Seven albums in fourteen years, overwhelming success, then the argument and separation from drummer Jon Wysocki (replaced by Sal Giancarelli, his drum tech). Frontman Aaron Lewis stepping away to embrace a solo career in country music, and the beginning of indefinite silence.
For over eleven years, the recording studio remained locked up tight, and Staind fans could only rely on the sporadic nature of their live performances.
In April 2023, after announcements and retractions, âLowest In Meâ arrives, the unexpected new single, twelve years after the self-titled âStaindâ, the last work of the Massachusetts band. The song precedes the new full-length âConfessions of the Fallenâ, which will hit the shelves in the fall, once the tour with Godsmack is over.
The bandâs peak period dates back to the early 2000s, coinciding with the release of their second studio album âDysfunctionâ and its successor, the five-times platinum âBreak The Cycleâ. Although Staind has been labeled by many as a nu-metal band (perhaps because they were discovered by Fred Durst and produced by his Flip Records), they have always had little in common with this genre. No rapping and little of the typical distorted guitars (though sometimes dark), but many elements common to post-grunge and alternative metal, today decisively distance the bandâs soul from its original placement.
Moreover, Aaron Lewis has never hidden his immense admiration for Layne Staley and love for Alice in Chains, so much so that he didnât miss the opportunity to demonstrate it practically with âLayneâ, included in the third album â14 Shades of Greyâ.
âLowest In Meâ impresses from the first listen, especially the purists of the Springfield bandâs sound.
The themes recurring in Staindâs discography are always dark and encourage reflection. They talk about depression, death, toxic relationships, addictions but also self-discovery, and there are ballads dedicated to love and family. This new single wants to play the nostalgia card, showing that it hits the target right away.
Aaron Lewisâs tone is reminiscent of the early days but is inevitably more mature. It starts from the depths of his soul, curled up in itself, and then explodes filled with anger on the choruses. The heavy and occasionally distorted riffs of Mike Mushok, reminiscent of the opening of âOpen Your Eyesâ, Giancarelli's powerful drumming, and Johnny Aprilâs bass push us into a dark yet familiar dimension.
The song expresses disappointment over human failure, regret for a relationship that failed to meet expectations, leaving only anger and bitterness. The âlowest pointâ has been reached, bringing chaos, destabilization, and wrath. Concentration is lost, focus is gone, leaving one in uncertainty and at the mercy of frustration.
Staind has the merit of delving deep into our souls, giving the impression of writing every single lyric after reading the thoughts of their listeners. Almost thirty years have passed since their debut, from that âTormentedâ (with its macabre and sickly cover) at the time misunderstood by patron Fred Durst, who refused to even listen to it, citing unlikely references to satanism. Dark episodes have alternated with melodic and reflective ones, in a prolific dualism, the architect of undeniable continuity.
Among many questionable Trumpist rants by Lewis, new side projects for co-founder Mike Mushok, a few spats, and many silences, we can admit that Staind is back. Or rather, we will be able to do so when we have a handful of new songs, accompanied, hopefully, by positive judgment. Artists, who are genius and unruliness, sometimes need a break to remember what they are truly capable of and where it all really began. Starting from the depths of the soul.