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Review: Morning After - Beneath The Real
Morning After
Beneath The Real

Label: Black Lotus Records
Year released: 2003
Duration: 47:24
Tracks: 11
Genre: Unclassifiable

Rating: 0/5

Review online: March 19, 2004
Reviewed by: Sargon the Terrible
Readers Rating
Beneath The Real

Rated 2.33/5 (46.67%) (3 Votes)

Wait, wait, we need a new band. You know, one of those genre-crossing bands like Century Media has all the time, something arty and pretentious. How about this band? Morning After, hmmm, sounds nice and serious. Let's get them to throw in some nu-metal, and hire a singer that can't really sing. Now we'll hype them to the metal press as the next Big Thing. Good for you?

Man oh man, I have been putting off reviewing this. Because reviewing it would mean listening to it all the way through, and even one song was enough to let me know I didn't want to do that. But I finally did, as I see this album getting hyped in magazines way too much to simply let it lie. This has got to be one of the sorriest, most wrongheaded albums I have ever heard. I don't know what the Hell Black Lotus were thinking signing this band, but then they are home to some really awful bands besides this one, so I shouldn't be surprised.

If you took the basic melancholy riff style of Sentenced, added some horrible mallcore riffing, and topped it all off with a singer who makes Biz Markie sound like Daniel Heiman, then you would be still be nowhere as bad as this wretched excuse for a band. Morning After are awful in nearly every way I can judge a band. They are pretentious, derivative, and intensely uninteresting. This is the sort of band you listen to if you think you are not enough of an unmitigated pussy to be a Nickleback fan. There are actually some decent riffs here and there throughout this album, but every one of them is ripped off from Sentenced. The rest of it is stolen either from Godsmack or Katatonia – take your pick as to which of these influences is worse. Though I would contend that a band that steals as much as this one does not really have influences as such. For lyrics we get unbearable self-pitying drivel that will instantly make you feel better about yourself, as you cannot possibly be as pathetic as the person who wrote them. "Are angels made to care about our souls?/Are demons here to never let us be?/Is it ourselves that make us feel this way?/Don't really know, let myself flow" Quick! Get that man a tampon!

My wife's response on hearing one track off this was derisive laughter, and that is I think the best response to this ridiculous album. The whole CD is too painful to allow one to snicker all the way through however. Even if you liked the music here, the off-key caterwauling of the "singer" would leave you gasping in pain. As such, I cannot give this album any kind of positive rating, as no sane human being would take any pleasure at all from this fumbling ear-torture. Stay away.

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