Do or Die

Common sense would seem to dictate that courting controversy and putting out thrash metal, regardless of the stylistic variant of the latter, should be a recipe for success. But in the particular case of Robb Flynn and his de facto solo project Machine Head, as the classic quote from Casino eloquently put it, "this guy could fuck up a cup of coffee". It isn't for a lack of ability to get the job done in the musical department that this former master of 80s thrash turned post-thrash trend-hopper continually undermines himself, but more so his ego causing him to make bad decisions in both the composition and performance department that prevent even his better creations from realizing their full potential. Case and point, the most recent single out of this band Do Or Die, a veritable exercise in reestablishing one's musical credentials following a flop LP and then canceling it all out by predicating the lyrical content of an otherwise solid thrash tune upon having skin so paper-thin that it's only visible in two dimensions.

When discounting the two glaring flaws in this otherwise shining example of how modern groove/thrash can work wonders, namely every sound and word coming out of Flynn's mouth, this is arguably the best thing to ever come out under the Machine Head moniker. The high octane riff assault that rounds out most of this song is a sort of perfect marriage of vintage 80s Bay Area insanity out of the Vio-Lence and early Forbidden arsenal with a modern, chunky production, assaulting any would be listener at a break-neck tempo. Coupled along with this is a punishingly heavy breakdown moment after the first of multiple guitar solos that arrives seamlessly and perfectly embodies every strong moment that failed to be fully exploited on this band's mixed bag debut Burn My Eyes. Speaking of lightning speed and flashy guitar solos, additional praise ought to be thrown Flynn's way in spite of himself for tapping two highly competent musicians in lead guitarist of Decapitated fame Vogg and kit-destroyer Matt Alston of Devilment to replace Phil Demmel and Dave McClain, as both of them play their proverbial asses off.

If this song had been an instrumental, it sadly would have been better for it, because what lay on top of this otherwise stellar return to form can be best described as the most cringe-worthy, mealy-mouthed pile of word salad under the guise of lyrics. As best as can be explained, Flynn apparently hasn't gotten all of the homeboy out of his system following the disastrous nu-metal flop that was last year's Catharsis, arguably the worst album to come out of the American heavy metal scene in 2018 save Ministry's decrepit attempt at political pandering minus any degree of musical intrigue AmeriKKKant (the fuck does an 18th century German philosopher have to do with the KKK any way, Al?), and has even gone so far as to up the ante by trying to ape today's mumble-rap craze (hence the popular meme Flynn Shady). Suffice to say, Flynn still can't carry a tune to save his own life, but has managed to make matters even worse by throwing a whiny rant of novella proportions over top of a solid thrash tune, virtually canceling out what would have been a full on thrash assault.

Against all better judgment, the only thing that can be said with regard to this sad excuse of a lyrical counter-punch at Flynn's critics is to offer some words of wisdom to someone who has already committed himself to the contrary. "Do Or Die" is a song that suffers from a massive identity crisis primarily because its author has been suffering from one ever since the mid-1990s, the only remedy for this for all of the liabilities in this band's formula to be stripped away and replaced with a more stylistically consistent approach, or to put it more plainly, Rob Flynn needs to hire a real vocalist, knock off writing lyrics completely, and either decide whether he wants to write nu-metal or thrash tunes, because the two cannot coexist together. Absent this, he might do well to take a different lyrical approach and maybe try his hand at returning to something vocally along the lines of what was done on Unto The Locust. And if any remnant Flynn apologists or the man himself wishes any further convincing, they would do well to consider that at present, Phil Anselmo is a considerably superior lyricist and vocalist, contemplate that on the tree of woe before hanging yourself from it.