Hatebreed The Rise Of Brutality

Hatebreed made fans wait almost five years for the follow up to 1997’s "Satisfaction Is The Death Of Desire." In the absence of new material, the band made up for it by touring nonstop. When last year’s "Perseverance" finally dropped, the band’s rabid fans, myself included, devoured the thing. To paraphrase Eddie Murphy: if you’re starving and someone throws you a cracker, you’ll think it’s the best damn thing you’ve ever eaten. But at the end of the day, it’s still a cracker, not lobster. Now that’s not to say that "Perseverance" has lost its luster. Not even. It’s just that to get "Rise Of Brutality" a year and a half later makes me feel very satiated. And it’s easier to compare the two albums because there wasn’t a chasm between their release dates. While nothing can top the near-perfect "Satisfaction…" for its efficiency, its brutality, and its impact on our scene, the violent "Rise Of Brutality" dwarfs "Perseverance." "Rise Of Brutality" literally picks up where its predecessor left off. Taking the ruthless, chugga-chugga riff that was the outro to "Perseverance," Hatebreed recycled the riff into the opening track, “Tear It Down,” which is a simple, savage beast not unlike Madball, Kittie, and older Biohazard all rolled into one. “Straight To Your Face” is a two-minute hardcore anthem reminiscent of the time when Agnostic Front and Cro-Mags ruled CBGBs. “Doomsayer,” clocking in at almost three and a half minutes, which is long by Hatebreed standards, clamps down on the jugular with its Slayer-inspired riff. “Another Day, Another Vendetta” admittedly borrows lyrics from Sick Of It All’s classic, “Just Look Around” song. On "Rise Of Brutality," Hatebreed isn’t masking its intentions. It’s proudly showing its spectrum of influences like a badge of honor. While some question the band’s ability to continue to churn out three-minute-and-under hardcore anthems without boring and losing fans, it’s quite clear that Hatebreed has patented a formula, and is sticking with it. Jamey Jasta and his crew aren’t trying to fix, rearrange, restyle, or change what isn’t broken in the first place. Hatebreed is fully aware of its position as the new millennium’s answer to Slayer and as progenitors of barely bipedal heavy metal mixed with hardcore. It’s tough. It’s simple. It slays. The Connecticut quartet isn’t trying anything new or straying from the fist-to-the-nutsack anger, thuggery, and brutish rage that got them to where they are today: the biggest band in hardcore, and deservedly so. "Rise Of Brutality" is twelve songs strong. It doesn’t get too long, and there aren’t any skippable tracks here. “Beholder Of Justice” possesses the disk’s most brutal breakdown, while “This Is Now” is Rise’s answer to “I Will Be Heard.” There is also an air of positivity to the lyrics here. Sure, you want to beat the living piss out of anyone in a 50-yard radius, and you want to pump your fist, finger point, throw the devil horns, floor punch, pick up change, and windmill karate kick on every track. But themes of getting knocked down, but getting back up and to keep on keepin’ on flow through most of "Rise Of Brutality." Bottom Line: When you say “This is more of the same” when reviewing an album, that’s usually a negative criticism. But with Hatebreed, it’s an accolade, a compliment. Fans don’t want jazz parts, melodic passages, or to hear Jamey attempt high pitched singing vocals. We want more short songs that are as abrasive as a sandpaper enema, songs that we can use to achieve catharsis by venting all our frustration during, thereby preventing us from actually going out and committing heinous acts of mass destruction. A Hatebreed song allows us to drain that type of frothing at the mouth anger and emerge as better, calmer people. If you’re looking for Hatebreed to change horses in midstream, then Rise won’t suit you. But if you worship at the First Church Of The Breakdown, and of Hatebreed, then this album will certainly be the object of your metal affections.