“There’s a devil on my back.”
To call Underoath a household name in the heavy music scene would be a massive understatement. The trilogy of albums starting with 2004’s They’re Only Chasing Safety are widely heralded as timeless post-hardcore and metalcore essentials. Following a disbandment and subsequent reunion, the band have managed to maintain their presence in the current scene. 2022’s Voyeurist was the most fully realised version of modern Underoath’s sound, with a dark and brooding atmosphere that managed to combine more accessible elements well. The band take their next step in developing their sound with The Place After This One.
Opening number “Generation No Surrender” begins the album with a confident foot forward but a shaky second step. Pulling from the chaotic hardcore influences of their past, the song has a feral aggression reminiscent of their classic album Lost in The Sound of Separation, with undeniably punchy and dissonance-filled riffs punctuated with frontman Spencer Chamberlain’s iconic, gritty screamed vocals. This hefty presence is however disappointingly derailed by the track’s main hook, consisting of a call-and-response gang vocal section that is an extremely awkward fit. The jarring contrast between these elements left me struggling to truly enjoy the song, feeling like two mismatched ideas forcibly stitched together.
Subsequent songs “Devil” and “Loss” follow in a similar direction and subsequently wind up with similar results. The former begins on a bouncy riff that leads to a fairly strong verse, with Chamberlain and longtime drummer and vocalist Aaron Gillespie trading lines in iconic fashion. Always one to experiment with electronic elements, keyboardist Chris Dudley’s presence on the track is very much felt in the production. Dropping into its climax mid-track with an explosive breakdown, the track fizzles out in its later half, repeating its peculiar, stripped back chorus and feeling somewhat empty.
The latter track begins on a DnB-esque beat before switching up into a raging, frenetic note with punk-style drumming from Gillespie and their iconic dissonant chugs courtesy of guitarist Timothy McTague. However, the song suffers from yet another poor, stadium chant-type chorus that simply doesn’t fit the song. Frustratingly, the song presents some truly hefty heavy sections, particularly in the breakdown, but the hook holds the song back massively.
“Survivor’s Guilt” might be one of Underoath’s worst songs ever written, with an unpleasant, thumping arena rock chorus that doesn’t suit the band in any way, shape, or form. Its electronic elements make an attempt to give the song depth, but the song doesn’t develop towards anything more exciting. The aggressive vocals don’t match the song’s lack of intensity whatsoever, and it’s this clashing of conflicting ideas that really set the theme for the entire album.
The album seems to have an objective to create as many massive sing-a-long choruses as possible, as evident on previous tracks and especially so on “All the Love Is Gone”. The hook mainly consists of the song title sung over and over in a very pop-oriented fashion. While pop influences are far from a bad thing in metal, the execution of this chorus is clunky and uninspired, which isn’t a good idea when the entire song is made to hinge on this hook. “Shame” follows in similarly misguided footsteps, rehashing the same uninspired ideas and structures. Dragging out the song title repeatedly yet again, it’s painfully cliché and devoid of any substance. Beyond the choruses, the verses and breakdowns of both tracks are serviceable at best, simply feeling like they exist to lead back to the hooks. The resulting tracks are tiresome and lifeless.
On the other end of the spectrum, the heavier tracks don’t fare much better. “And Then There Was Nothing” plays out like a paint-by-numbers heavy modern metalcore song. It feels like its simply going through the motions. What puzzles me is how underutilized the more chaotic elements of Underoath’s sound are, especially since they are so heavily used at the start of the album. Where they could have given much more presence to this track, they are instead strangely absent, leaving “And Then There Was Nothing” sounding very bland. “Spinning in Place” boasts frenzied, dissonance-laden low chugs and eerie leads, but make the exasperating choice to have clean vocals over the more aggressive instruments. This wouldn’t have been such an annoyance if they weren’t so blatantly off-key, sounding like the vocals for a different song were mistakenly layered over. The rest of the song clumsily stumbles about without much in the way of a satisfying conclusion.
“Vultures” features Troy Sanders of the legendary Mastodon, undoubtedly a massive feature for the band. Disappointingly, the track is yet another cookie cutter modern metalcore song, yet again trying and failing to pull off a crowd chant-type chorus with lacking verses. Sanders’ involvement feels inconsequential to the song, unable to contribute much more to such an uninteresting song.
Where Underoath tries to break away from tired conventions, the result is even more perplexing. The first single “Teeth” is the only song that takes a more electronic route, with heavy synth layers and drum machine beats leading the verses. It takes an EDM style approach, with the “drop” taking the form of a distorted guitar riff. The production on the guitars is overly stylised to the point of sounding ear-grating, and they make an attempt to use this to end the song on an impactful heavy note. However, the resulting mess of an ending section just sounds gawky and abrupt, forcefully amping up the intensity without enough of a foundation for it to stand on. At this point, it goes without saying – the attempt just falls through the floor.
Album closer “Outsider” takes a stripped back, vibey approach, heavily layered with electronics and vocoders. Normally, I would such a closer to be a fitting moment of reprieve, but given the bewilderment experienced after such a confusing album, this just ends up sounding anticlimactic.
It’s hard to point out the missteps of The Place After This One when the entire album feels like one big stumble. I truly struggle to understand what direction this album wanted to go for, with abrasive, chaotic sections mixing with arena rock choruses like oil and water. Where it isn’t disjointed and utterly puzzling, it’s just boring. Glimpses of the band’s classic sound are visible, but they ultimately fail to lend any substance to the album. It’s my sincere hope that Underoath are able to choose a more coherent direction next round, because this just isn’t it.
2/10
The Place After This One releases on the 28th of March via MNRK Heavy. Pre-order and merch links for the album can be found here.