ERRA: Impulse


Release Date: 
Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Yet another -core band, yet another waste of talent. Sure, my personal distaste for screaming is coloring this review, but that’s what reviews are: other opinions on randomly assigned stuff.

The musicianship of the members of ERRA is apparent on this, their first LP. Impulse is full on metal when it comes to the music. Soaring, grinding guitars and rapid fire drumming and thumping base lines. And when Jesse Cash sings, mostly confined to the chorus, it completes a fantastic sound. Even the lyrics of their songs are well put together. And then Garrison Lee gets to growling and screaming all over the place and ruins absolutely everything.

Really, I could easily see myself liking, perhaps even loving this band, except for the screaming. It makes me want to drive daggers deep into my ears and pray to all the gods of all the faiths that have ever been worshipped by man or beast that I never have to hear it again. Luckily, a simpler solution presents itself and I just turn it off.

Perhaps there is a place for music like this. Maybe one day, if I’m in an alley kicking the shit out of a guy over a drug deal gone bad and I’m totally losing it, just going crazy, punching and kicking, I’ll think to myself, “You know, I think some ERRA would really go well with this moment.” and I’d answer back, “You might be right. It’s a shame we deleted it after listening to it for that review.” And then I’d go back to bludgeoning another human being to death.

That isn’t to say that the guys in ERRA are supporting the murdering of people in poorly lit alleys. I mean, they have a Facebook page, and murderers don’t have Facebook pages. Except Dexter, and let me tell you, in some distant future when an Internet archaeologist discovers the digital remnants of Facebook, they’ll just shake their heads out of pity and tell each other, “Clearly their culture was doomed long before the third great war. Look at how many fans this psychopath had!” The concept of a television show will be completely lost on their 25th century minds. Bidi-bidi-bidi indeed, Twiki. Bidi-bidi-bidi.

Part of me wants so much to give this album a decent score, but the part of me that is writhing in the corner, crying and clawing as his ears as they slowly bleed him to the sweet solace of deafness wins out and I have to give it a big fat F.

Review by Jason Pace
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