Breaking Benjamin Succeeds With a Practically Brand New Line-Up

Wilkes-Barre, PA's Breaking Benjamin has gone through a complete overhaul akin to the rework of a classic car you knew and loved for so long. Only lead vocalist Benjamin Burnley remains the constant presence. "Failure" pretty much trashes any sense that the revolving door approach has done one blasted thing to mess up the quality product this band doles out to its established fan base. Machine gun steady rat-a-tat lifts you to a full standing position from whatever lethargy you were drowning in. Ben, as many artists in the here and now are doing these days, examines the big picture crazy orb we're rotating on. Early in the proceedings you appreciate his somewhat cautious optimism. He assures the crowds "Life will come our way". Funny thing about that contention is if you wait too long to be proven right it might end up passing you by. Best to grab onto the runaway jet ski with both hands engaged. We get reminded of the whole dying alone fear many folks have in the Reaper's lurking presence. Ben turns away from cold, corpulent, defeated images to admit to us how tired he is of feeling lost and of letting go. That last bit no doubt alludes to saying goodbye to deceased buddies. Tearing the world down sounds extreme but not lacking in sentiments easily related to. New fret technician Jasen Rauch sets his ammo to the suggested machine level without giving any quarter. He's the drill bit working his way into Ben's scarred cranium, a prime way to enable us to enjoy a closer look or enjoy some choice voyeurism that's really none of our concern to start with but when has that ever stopped us before. We Yanks do like sticking our noses in places where they don't belong. Continuing on, Ben's subject matter strikes at our vulnerable sides while the voice itself isn't overcome with maudlin doom in the least. Maybe that's what staring your own undoing in the face sounds like. Shaun Foist shows he's no novice with a drum kit. He plunges into Ben's darkness, none the worse for wear after coming out of the water. As a completed package "Failure" should be consumed in the spirit of a kick laden cocktail but not as a meat and potatoes main course. The quibble I zoom in on pertains to yet another musing about the universe and our limited time offer to be a contestant on it. The rock world has done this concept to death. Maybe staring at one's navel helped grunge thrive for all of about three seconds but evolution doesn't happen when you spend too much cosmic real estate hosting a pity party. Technically Breaking Benjamin clicks and clicks in impressive fashion. Lyrically how many stale doughnuts can you live down before you demand something fresh to get your sonic taste buds on the right track again? Breaking Benjamin has summed up what makes jaded rock critics jaded. They've been there, heard that, watched the fragile artists OD themselves into an irreparable no man's land. I doubt "Failure" is going to spell world beater for any major rock critic who takes a look at himself in the mirror and, lacking inspiration, wonders why he took this job in the first place. We'll have to wait for the June release of "Dark Before Dawn" to find out if Breaking Benjamin has foisted an entire fogged up dirge or if that Debbie downer approach begins and ends with "Failure". If the project brings depression to agonizing new lows then the main failure would be convincing the weather beaten to place an additional burden on their already shaky shoulders.