Pharaoh - Be Gone Review
by Matt Hensch
Welcome to the Redundancy Game! That’s right kids, we are back to bring you another fecal-smeared tampon not even worth a can of deceased earthworms: Pharaoh’s Be Gone. Boasting Tim Aymar from Control Denied fame, this forsaken atrocity miserably collapses beneath Pharaoh’s one-dimensional stance on power metal, which proudly gloats over repetition’s DNA, minimal variety on all fronts, redundancy up the kisser, and mongoloid-like simplicity. Unlike other bands concerned about their music, Pharaoh just squats and records anything emerging from the dwelling anus that openly defecates on poetic attributes, alongside your patience, which is the essence of Be Gone in a simple sentence. Take a step up, you fragile morons!
The rules are simple: earn points if you act stupid, and Pharaoh slam-dunks right from conception. As predictable grooves and sleep-inducing textures intoxicate “Speak to Me,” you can see the band slowly earning Redundapoints from things that start simple, stay simple, and end simple. Every musical pattern parks on bland pastures that encourage generic riffs usually stuck in mid-paced patterns, unmemorable percussion, unneeded harmonies digging everything even deeper, and solos that would have done Be Gone better if they weren’t used. Truth being told, all the material here is REALLY unoriginal at best, albeit a passable riff every twenty minutes or so, but still nothing screaming of independence. In other words, it is about as entertaining as a toad trying to decide whether it should nosedive into a pond or continue hobbling down a sidewalk.
Come on up Timmy Aymar; it is time to spin the wheel. Sure you did wonders with Chuck Schuldiner in Control Denied, and as the limelight overshadows those past glories, you are left dragging Be Gone all by yourself. Poor Timmy! As a matter of fact, this talented singer performs rather enjoyably when times seem tough; however, all that weight is too much to handle. Time and time again, we see our good friend struggling with these extra loads as he desperately tears his larynx in hopes of saving Pharaoh’s failing effort, yet nothing can repair the body when its spine is torn out, right? Congrats to Tim for keeping his decency, but shame on the other gentlemen responsible for brings this whole record six feet under.
The honest consensus of Pharaoh’s third full-length record was born of a dreadful nature, yet there are several reasons ranging from obvious issues on musical ties to jejune performances that destroy Be Gone entirely. How can a faction succeed if the group in question is not giving a percentage of their supposed effort? Even better, who suggested a single vocalist could lift an entire squad above mediocrity? Those questions, my friends, are two revelations Pharaoh must face before charging at future tribulations; they cannot overtake even a useless wino with their presented effort here. In the end, Be Gone needs to Be Gone>.
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