Glassjaw'Worship and Tribute'

Warner Brothers

Grade: C-



Picture Morrissey fronting Fugazi. Picture the intimate blending of heavenly melody with perfect punk. Taste it. Savor it. Love it. Now, throw it on the ground, step on it, jump on it a few times, douse it with lighter fluid and set it on fire. That's what Glassjaw's new album, "Worship and Tribute," is like, if you choose to believe their press. This album boasts no floating vocals over a sea of punk guitars. It boasts no decent political message, or even a focus. Glassjaw was formed out of a New York City hardcore punk band known as Sons of Abraham, and that's what they sound like: Old hardcore kids.

The album opens with the fuzz-fest of "Tip Your Bartender." There is no lead in, no intriguing introduction, not even a moment for the listeners to steel themselves against the gale-force noise that assaults them. Overly distorted guitars are paired with unintelligible screaming to present the listener with a truly uninspiring and annoying opener.

If you can make yourself sit through the song, you are rewarded for your efforts with "Mu Empire," an equally bland song displaying the power of a distortion pedal and uninspiring lyrics such as: "Right before I let the youth / I let the youth decide." I suppose there could be a powerful political message behind that, but it was the only lyric I could understand out of the fuzz of the song. If they're concerned about a message, it doesn't show. they don't even bother to make the vocals clear enough to understand. The song features impressive work on vocalist Daryl Palumbo's part, however, in imitating a thirteen-year-old boy: I haven't heard a grown man's voice crack that much, well, ever.

The next song, "Cosmopolitan Bloodloss," is a very slight improvement, Daryl seems to have gained control of his voice enough to actually sing a melody, but I still can't understand a word he's saying. The band attempts irony, and fails, with "Pink Roses," a hardcore punk song that tries desperately to follow in the footsteps of Fugazi, but only causes me to nearly destroy my stereo out of annoyance.

Then, although I don't think they tried, the band achieves irony a few tracks later with their speed metal offering, "Stuck Pig." You know how no one wants to listen to a stuck pig squeal? You don't want to listen to this song either. And, "The Gillette Cavalcade of Sports" confuses the listener with its title and annoys them with its whiny lyrics. "I wish, I wish, I wish, I wish," Daryl whines to his audience. Well, I wish you would shut up!

Thankfully, it's not all bad. "Ape Dos Mil" offers a syncopated melody over a trippy beat, with somewhat spare guitars that seemed to have gone easy on the distortion for once. It's a very enjoyable song, which seems fitting for the subway after a hard day. And, "Trailer Park Jesus" offers a softer side of speed metal, which is interesting and much more listenable than the rest of this album. But, the nightmare vision of "Two Tabs of Mescaline" ruins any good taste left in your mouth by attempting to sound ambient and failing miserably. I don't know if they were trying to relate the song to the title, but people on mescaline do not listen to this kind of music. They listen to Pink Floyd. It's part of the experience.

And, the truth is, the Glassjaw experience isn't really worth it. It's not a bad album, but it's miles away from good. If you're a speed metal fan, or a hardcore punk, have at it: You'll probably enjoy it. But, if you're looking for a spin of Fugazi, stay far away. You'll be just as disappointed as I was.