Monday, August 2, 2010

Ozzy Osbourne - Scream review



Ozzy Osbourne's tenth studio album, Scream, suffers from the same problem as so many other new albums by aging rockstars. It wants, more than anything to at least be a "good" album. When you reach a certain age it's the most that fans can hope for. Instead, Scream collapses under the weight of its own excess. A hodgepodge combination of commercial power ballads, processed vocals, monster truck rally anthems and modern rock radio fare (peppered with occasional teases of goodness thanks to Gus G's heavenly lead guitar and the occasional Sabbath-esque riff), Scream shows a beloved (though not so much anymore) heavy metal icon grasping at the last straws of relevance.

The album opens with "Let it Die," which sounds promising at first, opening with an interesting riff. The production is clear, with good separation between the bass, drums and guitar. This all falls apart as we enter the pseudo-industrial verse, replete with throbbing bass and Ozzy's processed, practically rapped vocal part. Track two (and the album's first single) "Let Me Hear You Scream" establishes more issues for the album. This is a blatant pop song, obviously written to be the intro music for some third-rate professional wrestler to walk out to. The chorus may quite possibly be one of the dumbest things Ozzy has ever sung (right behind the last album's "I Don't Wanna Stop.") This is a cold, calculated and downright dumb attempt at hooking the "18 to 35-year-old male demographic" with a piece of music that embraces every ham-fisted thing that is wrong about modern metal.

As we progress through the album we have "Soul Sucker," another sludgy industrial tune with lame, processed vocals in between verses. The chorus comes off as sounding something one would find on a Disturbed album. Not even the awesome, uptempo lead break midway through is enough to save the song. Hey, Kevin Churko (the album's producer and main songwriter), just because your riff is one note, slow, bent and downtuned does NOT make it "heavy!"

Then we get the album's first ballad, "Life Won't Wait." Ozzy's solo career has always been renowned for its' high quality ballads, and Scream continues the trend. In fact, I would go as far as to say that the ballads are the album's best quality. They may suffer from the same calculated pop sheen as the rest of the songs, but at least Ozzy sings them with honesty and feeling. The song is also a showcase for bassist Blasko's fantastic fretless basswork. Plus, I don't feel like some 500-pound slob is drooling on my arm during a John Cena vs. HHH match when I listen to them.

Beyond this point it's hard to continue on a track-by-track review. Rather, we can review the rest based on what dumb cliches they embrace. For example, we have an epic track questioning God (Ozzy even mentions His Only Son by name!), complete with a palm-muted open string chug that would make even Munky and Head blush with envy. Then we have a rocker whose chorus begs to be shouted by an arena of adoring drunken rednecks, another power ballad, some more arena rockers (including at least two with lyrics either about rocking, how Ozzy will never stop rocking or how much Ozzy wants you to rock for or with him), a song about a serial killer, and FINALLY, the song named after his signature catchphrase, the minute-long piano ballad "I Love You All."

So no, Ozzy can't sing anymore. He can't write lyrics, his judgment in collaborators is very poor, he's chained to a career that exists somewhere between caricature and self-parody and his wife runs his life. At least he has a sweet band behind him. If only he'd let them write the songs instead of letting his producer write 11 pop tunes, add some distortion and call it a "metal" album. Don't get me wrong, Ozzy's music has always been concurrent with what's popular. However, in the 80s he had the benefits of great band chemistry, strong songwriting and energy fueling albums that are now considered classics by many. Writing some hip tunes and cheesy lyrics for a 61-year-old man to spew over them might sound like a good idea when Sharon Osbourne is paying you to do it, but in the end what we have is a mishmash of bad ideas, lyrical cliches and blatant pandering to demographics that continue the Prince of Darkness' further downward slide past irrelevance into obsolescence.