 |
|
September 7, 2008 |
 |
|
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
01. Fist
02. I Thought Everything Was Alright
03. Inno All'Odio
04. Charon
05. Sleepless
06. Evoluzione
07. Lost In A Videogame
08. Rotten Mouth & Broken Arms
09. Sqeal
10. A.D.H.D.
11. Therapia
12. To Protect And Serve
|
|
Formed in Italy in 1993, LINEA 77 started out covering RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE songs, but in no time at all LINEA 77 went from being a non-distinct cover band to a non-distinct Punk/Pop plague hell-bent on dumbing down the masses with rehashed and recycled "current flavor" styles with a floundering effort at a false pretense of heaviness, hence the only justification I can find (and a flimsy one at that) for their presence on the Earache roster. Granted, Earache is your typical metal label, and being such are compelled to throw in the occasional blatant stab at whatever the current commercial palate is, but this falls so pathetically short of the realm of metal it makes the Clone-Core, cheeseball, flash-in-the-pan acts out there look like MORBID ANGEL.
I suppose there is a place for every band; personally, I'd be contented to see LINEA 77 setting up camp in the magical, far away realm of Obscurity, but at the very least this band should be vomited out of speakers at Hot Topics around the country instead of making their home on an otherwise fairly respectable metal label.
Again, there's a slight pretense of metal moments, consisting entirely of sped up Pop drum beats, distorted bar chords and the good ole scrotum-in-a-vice hollers, but these occasional moments only serve to aggravate the listener that much more, because it comes across as nothing more than contrived, hollow, ineffectual stumbling that leaves you with the unshakeable impression that LINEA 77 was consciously trying to slop in heavy sections in order to broaden their appeal, but as a result they fail miserably, thus thoroughly eviscerating any hope of appeal; metal does not mix with this homogenized car wreck of annoying Pop and uninspired, bastardized Punk repetitiveness, especially when it sounds as artificial and agonizingly basic as "Available For Propaganda".
And for those out there holding onto the possibility that the Punk aspect might salvage LINEA 77's appeal, I'm afraid it's just another reason to hold this band in contempt, for they butcher the heart and purpose of true Punk by playing the current radio-friendly, bastard son style that fans of the truly brash old school Punk wouldn't come near with a blow torch and a sledge hammer.
With that I suppose it's not much of a surprise that every song sounds virtually identical; the band has nothing to work with, so they stick to an overworked blueprint of extremely basic and repetitive song structuring with overtly monotonous guitars and drums and those every-annoying, pseudo-Punk/Pop off-key yells and rants, intending to come across as abrasive little rebellious whippersnappers what don't take no guff offa nobody no how, but wind up as special needs poster children for the uninventive, underachieving, dime-a-dozen, clueless meddler niche of the music industry. LINEA 77 lack identity, individuality, talent and musical sense, which in turn makes them prime candidates for the mainstream.
And that's perhaps one of the more discrediting facets of the band: There are no pleasantries or half-hearted attempts to maintain integrity, just an asserted effort to strip down the music to as much of a basic, rehashed state as possible so as to make them that much more palatable to the substandard expectations of the musical mainstream. The proof is in the production as much as the so-called music itself, with producer Dave Dominguez, the man to blame for such musical atrocities as PAPA ROACH, ORGY and ADEMA, greasing this monkey up with an extra smattering of corporate knob polish to further enhance the band's hopelessly barren musical relevance.
I must honestly say that this is one of the most useless exercises in musical emptiness my ears have ever had the extreme displeasure of experiencing. Most albums that I encounter, if I dig long enough, will eventually pose something at least resembling appeal or inciting a respectful nod, if only for a fleeting moment, but LINEA 77's "Available For Propaganda" falls well short of even that; this album is a flaming burnout of a failure from beginning to end, and from every possible aspect imaginable: lyrically, vocally, instrumentally, compositionally et al. Pound for pound one of the emptiest collections of fluff and filler ever captured on audio, LINEA 77 thus far have the distinction of having squeezed out THE worst album of 2005 and have the long-term potential of being one of THE worst bands in the history of modern music, and if "Available For Propaganda" is any portent of things to come, before long LINEA 77 will be "Available For Bah Mitzvahs, Weddings, and Junior High School Dances".
Give this disc a WIDE berth, and be careful not to step in the LINEA 77.
|
|
|
|
