1 1/2 out of 5
Let's get one thing out of the way here: this album fucking sucks. As someone who enjoys various forms of loud, heavy music I approached this album optimistically. I've found that the older I get the more willing I've become to give mainstream rock music a chance (I'll admit that it's usually only if it's past its prime and immediate relevance). Enter Alice In Chains, the Seattle band that preferred being called Heavy Metal but wasn't beyond accepting the spotlight Grunge shined onto it. This, their debut album, was released in 1990 almost a full two years before the cultural impact of "Nevermind" would push Grunge into popular consciousness. Where future releases would adapt to the altered landscape with a more Grunge friendly sound, this album, in all it's pre-Nirvana glory, had its footing and aspirations firmly planted in another genre of the prior decade: Hair Metal.
The influence of Guns N' Roses is all over this thing, from the production to the guitar solos to Laney Staley's vocals (which stay in lower register Axl Rose territory the whole time). Keep in mind that none of this should be surprising once you learn an early incarnation of the group was called Alice N' Chains and played straight up Aquanet cheese metal.
But I digress...
By the point this album was recorded other hair bands had already ascended to stardom almost a decade earlier, which gives the immense feeling that Alice In Chains was not only late to the show but seriously oblivious given that music history was about unfold in their own back yards.
Sure, there are some classics here like "Man In A Box", a plodding stomper that references literal piles of shit twice, and "Bleed The Freak" (which is about bleeding freaks?), but for each decent song there's a multitude of bad GnR clones. "Sunshine" sounds like Slash and Co playing Aerosmith covers, replete with enough blues rock swagger to actually pump the smell of crisp leather pants out of your speakers.
Opener "We Die Young" plays along similar lines but throws in a few nods to Black Sabbath in Jerry Cantrell's riffage. The real soul crushing pile of shit is the second to last track, "I Know Something (Bout You)", a song so wretchedly ill advised that it mixes a bluesy galloping chug with flairs of late 80's Funk Metal. The taste left behind in your mouth makes you wonder if the song gave you halitosis; the lasting impression is that it was their escape plan should their bid for hair metal stardom fall through. If one genre falters, just adopt another, right?
Early 1990 was a time of change and it never hurts to hedge your bets, but as an artistic statement it feels cheap and unsure. Let's not forget these are the guys who resented being lumped into Grunge even though it was what carried them and kept them selling records. Methinks there's some bitterness after unintentional conformity.
As a musical moment in time before one of the biggest musical moments in history it's a fascinating glimpse at changing Rock trends but as an album, well, it's hot wet shit. The same kind Laney sings about being buried in, which is gross. They'd go on to do better things, presumably only because Grunge killed Hair and they were forced by Columbia to hang up their leather vests in favor of torn flannel, but we'll never really know.
Anyways, this album stanks.
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