Adema
Adema

THE REVIEW

Looking back at my old reviews on Debaser, I noticed a very thin fil rouge running through my limping career as an amateur scribbler: a disarming passion for the losers without redemption. Those bands devoid of any talent that, due to fortuitous environmental circumstances, barely brushed success only to fall back into obscurity immediately afterward, like modern-day Icarus that no one will ever really miss. Useless bands, which never produced a hidden gem, a specialty for connoisseurs, whose cult will never be passed down by obsessive completers, but which have been forgotten in the folds of time for a good reason. The real losers, the freaks who, at the end of the movie, will not become the cool kids in school and will never get the cheerleader. The Second Division. The Eurospin of rock.

The Love Battery, the Letters to Cleo, the Boy Hits Car, the Gazzoleen. The indefensible NoRelax. Rather than listening to one of your albums again, I'd shoot a nail into my knee with a nail gun, but know that my heart beats for you. Mediocres of the world, I absolve you. And so we come to today's desperados, the flashy Adema.

These Californian toughs belong to the second generation of nu metal - they formed after the genre's peak in quality but before its commercial peak - and specifically to that all-muscle branch derived from Clawfinger, the same that soon led us to the likes of Disturbed and Drowning Pool. The fact that Clawfinger spawned a following does not reflect well on them, their followers, or rock music in general, but so be it. In short, Adema debuted in 2001 with their self-titled album and sold very well thanks to a fortunate astral conjunction: they intercepted both the aforementioned commercial peak of nu metal AND the golden era of frat boys, the beefy college jocks obsessed with the gym, arrogance, and football immortalized in countless American comedies. These oafs, within a few years, would become an invaluable mine of cannon fodder in Iraq, but in the meantime, they needed music that was as imbecilic, empty, and violent as possible; in the absence of the already expired Pantera, bands like Adema worked extremely well. They sold excellently, enough to open the doors to Ozzfest in 2002, the greatest achievement for a second-tier nu metal band. Adema was blessed with more success than the other unlucky bands I've mentioned, but it couldn't last because they arrived at the party too late: in 2003, the world turned to Fred Durst and collectively shouted YOU'RE DONE. Nu metal instantly and irretrievably went out of fashion: only those too big to fall survived and those with enough gall to push on nonchalantly (like Korn) or those brazen enough to turn melodic (like Slipknot). Adema, and some eight million other superfluous bands, collapsed. The second album sold a sixth of the predecessor, which was still enough to keep them going for a little while, but right after its release began the slow and endless carousel of lineup changes; subsequent albums sold increasingly less, media attention evaporated like butter on a hot pan. Wikipedia still lists them as active, I trust it.

Re-listened to today, Adema's first album has aged terribly. This might sound like the most basic understatement in the world, but Adema managed to age even worse than most of its contemporaries. It lacks the brutality of Slipknot, the sick allure of Korn (as much as it tries to mimic it), the provocative irony of Manson, the writing quality of Incubus, the generational appeal of Limp Bizkit, the ethnic influences of Ill Niño, the optimism of P.O.D., the eclecticism of System Of A Down. It has nothing, just inflated yet sterile guitars, pathetic teenage anger, a coating of plastic melody like Staind/Nickelback, and that radio-friendly epicness that Americans love so much; all in service of songs that aren't even awful - if nothing else, they have a decent groove - but were already stale and clichéd in 2001. Adema comes from a dystopia where Korn are the Beatles, Creed are the Smashing Pumpkins, Clawfinger are Nirvana, and their "Do What I Say" is "Smells Like Teen Spirit". The lyrics are a buffet of passive-aggressive variants of "You disrespected me and I want to beat you up". Their being so dull and rigid makes them as fascinating as a mastiff barking at you from behind a gate.

By themselves they would be harmless, but they have the demerit of having paved the way for an even more boorish and reactionary band like the abominable Five Finger Death Punch. In hindsight, their realm is providing the soundtrack to those videos of people getting hurt on Emule. I myself got to know them that way: their hit "Immortal" accompanied a compilation of fatalities from Mortal Kombat Deadly Alliance. It feels like ten thousand years have passed.