What's this? Blindside has another record out? Already??!?! How did I not see this one coming?

Those were my thoughts when I found out that Swedish hard rockers Blindside had released their fifth album, The Great Depression, in early August 2005. Normally, I keep up with bands whose previous releases I've enjoyed, and while I didn't become really huge on them via 2002's Silence like most of their current fans probably did, I definitely considered About a Burning Fire to be one of my favorite records of 2004, enough to warrant looking forward to seeing where the band took it from there. Maybe the move from a major label to a much more low-profile one had something to do with it (and I'm surprised they got another record out so quickly, given the circumstances), or maybe it was the fact that I was going through all manner of wedding-related stress last summer. Whatever the case, it's been only recently that I've had the chance to really sit down and listen to The Great Depression, which is definitely the most challenging of the three records I've heard from them so far.

Now that I think about it, it kind of worked this way with About a Burning Fire as well. I didn't always love that record - my first few times through it, I was convinced that it was one big, misguided mess. Now I can see that there's a method to Blindside's madness, and I've come to regard that genre-hopping record as one of the most addictive "hard" albums I've ever owned. This time around, though? There's not as much "growing" going on. I'm trying so hard, but the magic just ain't happening, and I'm left to wonder why, when these guys have stepped up the songwriting and clearly poured their hearts into something difficult and personal, do I walk away not feeling any real affinity for what they created.

The premise of this album (or at least several of its songs) is an admirable one. The band took a trip to Africa, interacted with people in a third-world setting, saw firsthand the destruction wrought by AIDS among the poor and (often times) uneducated, and developed a measure of compassion as they got to know some of those people personally. That's the type of setup for album's like Caedmon's Call's Share the Well, which are unique among "mission-oriented" collections of songs in that they spend their time retelling personal experiences and reflections on what these people's lives are like and how they were touched by such a brush with poverty and want to help change things, rather than just spouting statistics and platitudes to guilt trip listeners. Caedmon's Call is obviously a very different band from Blindside, and you can probably tell from the title that The Great Depression ain't gonna be a jubilant folk record. Indeed, Depression is an emotionally weary piece, ultimately offering hope, but not flinching from the despair that they feel on behalf of the poor. Not every song is about that specific topic, but there's a definite theme of reaching out to (or projecting from within the viewpoint of) people who have been forgotten or trampled upon by the world around them. Paradoxically, understanding this pain gives way to a sense of purpose.

So why can I only marginally recommend this album if the idea behind it is so admirable? Well, it all comes back to the music, and while Blindside is every bit as much the melting pot of melodic brooding, metallic grinding, and punk-inspired protesting that they've always been, there's something lacking in the execution here. Maybe it's a lower production budget (complain about that all you want, but I like heavier bands to have a bigger sound instead of feeling all muddled and gray), or maybe it's an intentional move away from rumors that they were getting too commercial, but either way, not as much of this stuff is really sticking with me. I listen through, and there are stretches of several songs in a row that I have a hard time remembering significant details about. That's surprising, given that the approach taken on this album is a reasonably diverse blend of hard, thrashing rockers and eerie ballads. It might actually flow better than About a Burning Fire in terms of track order... yet none of the tracks jump out at me like AABF's best ones did. A lot of the segueing between musical moods reminds me of a less-frenetic version of System of a Down, while some of the more thought-out instances of experimentation remind me of Thrice's most recent work. In some small ways, they also resemble their friends and former label mates in P.O.D., but Blindside doesn't rap, preferring to scream or shout the more powerful parts and construct odd melodies (and occasionally time signatures) for the rest. So comparisons to most nu-metal bands are out. Their sound isn't as militant as Rage Against the Machine or as chilling as Korn, so don't go thinking it's way heavier than it is... but they're no Hoobastank either (and I resent the All Music Guide for implying otherwise about their previous album). They actually throw in electronic doodles or little bits of acoustic, almost jazz-inspired playing, so I'm honestly not sure who to compare them to.

Their sound really isn't a bad balance, truth be told, but so few of those melodies are really sticking with me, so maybe they're trying too hard to not go for the obvious hook? I can't complain too much, because their attempts at artistry are admirable, often surprising me with the turns the songs take. It's just that don't feel all that satisfied with the music in the end, which leads me to my lukewarm recommendation of this album as an interesting curiosity. The lyrics are fine; I'd be tempted to declare this album required listening if only the execution of their various ideas had come out stronger.

The Great Depression
And this leaves us with a great sense of sadness dwelling inside our soul
No one can explain where it's coming from, or where it's taking us
We just know that something is lost...
The album's title track is actually just an intro, with electronic sounds and snippets of the upcoming song floating about as lead singer Christian Lindskog speaks slowly about the meaning of "the great depression". Personally, I think this is a bit of a momentum-killer, but I guess Christian feels it's important to explain the album's premise of a nagging sadness that comes from being "sons and daughters of a revolution".

This Is a Heart Attack
Frostbite biting slow, turning blood and veins cold
Ice with claws climbing, upwards my veins
But I will be searching for a heart that won't get old...
"Frost in the glass glitters!" So says a chilling, whispering voice, and then we're off! A very jumpy, and yet somehow monotonous guitar riff, combined with bouncy drums, creates a fun hook that gives away the more scaled-back nature of this album - everything seems a little more grey and spacious than Blindside's last few albums, often forgoing a full wall of sound in favor of constructing a groove from more eerie, sparse elements. That's not to say that there aren't intense moments, like the barrage of Simon Grenehed's single-chord riffage and Christian's screaming in the chorus, where he proclaims, "WEEEEEE'RE!!! AT WAAAAAAAAR!!! REALIZE THIS IS A HEART-AAA-TTAAACK!!!" Pretty loud and obnoxious, but enjoyable nonetheless. The song isn't sure what to do once its verses are spent, though, playing around with a 10/8 rhythm for an instrumental bridge, and then throwing in some slick techno-isms later. Fun stuff, but it kind of seems like the song's flailing about uneasily, getting jerked back and forth between the repeated chorus and the other random fooling around. Still, it's my favorite song on the album... for now.

Ask Me Now
I think I've known you all along
Just lost your face in the crowd for awhile
I think I have been holding my breath all my life
Can I exhale and go into exile...
I like the intro to this one, with its muted, percussive guitar and Tomas Naslund's thick bass, but it soon unfolds into a less remarkable, mid-tempo song, not really appropriate for the second song on the album if you ask me. It's kind of like how I was lukewarm about "All of Us" on the last album, though this one's a tad bit faster. Christian's lyrics use the imagery of frost and snow to give the song a very cold feel, and he talks about losing someone familiar in a crowd, and wanting to escape with them. There's some nice drumming by Marcus Dahlström in between the verses and choruses, but the guitar stays too subdued throughout the track.

We're All Going to Die
Wait up, don't you close your eyes
Love has been hidden in the shadow
You've got the rope already tied around your neck
One voice whispers life through your sorrow...
I love how this song takes a statement often hear din panicked situations, and turns it around as a mere fact - after all, we are all mortal, and will perish at some point. "But we're all not meant to die young", is the phrase that really kicks us in the gut here, especially when you examine the lyrics and realize that Christian is pleading with someone who has "20 T-cells left to burn". This is where Africa's haunting image starts to come to the forefront, as the song appears to be about a child dying of AIDS. Christian sings/screams with the right amount of anguish, though the music doesn't seem quite as intense as it should be given the subject matter (that problem will be fixed shortly). It's a decent mix of melody and abrasion - the comment "This is not your lullaby" is wholly unironic, since he wishes he could keep the boy from falling into a sleep that he'll never recover from.

Yemkela
Now did you say you're 10, going on 11?
Something is terribly wrong
Somehow I'm dying with you...
The mood changes here, from passionately pleading for a boy's life, to a singing, p!ssed-off rant about his death. The track is actually named after the boy, and it's pretty much all screaming, stopping occasionally to sing a few weary notes. "About a Burning Fire" still strikes me as a more intense song, but that one had a more positive spin, whereas this one is pure venting, and I won't fault Christian for that, given the circumstances. He screams of "Gunpowder burning under my skin" and bitterly accosts a richer society who would write this boy off as "Wasted, dying, disposable scum". Lots of good guitar/drum thrashing going on here, and surprisingly, even the single-chord riffing in the bridge is pretty cool. Strangely, the song eventually falls away into a quiet, eerie piano outro.

Put Back the Stars
Fill the sky with your breath, 'cause you know I'm out of mine
Let the sky burn, and I will inhale without a fight
I hoist my sail, and I'll just wait for you tonight...
After that last track, I'd expect anything other than the gentle sounds of bells or chimes or whatever they are... but then again, I wasn't expecting that piano either. (Which is silly of me, because "About a Burning Fire" had a mellow piano part in the middle, too.) Heavier guitars come in, but they provide more of a thick, slow, pensive groove, giving the feeling of floating in space. Christian has this weird way, in some of his songs, of wandering about melodically and not really settling on something solid that really sinks in. He does that here, making the verses tough going for me, even if the lyrics are somewhat interesting, depicting a lost sailor with no navigational aids in the sky. "Ain't it something to know you're lost", he declares again and again in the surprisingly quiet chorus, featuring little other than gentle drums and a tiny bit of bass. The intent was for the song to feel lonely, I'm sure, and they accomplished that, but it doesn't make for very satisfying listening. It is interesting how they turn the usual soft verse/loud chorus dynamic on its head, though.

Fell in Love with the Game
And we wrestle in the mud and the blood and the beer
Break my jaw, I don't care
Just stay with me...
So, I guess we have a single here. It's another jumpy song, in the vein of "This Is a Heart Attack", though there's something off about the chorus rhythm, which makes it feel a lot like AABF's "Follow You Down". Not a lot in terms of strong vocal melody - it's the guitar chords that lend to the chorus being as catchy as it is. "Fell in love with the game, but I forgot your name", Christian shouts/sings, as the other guys yelp, "Go ahead, please find me!" It seems to be about a one-night stand, or a careless attitude towards another person, but for some reason, the song's title always gives me visions of The White Stripes in a Vegas casino or something. There's a bit of random guitar noodling at the end that leads us into the next track - these little segues aren't the most effective, but they give the illusion of the album being more labyrinthine than it really is.

City Lights
So now, what if I continue this walk
The red line is taking me down trashcan's lonely street
Yes, the streets have names, but the people don't
Or are they forgotten?
Now it feels like we're wandering in the back alleys behind the casinos. A quick-fingered, two note guitar riff (which alternates with the chord changes) creates a light, but urgent mood as Christian rambles off his words rather quickly. He seems like he's kicking himself for staying in this foreboding city, breaking from his rambling pattern for another low-key chorus which reflects: "Trade love for the city lights tonight, you chose me to stay". Perhaps he's regretting running away from the tragedy he experienced in Africa, and now he feels called back to that place? It's hard to say. There's an interesting section of either accordion or organ playing in the song's bridge, and the chorus gets noisier toward the end, but on the whole, it isn't the most attention-demanding song.

We Are to Follow
I'm throwing myself at you
And I'm holding on for dear life
Can I scream out of tune in this choir?
God help me scream!
Here's a fast-paced song with some notable guitar muting. Generally, the faster, "harder" songs fare better on this record despite being a bit less experimental, which I hate to admit because I want to encourage the experimentation, but there are just fewer elements in the slower songs that I tend to find memorable when the album is over. Christian seems to be taking a stance against the "follow the leader" mentality here, noting "we're so scared of being left behind", and wondering if the world's ever really gonna change if we keep up the charade. The chorus here has a fairly decent hook, alternating between screaming of the title and a stronger, more melodic vocal presence. But something still feels like it got dropped out somewhere in the production follows - the background shouts leading up to the chorus are hard to hear, and there's still this odd feeling of a "gap" where there should maybe be another guitar to make the chorus a bit thicker or something. Some interesting, whipping percussion noises break in near the end, and the song has a bridge which offers one of its most quotable line: "Help me scream out of tune in this choir!" The implication there seems to be that even the Christian church, something these guys consider themselves part of, isn't doing enough to respond to the crisis that they've seen.

You Must Be Bleeding Under Your Eyelids
They say "Let's have another toast, let's sing another song"
She tries, but the wine is bitter and the words wrong
She still believes the lies...
I don't like this song. The title just creeps me out. It's an admirable attempt to express compassion for a girl - one who is possibly bulimic/anorexic, or who may be suffering from a terminal disease. In some respects, the unflinching portrayal of this person's attempts to hide her struggle is admirable, but I'll be honest, the pace is slow, the melody irritating, the vocals whiny and the graphic nature of the title kind of turns my stomach. (The rest of the song isn't so descriptive, but the very concept of someone having blood come out of their eyes... eeeewwwww.) There's more one-chord riffing during the bridge, and I think Blindside's gone to the well too many times on that one. The song ends with the rest of the band dropping out and Christian singing his weary chorus one last time - he sounds a bit off-key, and it's not at all enjoyable.

My Alibi
You have been walking along with me for quite some time
But me, with my deaf ear and blind sides
Both of these I turned against you
We all know that you're there...
Now this is interesting. Remember how "Where the Sun Never Dies" morphed into Björk-style techno for its last minute or so? This track feels like an extension of that idea, but instead of turning a hard rock song into techno, this track takes one of the band's more introspective numbers and electrifies it a bit. It's just plain odd, with the slightly atonal, repeating chords being backed by a light-handed, but almost danceable drum beat, as Christian unloads some free verse poetry on us. He's discussing a reunion with someone he loves, confessing that he was too dumb to see this person coming the first time around (love the little mention of "blind sides" in the second verse!) The chorus finds him singing in an increasingly dissatisfied tone, realizing, "I will be asked what I did with my time, and why can't you be my alibi, 'cause I know I spent it dancing with you?" It's not clear whether he's talking to God, the Devil, or someone else entirely here - he was looking to someone to save him, but now maybe it's turned out to just be an excuse? We're left to contemplate that as the guitar chords and echoing cymbals fade away, offering the illusion of a completed song, but then those scratchy electronica squiggles (think The Echoing Green) come back in, taking over the song until it finally flutters off into the ether. Really weird... but in its own way, pretty cool.

Come to Rest (Hesychia)
Sit down in the carousel
Up front like a brave boy
Don't scream like a little girl
Shut up, boys don't cry...
Ready for another scream-fest? OK, maybe you weren't; sorry. It's inevitable that on a record like this, some of the screaming will come across quite powerfully, and other instances of it will be just plain irritating. I think we've come to the most irritating instance, as Christian decides it would be a good idea to trade off screams with Swedish vocalist Ilkka, both of them trading off taunts directed at a helpless young boy who isn't measuring up to someone else's expectations - "Failure is not an option!". This probably another conduit for some rage that hadn't been dealt with yet, and interestingly, the tone of voice switches for the chorus, where Christian's words (sung this time instead of screamed) are first encouraging - "Come to a rest that flows from a spring unseen" - and then foreboding - '"cause honestly, you are just scaring me". I find the lyrics fascinating here, but because the vocals could cause paint to peel, it's about one step away from being as painful as P.O.D.'s "Without Jah, Nothin'". Just to shake things up further, we get one last instrumental interlude at the end of this one - a slow acoustic guitar strumming along to an odd, haunted house sort of piano rhythm while the sound of bending metal coils or springs or whatever the heck it is can be heard in the background.

This Time
With nothing left, the pressure is off
To become all you needed to survive
With a color black, you would not be blessed
In a church that decides on color and puts a price on a paradise...
I'm not sure how they got the sound that forms the backbone for this track - perhaps it's an electric guitar being electronically phased in and out so that it's heard in quick pulses of sound? I'm no mixing board wiz, so I couldn't tell you. It's unlike anything I've heard so far on this bizarre album, so I guess that's an accomplishment. This is one of the stronger contemplative moments, with Christian still wandering a bit vocally, but giving us a compelling tale of an "intimate talk with God" shared with a person who has been rejected by the church. He mentions "the color black", and this may be another reference to the people of Africa being ignored by Western Christians. But he finds inspiration in the person he's talking to, even being so bold as to say, "I saw Jesus in your eyes". That could be mistakenly interpreted as a sort of dismissive evangelism, telling a dying person everything will be fine because they've got religion now, but I actually see it more as a compliment, expressing that Christian has seen more grace and hope in the words and actions of this poor, dying "nobody" than perhaps he's seen in the Christians back home. Haunting background vocals provide the ghostly chorus hook, softly singing "This tiiiiiiiiiiiime..." underneath Christian's ruminations. There's even a little jazz influence, with an upright bass taking prominence during an otherwise insular, electronic song.

When I Remember
I am walking blind
So distracted that I don't even feel when you hold me
When did I grow such a thick skin?
The final song, another medium-fast rocker that has a little trouble standing out at first, serves as a sort of final farewell to the young boy who apparently inspired a lot of this album. "That boy is gone," Christian sadly tells us at the beginning, "sometimes I miss the way he wept at night." Despite the numbness he came to feel, he realizes that "Nobody moves me like you" - in a strange way, the tragedy that these people live with on a daily basis has caused him to feel something again. "I can cry out of sorrow and joy", he realizes, and the chorus culminates in a prayer to become a more selfless servant, that he might help these people: "Wash my eyes, my clothes, my skin, my bones..." It's a decent finale, and in terms of the words and the emotions expressed, I'd like to think it would make ol' Bono proud.

Phew... this was a tough album to get through. It's emotionally heavy, some of the music is difficult for me to swallow, and it's inconsistent. But I don't hate it, and in examining the details, I've even realized that it's not as boring in places as I had thought. Still, I can only recommend it with hesitation, just because the learning curve is pretty steep here, especially if you're not used to Blindside. It's worth taking the time to unravel it if you're a dedicated and open-minded listener, and I can be that on my best days. But still, I hope that whatever Blindside becomes passionate enough about that it inspires their next album, it can be presented with more of a synthesis between experimentation and powerful emotional expression that doesn't hold back on the reins so much.

ALBUM WORTH:
The Great Depression $0
This Is a Heart Attack $1.50
Ask Me Now $.50
We're All Going to Die $1
Yemkela $1
Put Back the Stars $.50
Fell in Love with the Game $.50
City Lights $.50
We Are to Follow $1
Bleeding Under Your Eyelids -$.50
My Alibi $1.50
Come to Rest (Hesychia) $.50
This Time $1
When I Remember $1
TOTAL: $10

Band Members:
Christian Lindskog: Vocals
Simon Grenehed: Guitar
Tomas Näslund: Bass
Marcus Dahlström: Drums

Website: http://www.blindside-silence.com

Recommended: Yes