Rob Zombie
Educated Horses

THE REVIEW

Sometimes it's hard to be objective. Take dear old Rob, for example: he's been delighting headbangers with his unmistakable techno-groove metal for 21 years now, juggling between objective masterpieces (the phenomenal "Astro-Creep: 2000" by his epochal White Zombie, or his first solo effort "Hellbilly Deluxe") and other decent albums we might call "workmanlike" (pretty much everything else). Yet the very personal connection I feel with this Author (the uppercase is not accidental) goes beyond his music, beyond the quality of what he offers, beyond the mere judgment of how his records sound: simply put, Uncle Rob and I are attracted to the same themes, we adore the same "fantastic" B-movie-esque world populated by monsters, cannibal aliens, and scantily-clad dolls. We like the same things, basically. To put it another way, Rob talks about things I would talk about if I ever wrote metal pieces.

Adding to this his amazing career as a director, the deal is sealed: fifteen years ago, Rob had me spellbound from the first note; with his cinematic debut "House of 1000 Corpses," he did the same from the first frame.

Discussing the now well-known cinematic detour of Roberto the Undead would actually be out of place for reviewing any of his other albums, but in my opinion, in this case, it's necessary: his latest studio work, dated 2006, indeed comes after his experience behind the camera and therefore carries with it a typically cinematic mood and baggage.

In this sense, the themes of the album have not undergone major upheavals, since Rob has always accustomed us to consider his albums as mini-movies, at least narratively. If anything, he has definitively veered away from the frivolous '50s sci-fi in "Ed Wood" style to explore another underground very dear to him, that of freak shows and traveling carnivals, as also suggested by the artwork and at least one song, the evocative "The Death Of It All".

Returning to the music, the tempos become more dilated and introspective, while the song structure becomes more "traditional," favoring an almost hard-rock atmosphere over the classic somewhat rowdy and danceable metal. This is achieved by minimizing the electronic inserts and samples to a couple of female moans in the super-single "Foxy Foxy" and the usual dialogue intro borrowed from some unknown old horror film. Overall, Rob does nothing but express his overwhelming love for the Seventies, which in previous works was mostly expressed in an endless play of film and criminal record references from the decade in question and now expands to actual music.

On this album, what’s "Zombielike" is indeed only the voice, which remains mostly unchanged since the Eighties, while everything else has undergone a drastic upheaval thanks also to the addition of John 5 (if I say ex-Marilyn Manson, don't run away, please), a gifted axeman with a distinctive touch who assumes an almost "retro" approach here, well exemplified in tracks like "The Scorpion Sleeps" (already a CLASSIC) and the two semi-acoustic ones, the aforementioned "The Death Of It All" and "The Devil's Reject" (the latter inspired by protagonists of the film of the same name) with a vague almost western flavor. There are no shortage of more intense tracks, probably meant to shine in live performances (in which Our Guy excels), such as the highly enjoyable "American Witch", "Let It All Bleed Out", "Ride", and the overwhelming "The Lords Of Salem".

Ultimately, at least for the writer, a good album. And above all, in an ever more crowded metal universe of subgenres and fleeting trends, how satisfying is it to finally be able to simply call an album "HEAVY METAL"?