All That Remains Is For a Unifying Sound To Guide This Band

The expression "Too many cooks spoil the broth" sums up what Massachusetts metal purveyor All That Remains runs the risk of epitomizing on its latest release "A War You Cannot Win". Many sides of the same story are exposed. Trouble is at the end of the day the listening public, whether it's the faithful throngs who've supported the band since its 1998 inception or newbies who wish to broaden their listening palate a shade, needs to be offered some kind of notion on which direction the band's heading in. That way they can reach a clearer decision on whether this incarnation is for them or not. Lead vocalist Philip Labonte has done his homework on hard rock lyrics meant to coax the inner rebel out of hiding. The title track is bursting with a scorching inner core of defiance that the metal community at large wouldn't dare try to do without. The guitar tag team of Oli Herbert and Mike Martin amaze at higher and higher levels of conscious awareness as the chord highways they pursue possess a zig zag auto racer's lust for both speed and that built in adrenaline rush. As thoughtful an inclusion as it is, metalheads who are artistically committed or need to be committed psychologically may not warm up to the contemplative "Calculating Loneliness". It's a beauty but maybe a little too much like a soft tender acoustic exercise that any one of a number of post-millennial hard rock acts could throw into their arsenal just to tickle the fancies of young women in the audience. Metalcore music doesn't score high marks for approachability. Lots of pent up hatred for political and private life evils tends to overrun the format. "A Call to All Non-Believers" is one such nuclear cauldron. Anytime your lead singer is grinding out dirty vocals (dirty as in language translator needed to even tell what the man/woman might be saying) in the name of casting out human subjugation and domination his band runs the real risk of alienating sections of the audience who aren't quite ready to enter the epicenter of darkness. Don't misunderstand me. Jason Costa is a beast behind the skins. Ballistic missiles with a capital "B". Jeanne Sagan's bass plucking corners you with its smokiness. When he's not overly involved coating his larynx with razor blades to produce that raw dirty sound which makes metalcore an extreme audio trip there's evidence Philip's got a very strong voice. Better yet it's one of those instruments that seems tailored made to soar through the heaviest cloud cover. "What If I Was Nothing" reenacts a man-woman relationship hanging from a tenuous thread. Enough tact is employed in the singing to prevent the teetering on the precipice spirit of unease from crumbling to the ground, a victim of an overdose of gritty melodrama. "Stand Up" remains rooted in the best lyrical metal basics. Perseverance has yielded the hoped for rewards. They're going to let you know that they've come too far to turn back or cringe at the road ahead now. Just the right blend of vigor and delicate fret muscle control. An uncluttered track means nothing's lost in this particular translation. All That Remains doesn't lack for vision. They would benefit from a visit from their current creative eye doctor, be it a veteran producer or whichever of the five of them has the clearest sense of where this hard driving machine should be gassed up for next.