Sinner - Crash and Burn Review
by Matt Hensch
There is just a single point to stress about this umpteenth Sinner offering its title analyzes the band's attempts at another record perfectly. This is nothing but a painful Crash & Burn. Play the scorned card, quickly discover why it is scorned, and experience the inevitable. Oh boy.
Perhaps Sinner did not get the memo about modernization. Nevertheless, the main notion behind Crash & Burn leaves Mat Sinner and the remaining pact scrambling to grab generic hard rock ΰ la Fear of the Dark with a shot of estrogen and a missing cerebellum, allowing us to observe the vegetative object flail endlessly into its own demise. Overall this bastardization of hard rock stands remarkably preposterous in its fallacious glory, perhaps due to Sinner's unfortunate decision to give the blasphemous progeny a safeguard into our world, or simply because few items will ever sample its utter disdainfulness. Either way, I made a crown out of dog sh*t
it is for you, Sinner(s)!
Crash & Burn, much like other mainstream attempts, destroys the prevalent texture of hard rock, especially due to Sinner's neglect for their own music. Although it would be nifty to mention some daring aspect about Sinner's approach, there really is not anything enjoyable. It is just what one would expect when discussing generic hard rock: predictable riffs, bland percussion, a general dependency on verse-chorus quilts and no identity in sight.
However, as things progress, Crash & Burn quickly becomes much, much worse, as Sinner narrows the faceless smirk of soulless hard rock into pop rock, so incredibly awful I cannot even emphasize how bad it really is, and that my, friends is Crash & Burn in a few sentences. The music itself is so void of actual decency and intelligence I am daring to say it should not qualify as such, and it does not take a PHD to realize Sinner's performance defiles any possibility of musical appreciation from these hard rock formulas, not because it is hard rock, but because the whole album self-destructs right when those half-assed ideas and haphazard, radio-friendly qualities begin, although a lot more verbatim where it hurts.
Essentially, Crash & Burn masquerades itself as a Fear of the Dark tribute without a cut or two framing virtuous potential despite a disqualifying surrounding; this one is a deadbeat throughout, hardly maintaining a sturdy function regardless of form. But the mastermind behind the curtain, Mat Sinner, revels in the unspoken characteristic that several fans and critics alike convey as frivolous: old age. The gruff, rusty chimes are not infallible, but very out of place in its musical terms while lacking a sense of ambition, which over time blasts a huge hole in the album's dehydrated sternum via an old lust for fast cars, hot women, and sh*tty rock music that once knew when to stop, unlike this German band (hint, hint) I have heard of before.
Simply put, he is not an appropriate fit regardless of vocal interpretation, albeit a key representation of the album's habitual mood; that being it has absolutely no substance whatsoever. Hell, I would expect metal like this from Avril Lavigne, whom actually has a direct connection with Sinner's razor-laced bowel movement based on their cover of Marvelous 3's "Little Head," which was written by Butch Walker, now a record producer, and ultimately, Avril Lavigne's. Of course, there's nothing wrong with an obscure cover like so, but pop-punk riffing and a chorus that has Sinner practically yelling "KILL US!" destroys that notion right when liftoff commences. Definitely an unmatchable musical achievement in the negative zone that only few will dare touch or even comprehend without aid from Planet Retardia. No jokes, if one is looking for intellectual devolution, one has found it.
Now had I said most tunes on Crash & Burn suck as bad as "Little Head," I would be an obvious fibber, because there are one or two songs from Sinner's contribution that are minimally better (not saying much), and even creditable toward the musical objective. "Break the Silence" and the title track are not bad despite already showing drastic instrumental decline once time kicks in, still attributing catchy riffs alongside some good soloing sections. However, Sinner's attack quickly leaves this pseudo-utopia shortly thereafter, almost immediately divulging into recycled hard rock in the form of a snowball: progressively worsening until "Little Head" arrives, and then creating a paralyzing effect that mutes Sinner's final cuts into vomiting pop-rock operations through bland formulas and one-dimensional songs, finally putting this abomination out of its misery. And yes, it hurts.
To comprehensively include every piece of poetic garbage within Sinner's unpardonable contribution would require numerous listens upon what I have already bestowed upon myself, and since there is a slim chance in Hell that I will ever happen once more, I will make it quick. If Mat Sinner had any remaining dignity, he should have put Sinner to rest and left the valor shining with honor instead of selling his soul nearly thirty years into the band's longevity, and if Crash & Burn does not cram the idea of retirement down his throat, Sinner will proceed down a dead-end road, only to be gutted by natural selection within a few more albums. Needless to say, calling this one repugnant is the politically correct way of saying what Crash & Burn truly deserves.
Crash & Burn
Break the Silence
Heart of Darkness
Fist to Face
Until It Hurts
Like a Rock
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