Feature Review

Filter: Title of Record
***
If Title of Record had been
an English 101 paper, it would have been handed back with lots of
red ink for a rewrite--and the second version would have scored a
solid "A+." But since a mass recall of Filter's latest is
probably out of the question, long time fans are scrambling to opposite
sides of the dodge-ball court, trying to make heads or tails of where
their loyalties lie. It's easy to like Richard Patrick, the creator
of Filter, even as he whines his way across his second album. Maybe
it's because he's just like you. Maybe it's because he knows how criticize
mainstream values without sounding like he's the only one who's got
it figured out, or believing that he's any different than those who
haven't. Or just maybe, it's his unique ability to scream something
as non-threatening as "A-Okay" and make it sound like a
747 crashing through your skull.
But this isn't Short Bus--not even
close. Gone is the wild feuding of guitars and electronic noise, here,
the sound is so clear that you can hear a pixel drop. Also missing
in action is his trademark howl which has been muted and faded into
the background like just another instrument at the producer's (Brian
Liesegang), disposal. TOR is not simply an evolution of Filter's
sound, it's a revolution, and even though most history books won't
tell you so, not all revolutions are successful. For every step that
Patrick has taken forward towards the perfect Filter experience, he
has taken a few steps back. I have never seen a record that has come
so close to greatness, but be stricken down by poor writing and bad
decisions during production. To be sure, the good outweighs the bad;
it's just that the bad is tragically bad and much more memorable,
keeping every song on the album from attaining greatness.
Patrick's philosophy of songwriting
is that the most important lyrics are the words that come to you during
the heat of the moment. Throughout this album, he has tried to capture
the primal scream as each emotion rose to the surface, writing songs
in a period of minutes. From anyone else, I might label such a musing
as pretentious--but not from him. I have no doubt that he actually
believes in this. It's just a shame that it doesn't work. He includes
pathetic rhymes such as "car" and "far," standard
baby-goth angst, and weak hooks that lay a shaky foundation for the
record as a whole. As it stands, his lyrics here are just one notch
up from the poetry scribbled in eighth grade notebooks across the
country by any given Marilyn Manson wannabe. Except, Patrick really
means it and he's not trying to copy anyone else--and it does show
through, which makes this effort all the more disappointing.
While TOR may be a perfect
transcript for Richard Patrick of where Richard Patrick has been and
where he's going--he made the mistake of assuming that we were along
for the ride with him. His stripped down vocals, though elegant in
their simplicity, are incapable of relating the emotional experience
that he wishes to evoke, despite a class act effort with his dynamic
voice. What you have here is someone singing very impersonal lyrics
(to the listener) in an immensely personal way. It doesn't work. By
cutting each song down to the bare emotions that he felt, while eliminating
any and all context for them, he leaves the audience guessing--and
sometimes the leap is too far for any mere mortal to make. If you're
a fan already, you might want to pick up TOR for a sneak preview
of where Patrick is heading for his next record--the one that will
get it right. Don't expect too much from it, and TOR might
just grow on you anyway.
by Richard Leader