Originally written by Jordan Campbell
This may be wildly off-the-mark, but I’m willing to bet that there isn’t a high demand among discerning music fans to hear a Christian metalcore version of Widow. Shit, there isn’t a high demand to hear plain ol’ Widow, so on second thought, I think my money is safe. So, I guess Blessed By A Broken Heart are pretty much fucked. Sure, they’ll nab some teenage fans that will latch onto their cheeseball imagery and pseudo-glam posturing – this tongue-in-cheek-but-totally-unfunny attention-whoring that renders them a panache-free version of Metal Skool. But the outright lack of any artistic vision, original thought, element of danger, or any of the things that make rock and roll rock-and-fucking-roll makes this band one of the most worthless signings in major metal label history. When Doug Moore proclaimed, “The Eighties sucked the first time, you fucks!”, Century Media apparently didn’t get the memo.
Combining every contemporary cliche possible with mid-1980’s synth-shoving and that “badoom-doom-doom-dooosh!” drum sound that Def Leppard simultaneously popularized and rendered passe on Hysteria (itself one of the most soulless albums ever recorded), this record is a total affront to good taste, as well as the universally regarded doctrine that substance should transcend style. The only reason that this band even sniffed a record deal is the fact that their shameless gimmick -their “look at me, I’m so ironic!” poseurism- is unique to the pussified trappings of the Christian scene in which they are entrenched. Why else would the public be subjected to the greasy Lion-meets-Hatebreed-meets-Kenny Loggins Olestra leakage that is “Show Me What You Got”? For a band so keen on the exploitation of irony, the concept seems totally lost here, as they attempt to pen an anthem of self-empowercore by preaching submission and herd mentality. Things get worse, as “Move Your Body”, set to cock-rock guitars and Mega Man synths, remind us that “school’s out and it’s time to party”, before a dicktoasted, gang vocaled breakdown impores us to “throw your hands up and wave them like you just don’t care”. Yes, this is the fucking Anti-Music.
“But, Campbell, you’re missing the point. They aren’t taking themselves seriously, this is all an elaborate joke.” Bullshit. If an attempt at satire needs to be explained, it inherently fails as satire. The band doesn’t have the wit, talent, or self-awareness to make their joke last a single second longer than a glance at their promo pictures. Humorous bands can excel – Terror 2000,Zimmer’s Hole – but they excel because they possess musical talent and their lyrics are hilarious, not irony-laden cloaks for a hidden agenda. Really, this is the type of band that ZH would chew up, vomit out, and turn for tricks.Blessed By A Broken Heart are a collection of musical whores, shoving any bad idea that happens to walk by firmly between their legs and shitspraying the cocktail into unfortunate ears. Their sound is a veritable culmination of every misstep that hard rock has taken in the last 25 years, and presented without the linchpin that has made our beloved type of music endure – rebellion. Having more in common with the disposability of heartless pop music than anything resembling the heavy metal they reference in the album’s title, this release is simply a disgrace. Not only to metal itself, but even to sixth-rate scam-artists like Faster Pussycat and Bullet For My Valentine. If Christ himself were here, he’d administer a stigmata bitchslap to every one of these hacks for associating him with such a blight on society.
These untalented wankers can shout at the devil ’til their chastity belts split, but the jig will be up soon enough. CM will make a quick buck, and the band will linger for a few months before disappearing without making an indelible mark. So then because thou art lukewarm, Blessed By A Broken Heart, and neither cold nor hot, I will spew thee out of my mouth. Now piss off.
