Hollywood Undead – ‘Day Of The Dead’

By Chris Hilson

Hollywood Undead have pretty much built their career on the basis of maintaining a desperately contrived public image and ‘Day Of The Dead’ is a classic example of style over substance. A lengthy press release that accompanied the album refers to “pensive street poetry” and “sharp song-writing” but when the lyrics are as meaningful as toilet-wall graffiti and contain atrocities such as “get your dick sucked I’m blazing a quick one in the back of a strip club” you can abandon any hope for lyrics that aren’t stuck in the gutter.

Any wishes that the music might at least offer some redeeming qualities are crushed within seconds of the opening track. ‘Usual Suspects’ makes use of a grating dubstep and metal riff that is the equivalent of fingernails down a chalkboard, and that’s before the vocals of Johnny 3 Tears and the others make an appearance. As soon as the truly awful rap about blunts and drinking kicks in, anyone not under the influence will be hitting the stop button.

The rest of the album is equally terrible, and is little more than the worst bits of rap, nu-metal, and rock combined and then divided up into fourteen more tracks. ‘Party By Myself’ is so bad that even Ronnie Radke would have turned it down for being too shit, whereas ‘Take Me Home’ is a bland slice of nu-metal complete with sub-Linkin Park chorus.

It gets worse. ‘War Child’ is a clashing mess of awful dance beats, synths and over-produced clean vocals. It’s the musical equivalent of a migraine and is genuinely painful to listen to. It would have been the undisputed winner for worst song if it wasn’t for ‘I’ll Be There’. An almost indescribably bizarre mash up of country, dance, and auto-tuned vocals it’s probably meant as a joke, but if so then it’s one without a punchline. However, nothing can compete with ‘How We Roll’. With lyrics that seemingly glorify sexual assault in amongst the usual barrage of clichéd drink and drug references, it’s the lowest of the low.

The fact that previous albums by Hollywood Undead have reached as high as number two in the US Billboard Top 200 chart shows that there is clearly a market for this, which is nothing short of depressing. Some will argue that Hollywood Undead’s appeal lies in their shock value and that they and their songs shouldn’t be taken seriously, but when an album is as horribly sexist, misogynistic,and as homophobic as ‘Day Of The Dead’, it’s impossible to ignore let alone defend.

CHRIS HILSON

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