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Slow poison working inside - 94%
The best Alice in Chains stuff always happened when they dug deep into the well of depression and came out with sludgy, heavy, hooky grooves and melancholy singing, like on the self-titled album or the morose campfire sing-alongs Jar of Flies. I guess some people stopped caring after the death of lead singer Layne Staley in the late 90s, but really main guitar man Jerry Cantrell always had more doom and darkness up his sleeves – a lot more, if we're going by the Degradation Trip albums.
This is basically the Alice in Chains formula on overdrive. For those who loved the band's slow, doomy riffs and sorrowful dirges, this is like a fresh, big hit of crack cocaine – a massive two hour voyage through whatever Cantrell could dig up. If you heard Dirt or the self-titled, you know what to expect here, and this runs the gamut from tripped out doom metal epics to soft acoustic murmurs. Cantrell wings out the riffs like he's got an endless supply, the bass lines are rock-solid barbed-wire stabs to the throat, and the vocals are a mean, weary whine – it's all pretty awesome. Opening dirge “Psychotic Break” is good, but “Bargain Basement Howard Hughes” is a bass-heavy creeper that ends up even better, and the thundering, misanthropic stomp of “Owned” will do exactly what the title says – a killer tune, up there with the best AIC ones.
It's really all just a warm-up for the triptych of great songs later – the Sabbathine stomp of “Pro False Idol” and the moody crawl of “Feel the Void” are both really excellent songs, with a ton of mood, feeling and weight to them. “Spiderbite” is the best one, though – a huge, crushing ode to the perils of heroin with the best riff and chorus on the album. When Cantrell swings into that “Slow poison working inside, descending in shadows, cocoon me then bite...” chorus, I get chills every time. Next to “Heaven Beside You,” this one is probably the best song Cantrell has ever written.
The second disc is a bit of a step down from the first, mostly just by way of feeling a bit patchy – more of a collection of outtakes and B-sides than a real album. But the first five songs are all killer, especially the grungey monster sing-along “Chemical Tribe,” the soul-sucking “Dying Inside” and the cathartic hymn “Siddartha.” After that it gets a bit weaker, with “Hurts Don't It?” being a rather aimless instrumental and “She Was My Girl” a rather phoned in sing-along attempt only slightly redeemed by a cool verse bit.
The album trudges along through “Pig Charmer,” a demented drawl almost physically draining to listen to, and the Metallica-esque “Anger Rising,” which was the lead single here – a pretty kick ass tune. Some of the later ones tend to run together a bit, but they're all entertaining anyway, even when they do sound like outtakes from the self-titled album. But as that's one of my favorite albums of all time, I guess it could be worse. Closing ballad “31/32” is an amazing song, with some of the more aching, nostalgic melodies and some of the best lyrics – there's a real sense of wistfulness and broken dreams. It's quite affecting.
These are just great songs. It can be forgiven if there are a few that come off as filler – even the most well-known Alice in Chains albums have filler, too. And having filler isn't always a damning thing, as if the good moments are good enough, it can redeem all sins. These albums are both too long, for sure, but at the same time, I wouldn't want them much shorter – the huge, droning, impenetrable lengths are part of why it's a degradation trip, after all. It isn't supposed to be easy to sit through.
For fans of Cantrell's trademarked brand of miserable, cynical rock music, this is an absolute feast and a joy (?) to behold. Everything has his unique stamp on it, and even for the albums' more pedestrian moments, it feels vital and heavy. You basically already know if you want this or not. It's for the fans, and a brilliant monument to what this man is so damn good at. Go get it.
