Suicide Machines

Some bands are destined to be one-dimensional. There is something to be said for those who stick to their guns and keep cranking out—album after album—the kind of music that put them on the map.

At the same time, there is no greater travesty than watching a band take an artistic misstep, leaving its fans with nothing but the nostalgia found in old CDs and ticket stubs. In the wake of their 1996 ska-punk masterpiece, Destruction by Definition, and the harder, thrashier sophomore effort, Battle Hymns, the Suicide Machines' third album abandons the musical style that has paved the way for their current success. Instead, the band has opted for a watered-down, MTV-friendly approach. The result is an album that will almost certainly alienate their current fan base, while failing to convert any skeptics.

"Sometimes I Don't Mind," the first single, has a teeny-bopper motif that entirely lacks the raw energy and split-second transitions from crushing guitars to soothing ska riffs that were once the band's signature. The second track, "Permanent Holiday" (and almost every other tune afterwards), follows along the same line. If the Suicide Machines are going to put songs like this on their album, lead singer Jason Navarro may as well get some bad tattoos and a lip piercing and start calling his band Blink 182. Nobody would notice the difference.

"I Hate Everything," one of the band's only attempts to retain some dignity in the punk world, is laughable at best. Navarro belts out the chorus, "I hate everything, fuck you," with about as much conviction as Michael Bolton singing punk karaoke.

Pouring salt into their fans' already open wounds, the album closes with an orchestra-infested cover of the country classic, "I Never Promised You a Rose Garden." I guess they never promised anybody a good album, either. It's time that the Suicide Machines heed their own suggestion and take a "Permanent Holiday" of their own. (UNI/Hollywood)

—Steven Barnett

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