It’s been six years since Cold’s last album release, A Different Kind of Pain, and it shows. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, although Last.fm’s “top listener” Pissedoffedness might find less to be pissed off about and more to be somber about with Superfiction. “Wicked World” opens the album in typical Cold fashion—syncopated chunky guitar with smooth but pained vocals, and an effects pedal heightening the eeriness. The chorus evens out, though, sounding more like processed alt rock than the heavier melodrama I’ve come to expect from Cold. “What Happens Now” is another layered track with grunting bass and harmonic guitar riffs, polished and radio-ready like the following “American Dream.” This power ballad changes up the style Cold has leaned on a few too many times—although when Cold changes their style they basically become Daughtry’s doppelganger with a sound too clean for the pained lyrics about rehab and addiction.
“The Break” is indeed a break from the pop tendency of its predecessors. The guitar is delightfully creepy, the vocals double-tracked, and the drums are complemented by a tambourine. It’s not exactly catchy or memorable, but there’s something refreshing about being able to hear Scooter Ward grow up, if only incrementally. “Welcome 2 My World’s” title alone makes me want to take back that maturity comment, but the song proves itself. It sounds like Staind in their heyday, which is a kind of sound I’m nostalgic for, a kind of sound that really doesn’t need too much dressing up beyond the screeching guitar solos, hummable melodies, fugal vocals, and consistent beat ideal for steering-wheel drumming. “Emily” switches things up with an arpeggiated distorted guitar and a slow classic rock beat. As predicted, the spare beauty of the verse is swallowed up by the sprawling chorus and leaden guitar chords, as seems to happen in most of the songs on the album such as “The Crossroads” and “Delivering the Saint.” They’re good songs, but that’s the problem—it’s an album of solid songs that seldom do anything to really wow you, save for “So Long June,” which has a tragic dissonance reminiscent of Nirvana’s “Big Long Now.” This association takes the back burner when the synth starts in, but what Ward does instead of Kurt’s traditional primal screaming plus ultra-grunged guitar is an even match.
Overall, I tend to like the verses and want to roll my eyes at the choruses, each one sounding like a variation on the concept of power chords + effects pedals and reverb + melismatic vocals soaring up and down the staff in true arena rock fashion. “Flight of the Superstar” is especially formulaic, and it sounds like if Maroon 5, Coldplay, and Muse formed a band with the express purpose of getting airtime in strip malls. Unfortunately, this is the album’s basic climate—it’s a warmer Cold, diluted down and ready for mass consumption. Whereas before their post-grunge tendencies emphasized the “grunge,” now the prefix “post” supplants the more important musical heritage, leaving you with a less distinctive sound. Still, it speaks to Cold’s talent and vision that even their “dud” album is rock solid, and that most of my complaints stem from my wish that they’d keep churning out those songs that made 13 Ways to Bleed Onstage so popular.
Key Tracks: Wicked World, Welcome 2 My World, So Long June
Sarah Madges- Muzikreviews.com Staff
July 21, 2011
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