Austin Sound

It’s a truism of rock albums that the concept record is a tricky undertaking, perhaps even more so in our digital age that is so sadly far removed from album-oriented listening. The problem of the concept album is compounded when the songs attempt to tread double allegorical planes, as The Human Zoo does. Ostensibly, the debut LP from Death is Not a Joyride delivers a commentary on the contemporary paralyzing and trapped human condition through ten songs using circus animals their subject. Thus, the album is not just a PETA plea, but one that attempts to run deeper with correlation to our own human existence. Unfortunately, it rarely comes together on either level very effectively.

The dark gothic impulse of DiNaJ is given full range on the album, and to see them live is always an incredible experience. Production from the Paper Chase’s John Congleton would seem to fit their schizophrenic bursts well, but on record, especially one as heavy-handed as The Human Zoo, the angsty wails overpower a lot of the unique qualities of the band. Musically, there are number of stellar moments on the albums, such as the amazing screech of guitars and viola on “Sleeping with Skeleton Keys.” Andrew Noble’s strings are fantastic throughout, expertly controlled or unleashed, dramatic but not overly so and with shades of classical, gypsy, and Celtic influences emerging throughout. Likewise, Lionel Gonzalez’ guitar strikes continually surprising tones that work in perfect conceit with the strings. A song like the 10:30 minute “Bread and Circuses” displays an excellent play between the two, with John Gouda’s drums proving perfectly placed in broken rhythms behind.

The primary drawback for the album lies in the lyrics and Kacy Ritter’s vocals, which have, of course, a huge impact on the whole. Ritter’s voice overloads the drama, turning the existential dread into overly-emoed angst that never lets up. At its best, the singing works toward Denali’s considerable impact, but at its worse, toward Evanescence. And the latter is ultimately more common. Opener “In the Mind of a Pacing Tiger” explodes at first with promise behind pounding keys that recall the Dresden Dolls. But as Ritter hits into the highest registers and spits out none-too-subtle lyrics like “As tiger held captive, my senses defray. This box, it embitters, while instincts decay” or “I pace without love, and that’s the way it is,” the result is a complete lack of nuance that a successful concept album would require, especially one delivered in such hyper-dramatic fashion.

“Masochism of the Trade” brings forth the parallel in the concept most overtly (“Just understand that you’ve got me tied down like an animal”), but “Chiffon Tutu, Dancing Bear” is the most absurd. Exploding in a dervish of keys, the onslaught is almost unlistenable. The triptych tale of Willie B. the Gorilla that makes up the heart of the album is a chore to get through, though the scattershot drum machine of “Part 1” works well as entry into the hypnotic tale. But the vocal fluctuations across the record from shrill, cathartic screams to low, Billie Holiday-aping moans feel consistently forced and unnatural. The power that Ritter carries in her voice can’t be underestimated, but she seems to not yet have mastered control or deployment of it.

The instrumental parts of the album calm the whole, and work to somewhat alleviate the exhausting fury of vocals elsewhere. “Rats At the Fair” is starkly eerie, sounding like it could soundtrack the impending stalking horror of Michael Myers from Halloween, especially as it breaks into a scruff of guitar and industrial doom. And the middle of Willie B.’s saga is a beautifully mournful dirge behind the viola and softly plucked mandolin.

Death is Not a Joyride is an exceptionally promising band, offering so many unique and stellar elements to their sound that if they can bring them all together into coherent voice, would no doubt capable of producing a mind-blowing album. That is also the problem with their originality – there is no real middle ground between exceptional and disastrous (and presenting a concept album as your debut almost confines it to being one or the other). Though The Human Zoo falls toward the latter, there is enough to hope that their second effort will prove better – more nuanced, less dramatic, and discovering an appropriate outlet for Ritter’s undeniable capable voice.

Websites:
http://dinaj.net
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