Triangle of Pain

Meatlocker was one of those bands that started with a lot of promise. When they first appeared, they seemed like they were on the fast track to stardom. They were indulging in the sins of Biohazard, Acrophet, and other metallic hardcore/crossover contemporaries. Backed by the production skills of Tom Morris (yes, *the* Tom Morris who produced works of Iced Earth, Morbid Angel or Kreator) and with the full support of an ambitious label like Nuclear Blast, “Triangle of Pain” arrived with a blaze of glory (or so they thought). But as the dust settled, this album quickly found its way to the dustbin of history.

Listening to “Triangle of Pain” today, it’s clear that time hasn’t been kind—or cruel—to this album. It’s as though it’s been preserved in a strange state of mediocrity, oozing just enough life to remind us it exists but not enough to make anyone particularly care. This is the kind of album that makes you wonder how mediocre bands like Meatlocker land record deals while other more deserving acts struggle to scrape together the funds to record a single track.

Let’s talk about some of the songs. “Stand and fight,” the album’s opener, starts with some promise—a decent chugging riff and the kind of energy that makes you think the next few minutes might be worth your time. But just as it starts to build, it becomes clear that there’s no real destination in sight. It’s like being led down a dark alley only to find yourself in front of a closed convenience store—no danger, no excitement, just a lingering feeling of “Is that it?”.

Then there’s “Who´s your god?”, a track that tries to channel the aggression of its above-mentioned influences but ends up feeling like a watered-down version of something you’ve heard a thousand times before. The dual vocals, with the guitarist supporting the lead vocalist, feel like a carbon copy of what Biohazard was throwing at us decades ago. And yet, somehow, it’s only half as aggressive as the four dudes on the back cover would like you to believe.

The title track, “Triangle of Pain,” is probably the best the album has to offer. The guitars again chug along nicely, but there’s no real riff festival to speak of. It’s the musical equivalent of lukewarm coffee—enough to keep you awake, but not enough to make you actually enjoy it. The production, courtesy of Tom Morris, is solid enough, but cannot be compared to his best works. Morris simply adapted to Meatlocker´s quality level.

In the end, “Triangle of Pain” feels like the product of one of those todays’ talent shows—manufactured and ultimately forgettable. It’s the kind of album that never gets a big stage to play on. Exactly like a third-league soccer team suddenly finding themselves in Real Madrid’s Estadio Santiago Bernabéu, it’s clear Meatlocker would be out of their depth, too.

So, what’s my final verdict? “Triangle of Pain” isn’t a terrible album—it’s just average. A record that you (as I did) might pick up out of curiosity, give a few spins, and then you promptly forget about it as it gathers dust on your shelf.

Rating: 63/100—because sometimes, mediocrity is all you get.