Isolated lines-plucked from thematic disarray-express love for another (“Swallowed”) and some optimism (“Distant Voices,” “Communicator”), however . . .
Hopelessness prevails. Lacking any genuine answers to life’s problems, the band invites listeners to wallow in the emotional mire with them. On “History,” a dying man moans about being “sicker than the sickest dog” and crassly asks someone to urinate on his grave when he’s gone. Darkness. Pain. Self-loathing. Even if the songwriter intends his disturbing lyrics as clever metaphors, lines such as “hell is where the heart is,” “ever closer to the blade/I am poison crazy lush” and “douse my head in flames” provide grim subtext. Instances of mild profanity don’t help any.
The overwhelming nihilism on Razorblade Suitcase gives parents ample reason to send this band packing. Young fans of the genre should give the Christian group Plankeye a listen instead.
