There was a lot of breath held over the release of Staind's
Break the Cycle. The band was riding a dual wave -- an underground tide from the success of their heavy debut,
Dysfunction, at the same time as they were enjoying pop radio success from Aaron Lewis's acoustic single
"Outside," featured on the
Family Values 1999 CD. The problem, which went largely unstated preceding the album's release, was to satisfy both of the band's sounds at once: chunky, heavy tunes and angst-ridden acoustic selections.
Break the Cycle at last came out, and it became readily clear that, with a few exceptions, the band had mucked around in between their two sounds. Unlike a good political compromise, which is
supposed to leave no one satisfied, this album dropped a good bit of Staind's potential as a result.
The album opens on a lackluster note with
"Open Your Eyes." To guitarist Mike Mushok's credit, the track's opening riff is actually one of the band's most punishing, with brutally low sections and squealing harmonics alternating quite punctually. But cue Lewis, whose vocals are monotonous throughout the track's progression, with tremendously bad lyrics. Lewis revealed after the CD's release that these lyrics were written in his adolescence, and it's easy to see that there's a reason most adolescent poems are left behind in our later years: "Most of you don't give a sh*t / That your daughters are porno stars / And your sons sell death to kids." This track also sets the precedent for Lewis to scale back his vocals in an uninspiring manner. While the melodies stretch a bit further, the raw edge and power, not to mention the screaming, that made
Dysfunction so successful seem to be missing altogether. And while these elements do resurface as the album progresses, many tracks seem to waffle in the weak middle.
"For You," the band's final hit single from the record (out of a surprising four), is repetitive, chunky blather that complains about parental neglect, covering ground that nu-metal tapped out years ago (the song's explosive bridge gives it a potent edge that keeps it from being entirely skippable, though).
"Fade," another big single, meanders around itself slowly, and despite an impressive choral melody, comes off as a tune much weaker than the band might have made it.
"It's Been Awhile" tries to stand perfectly on the fence between the band's acoustic fare and its heavier tracks. But we all know what happens if you stand on a fence and fall wrong -- it hurts, a lot. And that's precisely what this track does after a few spins. Finally,
"Warm Safe Place," a song from Lewis to his wife, is the most bland, skip-worthy fare on the album, hearkening back to the unlistenable
"Me" from
Dysfunction. The track's melody is stagnant, with little verse/chorus contrast, and the "I miss you, love" lyrics are a weak contrast with the band's gloomy distortions and power chords.
All that said,
Break the Cycle still comes out with a few tracks that make the CD worthwhile for the band's established fans.
"Epiphany" is arguably the only single of lasting value to come out of this CD. The all-acoustic track gives Lewis a chance to display some unfiltered passion without the forced calculation of the rest of the album's slower tracks. This is especially reflected in the track's simple but captivating lyrics: "It's always raining in my head / Forget all the things I should have said." By contrast, the band also offers up two heavier tracks that bring back glimmers of the unfiltered potential Staind once had.
"Can't Believe" is composed almost entirely of Lewis's guttural screams, with brooding melodies lingering behind the chorus. The track's guitars alternate between tense leads and punishing riffs, with drum work that upholds the whole mix poundingly.
"Change" blends this genuine fury with some Lewis melodies in a way that makes the listener wonder why such an expert blend couldn't have been duplicated more throughout the album. The punk-speed guitar/drum interplay mixes the verses, with an intensely broken-down screamed bridge and choruses that slowly pile on levels of intensity for a heavy finish.
The band's remake of the already-overplayed
"Outside" gives the track a surprising edge, but still seems to get lost somewhere in between quiet pain and heavy rage. Still, the new breakdown on the track's bridge, where Lewis is singing his lungs out, is a new reason to keep hitting the track up, even if you've heard its predecessor a hundred times. Finally,
"Waste," a sort of letter to a fan who committed suicide while listening to the band's music, is almost spine-chilling on the right days. Lewis is truly exploratory on this track, begging for an explanation and justifying his own motivations for making dark art. By the track's bridge, where Lewis screams in frustration, "F*ck that, and f*ck him, and f*ck her, and f*ck you / For not having the strength in your heart to pull through," the track comes to a poignant peak.
For all of its qualified strengths, though,
Break the Cycle still epitomizes the ever-dreaded sophomore slump. Staind truly struggles to capture one identity here, getting trapped perilously in between the two. The raw, unmitigated fury of
Dysfunction only pops up once or twice here, and the untouched, plaintive acoustic strains are only left unfiltered once. Everything else lands somewhere in between these two successful variants of the band's talents, leaving a listening impression that's just a bit too shallow for a permanent effect. The band's tracks flirt with success at times, but
Break the Cycle is really an album without a core -- something for serious fans to appreciate and ponder, without being worthy of all the success that was so briefly showered upon it.