Finally, Zombie wastes an infectious John 5 riff on single-in-waiting “Burn,†a growling number that would be stellar without the presence of impossibly turgid “ba-bop-ooh-maw-maw†style vocals, and sets up the quasi explosive “Dream Factory†well before collapsing the piece without warning, cementing the final descriptive element of “HD2†as wasted momentum. While opener “Jesus Frankenstein†could have been on par with “Demonoid Phenomenon,†its unnecessary intro and garbled sonic elements jump all over the place in misguided fashion. The ominous foreboding bells and enormous riff saturating the opening of “Virgin Witch†gears up as tremendous metal, but the clichéd druidic chants that apparently pass for a chorus relegate the track to skip worthy. Inexplicably, the atmospheric layers of orchestrated doom collapse into an unimpressive four minute drum solo that entirely tarnishes the hard fought momentum earned.
A prime example is album closer “The Man Who Laughs,†a nine minute “epic†that opens like the gates of hell, captivating the listener with a “the monster is at the door†eeriness that is entirely satisfying for the first four minutes. Aside from “Cease to Exist†and “Mars Needs Women,†two of the most painfully, embarrassingly wretched efforts of Zombie’s career, the majority of tracks have areas of potential yet ultimately fail to deliver as a unified piece. The most glaring issue of “HD2†is a dire lack of consistency that prescribes wasted moments. Unfortunately for Zombie, the bulk of the record is awash in mediocrity, placing “Hellbilly Deluxe 2†on the shelf of disappointment.
Sliced into pieces, bolstered primarily by schlock rock bombast and the blasting riffs of guitarist John 5, “Hellbilly Deluxe 2†has enjoyable moments and a few redemptive qualities. Zombie even manages to recapture the infusion of metal and faux electronica on the massively catchy “What ?,†and effectively captains the blistering hooks permeating not one, but two songs about Werewolves. The over the top campiness of “Sick Bubblegum†may revile many with its lyrical reliance on the ultimate swearword, but the fist pumping, chugging intensity is insatiable, ironically enjoyed or not. Rob Zombie is once again worshipping at the shock metal altar of Rob Zombie, and in short segments the listener cannot help but come along for the ride.
#ROB ZOMBIE HELLBILLY DELUXE 2 RAR MOVIE#
The ill advised genre experimentation plastering his prior release, “Educated Horses,†has been jettisoned in favor of the old standbys pulverizing riffs, thundering industrial rhythms, comical, horror obsessed lyrics, and more B movie spoken intros found on a Wu-Tang family record. The problem facing Zombie circa 2010 is he has not touched musical relevancy for almost a decade, and despite the polished metal sheen and catchy bombast of new adventure “Hellbilly Deluxe 2,†it is unlikely his currently legacy will suddenly be catapulted back into 1998.Īnalyzing its most basic components, “Hellbilly Deluxe 2†is exactly what you would expect from a Rob Zombie project. During his prime it was not difficult to think Zombie was cool, and the primal atmosphere drenching nostalgic metal cuts like “More Human Than Human,†“Supercharger Heaven,†and “Dragula†made it pretty damn hard not to. From a musical perspective, Zombie has historically proven consistent at delivering the necessary goods to feed this beast. The bulk of his work, from the pulsating amusement of Astro Creep Two Grand, the campiness of films like “House of a Thousand Corpses,†or the chugging intensity of the first “Hellbilly Deluxe†installment prescribes Zombie’s greatest appeal is unequivocally derived from human nature’s most cartoonish desires. After all, White Zombie got its mainstream break because Beavis & Butthead thought “Thunderkiss ‘65†rocked. Review Summary: Although a return to glory days form is valiantly attempted, the finished product is unmemorable and rusty.ĭespite the captivating irony surrounding the fact Rob Zombie fancies himself an intellectual, there exists a non-exceptional, unyielding pre-requisite to turn your brain off in order to enjoy the schlock drenched forms of media bearing his stamp.
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