With obvious parallels to the crunching riffage of Sevendust one minute followed by the poster boy whimper common to MTV2 another; just when you have them pinned in a respectable corner, they jump onto the major label majority band wagon faster than you could shout “Sell-out!”
With a strong voice (shown off in particular on Closure), Paul Mendoza leads his band’s third full length effort with impressive confidence, but suffers from being placed a painful 20db above the rest of the band, creating an artificially commercial sound which really doesn’t do him or them any favours whatsoever. This sort of act may be common if you are a wanna-be gangsta with homemade bedroom beats, but the remaining members of Unjust can hardly be happy at being stuck beneath criminally loud vocals.
Facepaint highlights the Muse namedropping, with Matt Bellamy warbling throughout. Tracks like the following Falling see them spewed from the open sea of chugging metal and into the paddling pool of paint by number rock, of the Trapt and Nickleback variety.
Maybe it’s just me, maybe us metal heads are all too narrow minded and need to broaden our perspectives to the more ‘sensitive’ side of things. Well, there’s emotion and there’s whining about unrequited love, and Unjust seems to repeatedly find themselves in the latter cheese encrusted category. After all, “the sound your breath makes” sounds straight up Michael Bolton to me, not really mosh pit material.
One is puzzled somewhat to stop and consider where a band like this gains a following to even be releasing a third album, let alone being “set to conquer the rock world”. No doubt the unit shifters are to be found in the rapidly multiplying hoards of pre pubescent females who have catapulted acts like the Lostprophets into the Top 10.They will no doubt buy the album, remove Busted posters from their walls to make room for their new found heartthrobs and sing along with heart felt anguish and angst.
To be fair though, the multi instrumentation does work well, with epic racks like Meantime galloping to crescendo with swirling power, while Myron has a brooding power that demands some respect. As mellow rock/pop goes this album ain’t half bad – just don’t call them metal.