Reflections

When the board of directors at Universal Records got together in the early 00's to release a remastered version of The Byrds' 1967 Younger Than Yesterday LP, little did they know that they would accidentally record over the original studio tapes with a bunch of cellos playing heavy metal. It was an unfortunate incident for most, but Apocalyptica found a way to turn AIDS into Lemonade and the result, Reflections, is one of their best albums ever.

Why? What could have changed to turn this band into something so good on their own songwriting merits? Well, I'll tell you something that I feel straight from the brain to your ass: they've been listening to classically-influenced metal for so long that they know which formulas work. Just like Metallica used to, Apocalyptica know how to compose and arrange melancholy vocal lines (translated to "lead cello"), gruff chugging distorted rhythms and somber reflective passages in an intelligent way. And they pulled a real two-brainer this time around, hiring Slayer drummer Dave Lombardo to bring tight, fast and BRUTAL drumming to 5 of these 13 songs. Between that and the distorted stutter-viola chuggachunk-chuggachunk-chuggachunk, that's nearly 40% of the album dedicated to actual no-holds-back METTTAL!!!! The remaining tracks are mostly tear-inducing classical pain lines of pluckity/wavery Jellos, piano lines played on actual heartstrings and occasional drumless loud, distorted parts to remind you that, much like those worn by genetically altered fish, these are some Heavy Fuckin' Fins!

But that's not tall! They're also going beyond the usual gambit to bring to you a few tracks that don't fit into ANY category they've entered before: "Heat" is FUNKY! Heavy funky! And hilarious too, quite frankly, in an ironic Trans Am Miami Vice way (not sure if Aporelclystlpcisa meant it ironically, but if so, great work on the ironing! Now do my shirts!). Grammatical problem. I have two other songs to talk about. Let's try the colon trick again: "Pandemonium" is prog-math-metal ruined halfway through by a barfingly yucky speed viola solo that will totally gag you with a (metaphorical) spoon, dude. And here's another colon, so I can finish the paragraph: "Toreador" sounds like bullfighting music! With a horn crescendo climax and everygoddamnedthing!

Oh man, if you're into wearing pants, you GOTTA buy this album! It's PANTS-wearingly good! It's so good, when it's over you'll be wearing PANTS!

OH NO!!!! IT'S ALL COMING BACK!!! NOW I REMEMBER!! I WENT TO A CORPORATION TO HAVE ALL MEMORIES OF "PANTS" WIPED OUT OF MY BRAIN!!! BUT I WAS WRONG!! I WANT THEM BACK!!!! TECH SUPPORT!!! TECH SUPPORT!!!! I WAS IN A CAR WRECK AND NOW MY FACE IS DISFIGURED!!!

Shit, I totally just combined two movies, didn't I? Why, I'm a regular Todd Solondz! (*zooms in on a puddle of ejaculate*)