Listen to the opening track of The Illusion of Safety, "Kill Me Quickly": It begins powerfully, with a burst of thick, crunchy metal chords and singer Dustin Kensrue's authentic hardcore growl. Then, with little more than 30 seconds invested, you get hardcore turned on its skull, in the form of hackneyed emo-verse. Weird, sure, but it gets weirder: the song then transitions back into its metal vibe, except with lyrical emo entrails: "Let's fall asleep together/ Hold me darling 'cause I'm scared/ And I can't do this alone." Huh?
After the opener, Thrice retreats from the utterly sugary to the moderately sweet, blending metal with run-of-the-mill pop/punk. Imagine Blink-182 backed by the Fucking Champs, and you're approaching the mind warp Thrice hurls upon you. It's not seamless by a long shot-- the elements here are plainly distinct and separable, and unfortunately for the band, a little too hard to reconcile with one another. Like "In Years to Come," which opens with an admittedly badass speed-metal riff. I ask you this: how can that ever-- and I mean in any conceivable world-- work in concert with lyrics like, "It's a different kind of love?" Call me traditional, but I'm just not feeling it.
Despite their stylistic gumbo (and maybe you're picking up on this), Thrice deserves some props. In terms of their hardcore/metal riffing capabilities, Thrice has the skills to get the job done. The guitar overload on "In Years to Come," for example, is grade-A stuff, as is just about all of "To Awake and Avenge the Dead." This, however, is like saying Wes Borland is a great guitarist; no matter how much you try to fiddle with your stereo EQ, you're always going to have to deal with Durst. In this case, Thrice's Durst is its incongruous lyrical and melodic direction. As proof, here's another good one, from "Deadbolt": "And you, my true love... You call from the hilltop, you call through the streets."
Despite all of the vitriolic criticism contained herein, if you think you can ignore the singer, you might want to buy this album anyway. The band adds a conspicuous pledge to devote a portion of its proceeds to charity, a worthy organization in South Central Los Angeles called "A Place Called Home" (benefiting at-risk youth). Then again, it might be more economical to simply skip the album purchase and give straight to the charity. If you write them, tell them, "I don't know why I'm here/ Guess I'm afraid to be alone" (from "See You in the Shallows"). Or don't, and make the wise metal-move of keeping your emotions to yourself.
So there you have Thrice, heavy on instrumental ability, heavy on philanthropy, but featherweights in the songwriting department. Unique? I'll give them that, but so were Two Live Jews. And as with orthodox rabbis and hip-hop, this blend needs some work.
Editor’s Note: A previous version of this review contained offensive language. It has since been removed.
