Fear Factory

Obsolete

insighting fear into the masses

Review Score:

(8/10)
The nu-skool vibe being harkened forth by the likes of the limited-scope, rap-core ensembles in the Las Angeles area is about to be crushed. Pummeling craniums with socio-poloitical lyrics and devastatingly aggressive sounds Fear Factory will render the mainstream Obsolete. The LACA techno-death metal mavens return with their most dynamically diverse and aurally intense release to date. Following up the aggression and technical precision of their groundbreaking Demanufacture may have seemed impossible to some, but from the opening blasts of "Shock" through the ghostly, haunting fade of "Timelessness" Fear Factory do more than enough to reinvigorate the humming tympanic membranes left from Demanu... three years ago. The patented integration of sampling and industrial rhythmic definition into the thrash/ death vibe that quartet have staked their sound on remains nearly intact through the hour long episode of drilling riffs and schizophrenic vocals. The inclusion of repetition expands the depth of the sound and adds a guise of structure to the album overall. The girth of Fear Factory's sound sonically is intense. Treading on tones that no other American outfit even dares with an aural bandwidth that is seismic in structure. One doesn't necessarily hear the music and much as they physically feel the impact of the songs. That is not to say the only reason one will remember Obsolete is because of the bruises left after even just one listen. Vocalist Burton C. Bell's sinister clean vocal inflections create dark and haunting melodies that ring like a death bell tolling in the mind and are offset by his gut-wrenching emotional growls. What sets Obsolete apart is Fear Factory's continual expansion into the realm of concept albums. Each release experiments more and more with the perception that the album can tell a story through both the sonic interpretation and lyrical explanation of mechanical dominance. Therefor, prepare yourself for the decent into the agony of the Fear Factory before your listening pleasures become Obsolete.

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