Staind

"I'm not very good at pursuing redemption," sings STAIND frontman Aaron Lewis on "The Way I Am," the second track from his band's sixth album The Illusion of Progress [Atlantic]. Honestly, who is any good at redemption nowadays? The theme of salvation blankets STAIND's most cerebral and best offering to date. On "Save Me," Aaron bemoans, "Save me for the fuck of it." We could all use a little saving, and that's his point. However, honest music is the best way for Aaron to provide any kind of solace for his fans. STAIND never set out to save any souls, but they certainly dissect the daily struggle for salvation better than most of their contemporaries do. There's nothing illusive about that.

STAIND are one of those hard rock bands that saw massive fan and commercial success, but they never garnered what was due to them critically. They were unfairly associated with bands that they toured with, but never sounded like. Yes, they came up alongside Limp Bizkit and KoRn, but everyone has to start somewhere, and those were the biggest rock bands in 1999 when STAIND's first major label album, Dysfunction dropped. It's hard to fault them for that. Isn't it better to come up along with the top guns of any game?

Eschewing the nu metal tendencies of their peers, STAIND always leaned more towards classic rock, but not in the throwback sense. There are no boundaries for STAIND—especially on this record. Take the gospel choir that transforms "The Corner" into a rapturous dark symphony. Guitarist Mike Mushok fashions a vibrant soundscape out of prog-rock playing, while Aaron's vocals stretch beyond the choir's heavenly reach. Anything's possible in the context of a STAIND song, and Illusion proves that. Ever since their very first independent album Tormented, Aaron and Co. always showcased an acoustic sensibility, but they've honed it exponentially up to this point. For evidence, listen to "Tangled Up In You," one of the band's few traditional "love songs," and their best acoustic track since "Outside." It's finger-picked melody is both soothing and engaging.

This album shows STAIND moving into much more progressive territory without abandoning their knack for a hook. They've made a record that defies simple categorization and explores emotions on numerous levels—sonically, instrumentally and lyrically. The band adds in a terse piano outro to "Save Me," and its dark calm is enough to make Trent Reznor jealous. Mike's guitar oscillates from a warm, clean aural embrace to raw rugged riffing. A smoky chord arpeggio propels "Pardon Me" into space rock territory with off-time blues flourishes and a searing solo.

The first single, "Believe," mixes acoustic and electric guitars seamlessly in classic STAIND fashion. "All I Want" also channels that pop sensibility, but the band still get angry on the fantastically confrontational "Rainy Day Parade." Album closer "Nothing Left to Say" showcases a watery vocal sheen and a big bombastic lead. The backing rhythms courtesy of Jon Wysocki [Drums] and Johnny "Old School" April [Bass] lay the perfect foundation for Mike and Aaron to build these songs on top of.

Ultimately, The Illusion of Progress won't provide the redemption that Aaron discusses, but it mostly likely will provide a 13-song escape from everything. Isn't that just as good?

—Rick Florino
08.19.08

Staind seem to sneer at the very notion of forward movement on the title of their sixth album, The Illusion of Progress, and that disdain very well may be a Freudian slip, as the Springfield, MA, rock band stubbornly refuses to evolve over the course of a decade. If anything, with each album their aggression erodes and the angst of frontman Aaron Lewis mellows into a mild grumpiness that surfaces only when he's not singing profane songs of devotion, which is most of the time. Ballads have always been his forte, a convenient vehicle for his quivering sensitivity and accidental melodicism, yet it's still startling how slow The Illusion of Progress unfolds, as Staind rarely muster the energy to move beyond midtempo even when they deign to crank up their amps for anthems of mild alienation or vague inspiration. Instead, they prefer to spend their time plucking electrics as if they were acoustics, creating arpeggios that recall "It's Been a While" while sidestepping replication because this slow, stately crawl is now the sound of Staind: they're easy listening grunge, music for recovering extreme sports addicts. So, it should come as no surprise that The Illusion of Progress is filled with love songs from Lewis, a married father of three who pledges his commitment and chronicles his insecurities and dreams in moody minor chords; it's not just an album recorded at his home studio, it's about his home. As always, Lewis' sincerity is disarming and strangely endearing, as unlike so many of his posturing peers he seems like a genuinely good guy, which is enough to make it hard not to wish that he could break free from his inadvertent lyrical clichés, clumsy expletives, and obvious Bob Dylan allusions, to say something specific instead of something sweeping, but that would be progress, something that Staind don't desire because they're perfectly content with where they are. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide