Slipknot

"America, what if God doesn't care?!" bellows Slipknot frontman Corey Taylor on "Gematria (The Killing Name)," the second track from All Hope Is Gone. It doesn't matter whether or not God cares because Slipknot does. Iowa's nine-man metallic battalion cares enough about their fans not to disappoint, and they care enough about their personal integrity not to sell out. All Hope Is Gone is Slipknot's best record yet because of those facts. It's also the best shard of metal to come out in 2008. Evolving beyond the progressive experimentation of Vol 3: The Subliminal Verses and embracing even more of Iowa's slit-your-throat death metal, All Hope Is Gone comes to life much in the way that Slipknot's self-titled debut did in 1999. This record lives, breathes and kills.

The album kicks off in ominous, epic fashion with ".execute." Taylor sounds possessed as he spews apocalyptic rhetoric about the failure of government, religion and the human race. It's creepy, and it takes hold like a silent killer in the dead of night. Don't think Jason or Freddy Krueger, but Hannibal Lecter. Slipknot get inside your head, and you can't stop them. The spell is cast on ".execute.," and after Taylor's end-of-the-world sermon, there's no turning back. The real fun begins on "Gematria." It's one of the band's fiercest songs to date. Stretching past the six-minute mark, Jim Root and Mick Thomson's sharp thrash riffs cut through a din of Joey Jordison's propulsive double bass drumming. Jordison's work behind the kit has become even more calculated and violent. Time changes abound, and his drums fuel this rollercoaster. Taylor lyrically slaughter one sacred cow after another, and the guitar leads are both scorching and entrancing. The track's bound to be an epic live staple on many tours to come.

After that headtrip, "Sulfur" simmers with a Satanically catchy chorus. Taylor oscillates like a guillotine between a guttural, piercing growl and gorgeously hypnotic melodies. His voice sounds better than ever. "Sulfur" also shows Paul Gray—one of metal's best bassists—bolting down a battering and infectious groove. Paul's bass provides an unshakable low-end throughout the album, and it's a crucial element to the band's menacing sound. "Dead Memories" brandishes all of Slipknot's best elements. One of the album's creepiest moments comes in the middle of that song. The guitar riffs break into a clean acoustic melody seamlessly in true Zeppelin style. Taylor's voice takes over, and it's eerily powerful.

Slipknot still surprises on the slower fare. Much like "Prosthetics," "Gently," "Purity" and "Danger – Keep Away," "Gehenna" takes the listener into the heart of darkness—the heart of Iowa. It's a long, slow burner that employs a pained, ethereal chorus a la Alice In Chains. The song traverses an entire spectrum of emotions, and it sees all nine members venturing into the dark. The album's one acoustic track, "Snuff" is especially poignant. The song spins a tale of love lost that anyone whose experienced relationship woes can relate to. As the acoustic rhythms resound, Taylor's vivid lyrics resonate.

Of course the other heavy tracks declare all-out war on the world. "This Cold Black," "Wherein Lies Continue" and "Vendetta" are diverse, snaky and unpredictable sonic powder kegs primed to blow. Each one showcases different facets of Slipknot's aural psychosis. Beginning with some polyrhythmic riff-and-drum bludgeoning, "Butcher's Hook" stands out. It highlights the band's mastery of the loud-soft switch. Another song to do that is the first single "Psychosocial"—which becomes a bouncy and brutal romp. The title track, and album closer, "All Hope Is Gone" functions as Slipknot's 2008 mission statement. From the black metal breakdowns to Root and Thomson's fret-burning solos, it's pure metal mastery.

For iTunes downloaders, there are two treats—"Child of Burning Time" and "'Til We Die." Both songs function as forlorn space rock like only Slipknot could muster. Root and Thomson prove to be two of the genre's most diverse and important axemen, drawing from both Radiohead and The Beatles for big melodic guitar rhythms and soulful solos.

In the end, Slipknot cares. They've completely bared their souls once more, and even though "All Hope Is Gone," Slipknot has saved heavy music once again.

—Rick Florino
08.26.08

There comes a time in every band's life where they take off the masks and grow up -- then again, maybe not, as Slipknot have managed to dig deeper without ever shedding their grotesque veils. They're still wearing disguises but they have shed producer Rick Rubin, the metal legend who produced 2004's Vol. 3: The Subliminal Verses, giving the nonet just the slightest hint of broader horizons beyond their relentless aggression -- not enough for the band to crossover, but perhaps enough to earn grudging respect from listeners outside of metalheads. Of course, such respect is hardly granted to bands that wear monster maggot masks, so Slipknot's retreat to ugliness on their fourth album -- a move telegraphed heavily by the cheery title All Hope Is Gone -- isn't entirely surprising, nor is it unwelcome as this isn't a regression, it's more or less a consolidation of strengths. Certainly, the album gets off to a throttling start with "Gematria," a cluster of cacophony and for the longest time on All Hope it seems as if Slipknot will never let up on this pressure, as this is an onslaught of densely dark intricate riffs. So effective is this onslaught that when things do get a little softer a little later on, the album threatens to collapse like a soufflé, but that's only because the slower moments emphasize the group's odd tendency to sound like anonymous active rock when they untwist their rhythms and lay off on the double bass drums. Nowhere is this latent tendency for macho schmaltz more evident than on "Snuff," a stab at a power ballad that sounds disarmingly close to Nickelback, a bewildering incongruity that feels even stranger given the album's otherwise merciless attack. One more power ballad like this would be enough to derail the album, turning it into the crossover Vol. 3 never was despite Rubin's flourishes, but All Hope Is Gone as a whole winds up being as bleak and unforgiving as its title. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide