AFI
Crash Love

After Dave’s platinum blonde, the white suspenders (diobono, WHITE!), the fornicating horde of rodents of Collodi’s memory, and "Summer Shudder," we thought the worst was over. Wrong. The demon of Miss Murder is more alive than ever, just as his stiletto is always sharper, never satisfied with sacrificial victims to be immolated on his glittering pop altar.

Yet things don't start badly for the Ukiah troop. In fact. Before delving deeper, however, a premise is necessary: the repeated obsession with why A.F.I. are no longer "Those who... East Bay hardcore" but have decided to embrace new experiences is unbearably boring and decidedly sterile, so it won’t be tackled here at all. Choices need to be contested, but also accepted. The guys know (knew?...) what they are doing, so let's see what they have to offer us.

The beginning of "Crash Love" is very promising; in terms of songwriting, it presents us with a more mature group, which has finally abandoned trivial expressions and overused topoi evoking gothic atmospheres where perhaps the band never truly belonged: Davey Havok sings with great sensitivity about love as a totalizing experience and the human experience, realized only through irreplaceable and unrepeatable choices; he whispers moved metaphysical instances that will never be collected ('Why live for pain in the name of love?' is one of the truly memorable lines from "Sacrilege"). Arrangement and mixing outline a less baroque and sumptuous sound compared to "Decemberunderground" and "Sing The Sorrow," calmer and muffled, aimed at favoring the listener’s introspection. In this context, "Torch Song", "Beautiful Thieves" and "End Transmission" are little masterpieces made of whispers, barely hinted sighs, delicate arpeggios, and soft reverbs: an example is the tapping in "Beautiful Thieves", a decidedly calmer version of the intro to "The Leaving Song Pt. II."

Suddenly, however, the mechanism, thus far perfect, seems to jam: almost to make up for a sudden lack of inspiration, from the flourishing past, confusedly evoked are handclaps, delicate carillon tinkles, call and response like "Bleed Black" and even the same "Morningstar": all of this shapes an admirable monstrosity without head or tail, that screams its emptiness through the ether.

The second half of the album is, in fact, full of missteps: the vocal lines are trite and (euphemism!) irritating, Dave’s voice (screaming is now a chimera) never shows its versatility and range and often appears monotonous and almost listless; the calm and mellow style of the album, far from allowing the slightest shift in gear, reveals itself as a double-edged sword, soon sinking the listener into a heavy stupor in which Hunter Burgan (practically absent: where have the powerful bass lines sculpted in that superb bas-relief that is "Synesthesia" gone?) and Jade Puget (the histrionic guitarist appears, in this latest effort, demure and uninspired: his forays into the solo realm have atrophied) are relegated to performing a task of mere sufficiency.

Strangely, a hope of resurrection seems to be offered by the big hit "Medicate." The song has a good drive and is much less mainstream than many others, just as well calibrated and studied are the stop 'n go and the rhythm that characterize it, but that bridge that imitates "Miss Murder" (which in turn plagiarizes "Fall Children") messes up all the good initial intentions.

Before closing, one last issue: why A.F.I. always proposes the best song of the album as a bonus track or b-side remains an unsolved mystery. This time, the disrespectful treatment (in relation to its qualities) is reserved for "Fainting Spells," which lifts the album a bit by evoking the airs and atmosphere of "Sing The Sorrow": here, pace changes, guitar barrages, unusually powerful choruses, and a Dave finally sharp and abrasive reign supreme.

So, a bad album, this "Crash Love," which slips into anonymity way too soon, after offering us a handful of truly remarkable pieces. Pieces that still reveal an ever-evolving artistic and creative vein of the group. It would be wise for A.F.I. to continue down the path of experimentation (new electronic contaminations would be welcome), while avoiding easy forays into the mainstream and the blatantly commercial, often hypocritically masked by bands as "attempts at innovation," of which "Crash Love" and "Decemberunderground" are sad examples.