorus that cries out, "Where do we go from here? How did it disappear?", and it sounds really good, but it isn't long before we realize that it's not saying much. The song does have a hypnotic effect, and maybe it's a case where the slick production helps the album more so than hurting it. I get the vague sense that the song is addressing a comatose state in which one's faith feels dead and they just kind of go with the flow instead of stopping and thinking about the implications of their actions. I can relate to that, so on a surface level, it's an enjoyable song.

Bring Me Down
Why does it work this way still today
We wanna take somebody down along the way
But I won't let that one be me
Cause I don't want the drama it brings...
The lead single, originally debuted on last year's Broken Down EP, has been retooled just a bit by studio mastermind Chris Lord-Alge. (Travis Wyrick and Pillar themselves produced the rest of the disc, and the difference in sound quality is somewhat noticeable.) It's one of the few tracks that really seems to explode out of the gates and hold its own as a strong rock anthem, and it's also probably the most logical track to use as a bridge that connects the band's old sound with their more straight-ahead melodic approach. Noah's guitars are pretty fierce here, and Rob alternates nicely between singing and screaming with some well-timed backup vocals creating a call-and-response during the chorus. New drummer Lester Estelle is perhaps the best used player on this album, his percussion being pushed to the front of nearly every track and sounding remarkably muscular even if a lot of his rhythms are fairly basic. (He also does a superb job on backing vocals when this song is played live.) As you might gather from the title, this one of those "You can't bring me down" anthems that every rap-influenced rock band is seemingly required to do - perhaps a response to critics, or perhaps a defiant declaration against sin, the world, whatever. Rob's hybrid rap-singing on the verses is enjoyable because of how it plays mental tricks on the listener in terms of following the rhythm, but like the vast majority of this album, it doesn't seem to say very much. The lack of depth is offset by the short sprints during the bridge where the rhythm doubles in speed - that's not so common in these kinds of songs. That and a razor-sharp dead stop at the end of the song make it a good showcase for Pillar in terms of precision and hook value, if not so much in terms of meaning.

Holding On
It all comes down to, I can't make you feel what I do
But I can feel for you, so, what do you got to lose?
It's a shame that this has to happen so early on, but this song is the point where you can tell that Rob Beckley and crew have never met an elementary rhyme they didn't like. I like how the song suddenly jumps out at you with the reverb-drenched vocal that opens it up - it's a welcome difference from the predictable power-chord packed guitar intro. But as soon as we get to the first line of the first verse - "Times are changing, rearranging" - it's tempting to just tune out altogether. The band never recovers from this overbearing superficiality - they declare that they're going to keep on holding on and that there are some sort of problems that are causing people to waste time in their lives, but honestly, this song could be about anything. You might be able to get pump their firsts in the air in time with the music, but without something specific to hold on to, this song comes across as absolutely meaningless.

Let It Out
I don't know if we'll ever really be the same
Or could it be that we feel a sense of shame?
I like the drum track that opens this song. It sounds slightly electronic, and once again it's fairly simple, but it's also not a cliché opening for Pillar. Rob takes the hushed approach again here, splitting the difference between speaking and singing instead of spitfire rapping like he used to do. This song communicates a definite need for opening up saying what needs to be said, presumably in one's relationship with God - for once Rob is slightly specific about saying that "I don't know if we ever really learned to pray". I'm not one to count Jesus references in a song, but if you're writing about difficulties in your relationship with God, I'd rather know that instead of figuring that your song could really be about any old person that you're experiencing strained communication with. Unfortunately the lyrics are still hampered by textbook rhymes that are strung along for four, five, even six lines in some cases. I like hearing rap-influenced groups string together words that accentuate interesting strings of rhymes, but throwing together a bunch of vague lines with the words "same, shame, came, game, blame, flame" at the end just sounds like a desperate attempt to get back around to a chorus after realizing the verse ain't going anywhere. They even use the egregious "change/rearrange" duo once again. That's just poor songwriting, guys. So any promise shown here ends up canceling out, and the result is a thoroughly average song.

Simply
I've made it so hard on myself, turning my back on how You felt
Seeing a lie that led me on, leaving a love that did no wrong...
Pillar can actually be quite a promising band when they slow down and do something intentionally mellow. Here they take the calm but dark guitar and bass tones that characterize their belated hit "Further", and fuse them together with the 6/8-time thrashing that made "Light at My Feet" a welcome break from the norm on their last album. It's deceptive at first - the light drum pattern is in 4/4, but it morphs into 6/8 once the intro is done and stays there for the rest of the song. While the whole soft verse/loud chorus thing has been done to death, Pillar uses it effectively here, as Lester churns out a cymbal-heavy rhythm and Rob cries out, "You simple love, in spite of the stupid things I've done." Again, I'd like some specificity instead of just referring to sin in such a vague manner, since this song really is a plea for forgiveness and an encouragement to us believers that we need to remember that God forgives and therefore forgive ourselves. I love that message. I just wish it were communicated in a more interesting way. They really waste what could have been a powerful bridge by filling it with the following lines - "I don't know why I can't understand/And I don't know why I can't comprehend/And I don't know what I can't understand." Um, welcome to the Department of Redundancy Department, guys. Fortunately, they end the song on a high note with a few throat-shredding screams and cold stop that segues wonderfully into the next song.

Rewind
I don't know if I'll ever know exactly how much that I hurt You
Knowing that hurts me everyday...
It's kind of funny - I like the way that this song and "Simply" fit together, but since they're both on the quieter end of the spectrum and they're both in 6/8, I kind of feel like they should have been spaced out a bit to break up the dull second half of the album. Basically, if you liked "Further" and you think it would sound good in 6/8 time, this is the song for you. It's another song about looking back at past mistakes and not wanting to forget about God's grace, and the melody is uncannily similar to "Furhter", with perhaps a shade of Staind mixed in (though I'd rather listen to this than Aaron Lewis's bellyaching any day). Nothing profound here, but it's an effective song that evokes an emotional response. Expect this one to be a lighter-waving moment at concerts.

Frontline
I'd be willing to bet that if we don't back down
You and I will be the ones that are holding the Crown in the end...
Hey kids, did you like "Echelon"? Well, then you'll love "Frontline"! Take the same military metaphors, add a little more melody to the rapid-fire verses, replace the delicious bass riff with some basic staccato power chords, and throw in a meaningless chorus about standing up and fighting for God only knows what, and you'll have this song. Oh wait, I almost forgot the final ingredient - a go-nowhere guitar solo right in the middle. If you like repetition of previously used ideas that instigates mindless semi-moshing, then this will do nicely. Otherwise, there's no harm in skipping it.

Underneath It All
I can see you stepping to me just by the look in your eyes
You think that I can't be who I am if I don't live out your life
But that's alright...
No, they didn't cover a No Doubt song. (Though that would be funny.) This song, which finds Pillar rocking full throttle for the entirety of the song instead of doing the usual quiet verse thing, was rumored to be the hardest song on the album, but other than the consistent volume level, I'm not hearing anything terribly "hard" here. The lead riff is fairly solid, and the drumming is run through an interesting filter partway through the song to create a catchy, percussive bridge, but the song is weighed down by some of the most minimal and unengaging lyrics on the entire album. Basically, Pillar is offering a rebuttal to an unnamed oppressor and saying that they know who they are and they're gonna be themselves through it all. They're gonna be what God made them. Well, that's nice - so what is that, exactly? And what do you feel like you're expected to be? Throw in one usage of the outdated slang "stepping to me" during the first verse, and this song ends up being about a stone's throw away from one of Thousand Foot Krutch's more tolerable numbers.

Dirty Little Secret
But now that all the cover's blown
You can see how much you've thrown out the door
Don't wait before you try and let this go...
Ah, here we are. The aforementioned porno song. You gotta love how calculated and vague they are with this one - if you listen closely, you'll catch lines such as "These images are out of hand, and in demand by every man" that might clue you in, but once again, those images could be anything. They could be images of dollar signs, of unhealthy substances... anything that a person could become obsessed with to the point of harming oneself. It's as if the band wanted to write something hard-hitting but had to back off for fear of controversy. The music here ain't too bad - Noah flits around a bit on the old electric and comes up with some more intricate riffing than we're used to, and Lester plays the double-tempo game near the end of the song - the band slams through it like kamikaze pilots. But the vague lyrics leave me uninterested - "When will you see that the end will come eventually? But you can't just let it be, you've got to take control." That's like, the most unspecific and unhelpful advice I've ever heard. I'm going to challenge myself to write a better song on the subject than this. It can't be that hard.

Staring Back
Why do you feel so empty every time you've had enough?
Well, maybe you don't realize with what you've been filling up
It's plain to see that eventually you will see
The Jekyll and Hyde game in your mind is just a simile...
This mid-tempo song, while not the most noticeable track on the album, is fairly likeable with its solid groove - it doesn't do anything fancy, but it's a change of pace that works in the band's favor, even if it reminds me that they're drifting farther and farther from their "hard rock" image with every passing day. It's a simple song (you were expecting... ?) that reminds someone going through an unnamed struggle to look inward and see an image of themselves, a worth that perhaps they haven't seen before. You know what they'll find there? "We are all bright starts." OK, that almost ruined it. Excuse me while I barf. This little game with the mirror doesn't add up to much meaning, though they do get in what is perhaps the most memorable line to be found on this album - "The Jekyll and Hyde game in your mind is just a simile." I know, it's not that brilliant, but you know, it's reassuring to find out that these guys actually know what a simile is. Now if they'd just figure out how to use them a little more often...

One Thing
I don't know if you realize that you're not alone
Can you let me know?
But there is someone out there for you
That is going through the same as you...
Another song in 6/8 time shows up here, and this one stands apart from "Simply" and "Rewind" since it's not really a ballad-type song. It starts out with a broken guitar riff that stops and starts a few times before finally shifting into high gear. That's about the most memorable thing I can think of about this song - it kind of rattles along from there and Rob continues to ruminate on some vague problem that the person he's addressing is having, telling them that he knows they want to talk about it but they don't know what to say. OK, I think he's encouraging Christians to be honest and accountable to one another - that's good. But not having the first clue what that "one thing" is (maybe it's the sort of "dirty little secret" alluded to earlier?) hurts the song, because once again there's no emotional investment. Sure, this person could be distraught over a damaging transgression. Or they might just be struggling to figure out how to tell Rob that his zipper's down. Anything could happen considering the wide range of possibilities that Pillar's lyrics seem to be allowing for.

Interestingly, there's a hidden track in the "negative zone" between 11 and 12 - a fun little jam session that borrows some faster riffing from old-school metal influences. I believe that this was the result of some time that Pillar spent hanging out with recently converted Megadeth frontman Dave Mustaine. It only lasts a minute or so, and there are no words, but musically, it's a heck of a lot more interesting than most of what Pillar came up with on their own.

Aftershock
I don't know if I can go without even if you lock me down
I don't care how much you scream and shout
I'll never be part of the crowd...
Wow. I don't know if I could come up with more of a bland closing song than what we've got here. I think this might be a one-chord song - maybe two if we're lucky. Slow it down a bit, and keep the surprisingly bland melody, and you'd probably have a typical Kutless song. If this is the "aftershock" alluded to in the song "echelon", then I'm thinking the earthquake must have registered about a 2.0 on the Richter scale, because I'm not at all shaken by this one. It doesn't even sound like the kind of song you'd end an album with - it just chugs along, does its duty, and then stops suddenly, leaving behind some wispy strands of electric guitar. It sounds like a half-hearted attempt to borrow from Tool. Half-hearted about sums up this entire song, from the one-note riffing to the semi-screaming near the end. And of course, it's another song about how no amount of threatening or coercing will cause these guys to change or back down. Funny that they say that at the end of an album that has been frustratingly vague about its subject matter at almost every turn, isn't it?

I don't know if I really had high hopes for this album, or if part of me just wanted to support one of these guys' causes, or if I was just seduced by the pretty blue color on the album cover (I do like the album art, BTW - it looks like these guys had their pictures taken at Joshua Tree National Park), but whatever the case, I'll advise the rest of you to take a pass on this one. If you're an existing fan and don't mind that they've moved away from the rap-type stuff, you might enjoy it, but don't expect a whole lot of depth. If you hated 'em before, this one certainly won't change your mind. Four promising songs and a fun musical interlude do not make a good album, and I sincerely hope that Pillar learns how to be more specific and engaging in their songwriting before their follow-up album ends up being called What Are We Still Doing Here?

ALBUM WORTH:
Hypnotized $1
Bring Me Down $1.50
Holding On $0
Let It Out $.50
Simply $1.50
Rewind $1
Frontline $.50
Underneath It All $.50
Dirty Little Secret $.50
Staring Back $.50
One Thing $1
Aftershock $0
TOTAL: $8.50

CONCLUSION: Buy only if you're an existing fan, and if you can get it used.

Band Members:
Rob Beckley: Lead vocals
Noah Henson: Guitars, backing vocals
Kalel: Bass
Lester Estelle: Drums, backing vocals

Website: http://www.pillarmusic.com

Recommended: No