People are vocal about their distaste for change, whatever that may mean. For many people, there is comfort in consistency, but boredom in the lack of risk. If there’s anything I’ve seen susceptible to crucifixion, it is the evolution of sound from rock bands. A prime example would be Bring Me the Horizon.
How does a band go from a guttural-throat thrasher like “Diamonds Aren’t Forever” to “in the dark”, a track that is pop-rock-laced and lightweight in comparison? When Bring me the Horizon released Sempiternal, it marked the beginning of a new era, which was the funeral of their deathcore and the birth of their softer sound.
Oliver Sykes remains steadfast about testimonies of inner turmoil in each album, proof of commitment to gloom and despondency. The only shift evident is in the sound, a transition that fans have denounced since That’s the Spirit.
After an initial listen to Amo, it’s clear that BMTH should be commended for their ambition. As a former deathcore metal group, they’ve established new ground, encompassed by electronica, pop, and rock.
The metalcore groups that once reigned during the early 10s now struggle to keep their heads above water. Whether they have disbanded or unfavorably changed their sound, these metalcore bands aren’t what they once were.
In other words, emo culture was once unapologetically listening to BMTH, Asking Alexandria, Pierce the Veil, and Sleeping with Sirens. Yet somehow we’ve lost what it meant to keep that sound in place. Perhaps metalcore isn’t dying, but the bands that once reigned are. Out of all of these examples, BMTH manages to keep relevant.
That’s not to say that evolution in sound isn’t supported. When a group decides to pursue further exploration of their craft, they can improve drastically. Examples may include Falling In Reverse and Twenty One Pilots, both of which have reached their creative peak within their last album release. It’s best to approach an album like Amo critically, without any bias, to get an idea of what the album’s essence truly is. A listener can be compelled to shun such a decision, only to miss out on the moments that are worth congratulating.
Amo brings together blends of sound, which perhaps had gone haywire in the album. We’ve seen bands replicate this behavior in the past and fail to make a cohesive sound throughout, which results in a project that is difficult to listen to. The expectations are always high, considering BMTH has already reached its peak with Sempiternal.
What’s impressive is that BMTH, since the beginning of their career, has steered clear of sounding anywhere close to generic. The electronica blends are an immediate reference to nostalgic Crystal Castles, whereas the grittier, angstier sounds match that of Linkin Park’s peak. A song like “Mantra”, although clean-cut and easy on the ears, is still heavy in concept, reassuring us that BMTH still takes their wording seriously.
An unanticipated turn was the band’s collaboration with Grimes, an unlikely candidate feature on “Nihilistic Blues”, which is one of the most welcomed tracks on Amo. This track covers plenty ground of sound; a moment on the album ensures that the band can be trusted to take a craft and run with it until it is perfected, rather than throwing it at a wall and hoping it sticks. “Nihilistic Blues” brings futuristic, neon electronica beats and tastefully shreds through them with a shrill and aggressive chorus.
What works best about the album is its thorough songwriting, an aspect that, at its best, is twisted in all the right ways. Sykes remains honest in his poetry, making art of his writing the way we’ve always known. His formulas have been promising, becoming what is most iconic about BMTH. Heavy subjects such as comparing love to a cult, infidelity, and losing a friend to cancer had us taken aback, but Sykes does honor to each of these themes by framing them appropriately, doing justice to the intensity of the ache.
Being a commercially acceptable album, the band could’ve played it safe, compelled by pop patterns that would’ve watered them down. Amo proves that they aren’t usually offenders of this crime, (emphasis on “usually”). A song like “Medicine” is light years away from the maturity of “Wonderful Life”. The song sews themes of mental deterioration, drugs, and wasting away, which is a dark turn from what they’re used to as a younger band with an equally young audience.
Despite the moments on the album that require improvement, BMTH continuously proves that they can be adventurous without publishing something they risk regretting. The results are promising, which keeps their name in the limelight. How they manage to exist as commercially appealing while balancing the tradition of their heavy guitar riffs is beyond me, but it is evident in Amo.
The album, although not a favorite, still manages to keep my interest per listen. There’s something magical about the album’s solid uses of blended genre, a task that I’ve seen has been disrespected all too often. It’s clear that BMTH is not interested in such shenanigans, rather, they are encouraged by pushing their craft further. Even while “Amo” retains some roots from their previous work, it is an alien in comparison. The band has delved into unknown waters and managed to do it well, perhaps paving a road for other metalcore bands to follow.
Alma Tovar
Features Editor