Tag Team: Godsmack – The Oracle

(Sometimes, a record comes along that unites two [or more] of the Assault.it staffers in such critical fervor that a standard single-writer review can’t possibly do the subject justice. And so we employ the most powerful weapon at our disposal: THE TAG TEAM REVIEW! This episode of TAG TEAM features Tim and Oswald getting all pumped up over Godsmack’s new record, The Oracle.)

TIM I like music that’s tough. Not that the funky beats of indie rock don’t appeal to me, but when I’m rolling down the south side for a White Sox game or to hit up Reggie’s rock club for a show, I can’t be seen listening to. . .that. I don’t want to get robbed, or beat up, or laughed at. (I like Paramore too, but you won’t see me listening to that kind of stuff in my car either.) Godsmack is tough. Tough, and heavy--really heavy. That’s all I’ve ever asked for in metal bands. I don’t need you to screech or growl or melt my face with silly stringy guitar solos--just be heavy, and mostly make me look and feel tough when I listen to you.

Even if I’m just vaccuuming my place, if I have the windows down and some high school riff-raff spy me from the street level hardcore-vaccuuming to Godsmack, I don’t want them to giggle to themselves and throw rocks at my window, or laugh at me like I used to laugh at my friend’s “favorite Chicagoan” neighbor. (The one that used to ride his exercise bike indoors in full-on racer gear directly in front of the window for everyone to see--that guy wasn’t tough.) Listening to Godsmack’s new album makes you feel tough because they didn’t go down the same road that countless other soundalikes have. (See Q101′s playlist during the daytime. . .Seether, Breaking Benjamin, Sick Puppies, and on and on.)

OSWALD Godsmack are definitely tough, I’ll give them that. And after ten years of making fun of them for biting Alice In Chains so hard that Layne Staley felt it from his underground opium den (aka “grave“), I’m willing to give them even more than that: they’re actually fucking good. As I get older, the number one thing I look for in new music is variety and experimentation -- I want bands that are doing something new and unique, that are transporting me somewhere else with their sound. Godsmack don’t do any of that, though, and that’s why I’ve responded so strongly to The Oracle. After a long day of listening to bands that are trying to rape my ears with the new and the crazy, it’s actually kinda refreshing to pop open a crisp, cold Budweiser and hear a band that just cranks it up to 11 and settles into a hard-rockin’ groove. If Bob Lefsetz were to catch a Godsmack concert, he’d probably describe them as “smokin.’” And then he’d go back to his tiny apartment in Santa Monica and write a 1000-word diatribe about how they reminded him of when he used to go see Deep Purple at the Coliseum in 1974 and they’d blow his fucking face off with their stoned virtuosity.

The riffs on The Oracle just keep coming -- it’s like a freight train loaded with bareknuckle blooze guitar, headed straight for your tender cranium. The disc starts strong with “Cryin’ Like A Bitch,” a song that first reminds me of every time I ever cried like a bitch, and then forces me to drink my own salty tears at (metaphorical) fist-point. Every time I hear that song, I feel like somebody jammed a hypodermic needle filled with testosterone straight into my nuts. I actually strut for three or four days afterward, wobbling like my huge balls are throwing me off balance. And the rest of the CD has pretty much the same vibe, although it gets pretty dark at parts. And that’s when the band channels Alice In Chains the most, but I don’t hate it -- now that Jerry Cantrell has officially shit all over AIC’s legacy by getting the band back together with a new, utterly generic Staley soundalike, we need a new Alice In Chains. And Godsmack could show those guys how it’s REALLY done -- there’s no drugged-out self-loathing to be found here, just brick-hard cock-rock that swings with the grungy swagger of Led Zeppelin cutting their coke with Valium.

The Oracle is a true marvel of craftsmanship, in my opinion -- none of these songs are catchy enough to become all-time favorites, but the disc overall is almost frighteningly consistent. I can listen to it from start to finish without paying attention and still get all the information I need to process and appreciate it. That’s kind of a back-handed compliment, but this is hard-rock, right? Everything should be communicated directly to my face like the backhand of Allah. If you do pay attention, there’s a notable lack of lyrical insight present, but the principle themes are communicated semi-powerfully by a witchy Massachusetts vibe that makes me feel like Nathaniel Hawthorne came back from the dead as a badass zombie and started writing songs about voodoo and whiskey. Obviously that can’t be a bad thing, right?

TIM If there’s one song that stands out on this album to me it’s probably the caboose track, “The Oracle.” It vaguely reminds me of the track we used to loop at a haunted house I worked at called Voodoo--you could play that song all night long and not get sick of it and still feel creepy as fuck following teenagers around in full facepaint and a scary costume. “The Oracle” differs in that, if you were racing your car around suburban midwestern towns, the only way you’d slow down would be if a rival high school’s quarterback cut you off in his piece-of-shit Ford Mustang.

Without the 2cc injection of testosterone sauce squirted right into your sack by the last two minutes of non-stop guitar riffs, you’d probably just mosey your way down the road to your girlfriend’s house (where you’d cry [like a bitch] to her about how much you hate jocks. Thankfully us skinny twerps have tough soundtracks that at least make us sound tough. No doubt half of the songs on The Oracle will be featured in this year’s Vin Diesel or Rob Zombie movie. Although, they’re hard to tell apart besides “The Oracle.” This is definitely one of those albums you can listen to from start to finish on shuffle, over and over again, without discerning between whether or not you have made it through the entire disc yet.

TAG-TEAM GRADE: A-

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About the Author

Tim is the co-owner of Assault, and tends to think he can party twice as hard as anyone. Follow him on twitter @assault

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One comment “awaiting immediate, obnoxious rebuttal”

1. Sully says:

   May 11, 2010 at 11:19 am

   Best review ever! HEAVY!