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Rating: Forget everything you ever thought was metalcore.
This nomenclature, now devoid of any meaning (because it is applied to bands that have nothing to do with metalcore), was originally used exclusively for post-hardcore bands with sounds reminiscent of Coalesce and Botch, as well as Thirty Called Arson. The Norma Jean belongs to this category.
After an EP and a full-length released under the name Luti-Kriss, these five American guys changed their name to Norma Jean (for those who don’t know, the real name of Marilyn Monroe), and in 2002 they released this “Bless The Martyr And Kiss The Child.” The impact of this masterpiece is incredible. The guitars are front and center: heavy distortions, almost always syncopated and cadenced riffs, structurally similar to nu-metal but completely different in sound. There are many breakdowns, a feature that would later be overused by the myriad of subsequent bands. The moments of calm are few, but when they are present, they are not the usual sickly-sweet arpeggios, absolutely not; an anguish born from Neurosis creeps between the aspirations and weaves atmospheres loaded with tension; it is incredible how there remains a sense of uncontrollable unease even in the most melodic moments.
Another essential characteristic is the drumming; sharp geometries, constantly changing, as if it were living matter; the first comparisons that come to mind are with the Dillinger Escape Plan and Converge, and indeed throughout the album, as happens with the aforementioned bands, there is never the impression of listening to something static and linear, so spontaneous is the mutation to which the rhythms seem subjected (moments in 4/4 are very rare). But this is not to be understood as an arduous search to appear original as happens in progressive metal; here everything has a sense of spontaneity and almost, to be romantic, sincerity. All this sonic apocalypse is amply supported by the voice; always filtered, in constant spasm. The exchange between blatantly hardcore growls and convergent screams only increases the atmosphere already overloaded with nervousness. Moments with clean vocals are almost non-existent; and as you can already imagine, when they are present, they are certainly not hymns to joy.
The most representative tracks are undoubtedly the first three, sometimes with excessively long titles (“The Entire World Is Counting On Me And They Don’t Even Know It,” “Face: Face,” and “Memphis Will Be Laid To Waste”) and track n°5, “Pretty Soon, I Don’t Know What, But Something Is Going To Happen,” a fifteen-minute suite in which all the musical characteristics of this American combo can be found.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
03 Memphis Will Be Laid to Waste (04:55)
Waltz around the room, with a glaze in your stare. In your tuxedo suit. I'll give it a name. Lower defenses. I'll lower the casket. Open the door. Open the grave. Murder. Now you're doing the waltz with your murderer. Waltz around the room, with a glaze in your stare. In your tuxedo suit. I'll give it a name. Lower defenses. I'll lower the casket. Open the door. Open the grave. Mediocrity is the killer.
You find yourself helpless. Christ is not a fashion, fleeting away. Fashion…
He laid emeralds in her eyes, oh but i'd already tried. A bracelet made of gold and scarlet thread around her wrist. And everything was wrong so we sang sentimental songs. Oh how seldom we belong but how elegant our kiss. and we painted crooked lies but we danced in perfect time to a love so much refined, we know not what it is until like a dullen wine we pour into a grief we know before but it's never quite like this. Never quite like this. All i know now is regret, it follows like a silhouette along the cobblestone behind me, but has nothing to say except to innocently ask, a voice as delicate as glass, "Do you see me when we pass?" But i continue on my way.
06 The Shotgun Message (01:37)
Staring at the world through the hole you put in my hand. That was caused by a blade you gently inserted. I did this for you, I did this for you, not for your religion, not for your patterns. I did this for you. I did this for a man like you. Stop searching and find Me. I am stabbed by grace and slinging blood. I’m slinging blood.
07 Sometimes It's Our Mistakes That Make for the Greatest Ideas (03:15)
It feels so good up to my skin.
One more mile and it is sinking in.
I’ve tried to make mine a tree.
And not have so much of me.
God has stolen my heart.
So I’ll write it down.
I’ll write it down.
My God has stolen up my heart.
And I’ll write it down, I’ll write it down.
I consume myself with invisible things.
Escape.
Congratulations.
(gradulations) This is my escape.
A pen and a book.
And if the world can see what I got, well then lets have a good look.
Because this is my escape, a pen and one book.
And if the world can see what I got, well then lets all have a good look.
A fortunate one.
08 I Used to Hate Cell Phones but Now I Hate Car Accidents (05:02)
Run far away from what you have created.
You have created this drama.
Dancing around the truth.
My God rain down power.
My God rain down fire.
War.
With these diamonds you cut your throat.
Code red.
Cut throar victim.
The outside looks so good.
It is so simple and yet they don't find.
It is so simple and yet they don't mind.
They tradegy is the ignorance behing the clean casket.
On the outside they look so good.
They are walking to wall street in a straight jacket.
12 Organized Beyond Recognition (07:28)
White tie, black jacket.
I ain't see you in a while.
Your whites shine, black velvet.
I ain't seen you in a while.
You're slick, a slick and polished mess.
I ain't seen you in a while.
Lets just face the fact and get back to the basic form.
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