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Gunshy Assassin Presents The Worst Of 2013

The Worst of 2013
The Worst of 2013
Another site may have bitten the idea and rushed to get their list done before I could this year but, fuck it — this is something I’ve done every year since the site’s launch three years ago, and 2013 will be no different.

What a year it was, right? The Lostprophets guy was busted for kiddie porn and child sexual abuse, the As I Lay Dying singer was collared on charges he attempted to hire a hit man to rub out his old lady, Randy Blythe of Lamb of God was cleared of erroneous charges in Prague and got a book deal, and the dude from Nachtmystium was busted for being lame and ripping off his fans.

Some rather awesome bands toured together, ugly Christmas sweaters became a thing, and Kirk left fucking Down. Hell, Joey left Slipknot in 2013, two versions of Queensrÿche released albums, and we lost the likes of Jeff Hanneman and Chi Cheng — while nearly losing Lemmy.

The entire year, Tool record rumors continued to plagued us — as they will in 2014 and beyond. It was a nutty year, man. One filled with releases, the majority of which were somewhat decent. But ten releases were so disappointing, fell sooo short that they deserve to be singled out as one of the worst to be released all year. Here now folks is Gunshy Assassin’s annual list of the ten worst records to come out.

My annual list is a tribute to tripe, and is based — largely — on both my own personal tastes as well as the expectations some of these albums inspired… expectations they admittedly were probably incapable of matching.

Did I listen to every metal album released in 2013? No one did, asshole. I listened to as many as I could, making it a point to always check out those the general public would agree to be important or somehow significant.

The Wild Hunt
The Wild Hunt

10. Watain’s The Wild Hunt

Of all the album’s on this list, this is the one I had the highest expectations for — without question. And to be fair, not all of the songs on Watain’s newest record are “bad.” Just the vast majority of them.

If this were the first and only Watain record you had ever heard, I wouldn’t blame you if you thought it was fucking stellar shit. But compared to their previous output, which is most imposing, this album just doesn’t hold up.

The moment I knew this Watain record was not like the rest was when I heard that waste of eight-and-a-half minutes called “They Rode On.” It is right in the middle of the album and isn’t just Watain’s worst song, but may be one of the worst songs in recorded history.

An immediate skipper. If you actually look forward to this track when you throw on this record, I feel bad for you.

Overall, I just felt like this Watain record was overproduced, rushed, sterile, and just lacking in overall grimness.

Maybe I’m just a jaded fuck who knows what black metal’s supposed to sound like, and this shit, to me, sounds kind of forced. Disingenuous. Hollywood-ified. I guess we now know what happens when black metal gets money and girlfriends.

9. Alice In Chains’ The Devil Put Dinosaurs Here

The Devil Put Dinosaurs Here
The Devil Put Dinosaurs Here

Fuck, man. Just…fuck. I loved the album title, I love the band, especially after that return LP they issued was so standout. But this album just never managed to grab me.

I listened to it perhaps more than any of the other albums on this list, but just could never — over the months in the car — latch onto a single song and declare that, “Eureka!,” I had found a good song.

But these songs are just…not great. And I hate to say it. I truly do. And maybe my expectations shouldn’t have been so high, but…fuck. This album’s not worth more than two spins. By the second spin, you’ll realize you don’t ever have to repeat that mistake again.

8. Five Finger Death Punch’s The Wrong Side of Heaven and The Righteous Side of Hell

This is the eighth worst album of the year only because, compared to some of the others on the list, I had zero expectations going into the Five Finger Death Punch double album onslaught — the first of which boasts a cameo from Judas Priest’s Rob Halford.

My only expectation, of course, was that it would be, in the words of Zakk Wylde, “totally gaysuck.” And gee, was I right!

This band makes me embarrassed to be an American. There, I said it.

That such horseshit could originate from our fertile soils is mind-fucking-boggling. No wonder the terrorists want us to all burn in fiery jihad — we award mediocrity with riches and most of the fucking nation embraces poop like Five Finger Death Punch as musical mana from heaven/

But Five Finger Death Punch’s newest releases, like their previous offerings, pander to the lowest common denominator of malcontents. And soldiers. I have no problem with soldiers; bless them for protecting my freedom to hate Fried Flounder Tartar Lunch’s music. But let’s face it: many brown people have been killed by soldiers who may have even pulled their triggers while listening to this shit.

You know I speak words of truth.

I listen to this band, and all I can think about is NASCAR and MMA, and feel an urge to rock Tapout gear, buy ammo and camo, and take up chewing tobacca. And I do mean tobacca.

This is the soundtrack for ignorant tough guys who don’t give a fuck if they’re spreading HPV around like lox across a cinnamon raison petri dish.

Goliath
Goliath

7. Butcher Babies’ Goliath

Oofa! Where do I even begin with this colossal mountain of wannabe-metal bullshit? Let’s forget the fact that the two female “singers” in this band used to wear pasties and, for a time, performed live with their exposed titties all a flutter. That was just a gimmick, and has nothing to do with the band’s terrible music. It’s honestly a gimmick I wish more female-fronted bands would employ, but that’s because I’m a dirty pervert.

Let’s focus just on the music, which is what I did. If you like the sound of constant, grating screaming mixed with breathy, faux-sexualized female vocals over Meshuggah-meets-Marilyn Manson atmospherics, then perhaps you thought the Butcher Babies’ album was fucking sick.

But, let’s just say that if I had the talents of Josh Wilbur at my disposal, I’m sure I could create an album ten times better than this generic tripe. There is absolutely no difference, as I can see or hear it, between this band and In This Moment, especially from a lyrical standpoint.

I feel like these chick singer’s are always ranting about “scars you’ve given me” and fucking being in denial and trying to be strong and shit, and it’s fucking irritating to me, for some reason. I know band dudes write similar lyrics all the time, but I don’t like those bands either. They’re annoying.

This band is straight-up annoying. That’s what it is. The epitome of it. Annoying and hackneyed.

I truly hope this awful, polar-opposite-of-endearing group doesn’t inspire a single female to follow in its footsteps, because we’re going to be forced to listen to a lot of garbage in the future. And the teenage pregnancy rate will be immense.

6. Ghost’s Infestissumam

The perennial argument on Facebook (at least over on the old Gunshy Assassin page) is whether Ghost are a metal band or not. Very clearly, they’re not metal. They’re a hard rock outfit with Satanic tendencies and dark leanings, but I don’t even actually trust either.

It feels forced to me and put on (even when I saw ‘em live). But that has nothing to do with the music.

Infestissumam
Infestissumam

After loving the first Ghost opus, my expectations for this second heaping were high. I immediately hated the album, admittedly, but later, actually gave it another chance. This was months ago, and I drew the following conclusion — one many of you may have arrived at yourselves even long before reading these words: Two, three tracks on it are good, and the rest of it is pure hogwash.

Yup. I said fucking hogwash.

You know I’m right. And yes, I am sure Infestissumam will make year-end lists on all the usual suck-ass suspect sites, because Ghost are on a label that still funds album releases with promotional dollars, but it’s true: This album has a couple of decent tunes, but on the whole, is bore-ring.

And the schtick is getting old, Ghost. Reveal thyselves; stop hiding behind your bullshit masks, like some gutless bloggers we know.

5. Trivium’s Vengeance Falls

My disdain for Trivium has been established over the site’s existence, just as my hate for Fine Fingered Monkey Haunch is now well-documented.

But the Trivium I hated on in the past is not the same Trivium that released this record.

This is a much different Trivium…one infected by the stinking influence of David fucking Draiman.

This record sounds like the album Disturbed has always been trying to release, but could never figure out how to. So, for Disturbed, this would’ve been a triumph; for a band like Trivium, though, it was a step backwards, into the wading pool of hard rock horrors.

Usually, I expect this band to take sideways steps. But backwards ones? That, I was not expecting, dude. Every song basically sounds the same to me: like a shitty Disturbed tune. And that Misfits cover already had Danzig rolling in his grave, and he’s alive and well, and still loving kittens.

I wonder two things: If their guitarist is pissed he wasted some of his best Iron Maiden ripoff riffs on such a shit set, and if, at some point during the recording sessions, Draiman specifically instructed Matt Heafy to impersonate him. And Jamey Jasta of Hatebreed. Tell me you don’t hear both at points in Matt’s voice on the new one, and I’ll tell you about this fucking bridge you should jump off.

The Device album cover
The Device album cover

4. Device’s self-titled debut

Before, when I wanted to listen to shit, I’d go down to the dog park, wait for a doberman or collie to start crouching, and then, get into position so I could catch the animal’s steaming caca in my bare hands before then taking my index fingers, and funneling the still warm poop into my fucking willing ear canals.

But now, thanks to Disturbed frontman David Draiman’s new baby Device, I can avoid those awkward trips to the dog park.

Owners don’t like it when you hover over their shitting dogs, I can tell you this much. They look at you like you’re going to try and fuck it.

Track after techno-imbibed track, I get my regular quotient of shit, and fulfillment is mine.

3. Black Sabbath’s 13

Let’s start off with the fact that it’s just eight songs. Yes, most are longish, but where I come from, that’s a fucking EP. They couldn’t squeeze out two more piece of shit songs to make it feel like a true waste of my time?

Did I waste my time listening to Black Sabbath’s 13? Hell no. It’s a Sabbath record. You have to listen to it. Bill Ward or not. But am I going to hop on the fucking bandwagon and tell you I felt like it was an accomplishment in a year otherwise filled with outstanding efforts? Nope.

Beyond Tony Iommi’s impressive (as expected) riffing, tell me what was so outstanding about the record? The drums had me bored out of my fucking mind. I kept waiting for them to pick up the pace, but nope. I find it hard to believe Bill Ward couldn’t hang with those snail-paced drum parts, because they came across as just…tired. Like Ozzy Osbourne’s voice and lyrics on this fucking disc.

13
13

Strangely, I also can’t recall — over a handful of punishing listens — even noticing Geezer Butler’s bass contributions, and I’ve got the bass cranked in my car, where I usually listen to music. I don’t even remember hearing them, that’s how ineffectual they ultimately were.

The entire rhythm section took a shit here, if you ask me. And Ozzy sounds like he’d just like a cup of tea and a fucking nap already. Let the dude retire, please. Before he works himself into a coffin.

2. Megadeth’s Super Collider

Somebody, pull the fork outta Dave Mustaine’s bloated neck, ‘cause it’s over, Johnny…fucking OVER!

Man, where to start with this shit show? To me, Dave’s vocals sounded somewhat — I don’t know — frail, the solos seemed recycled, the lyrics had to have been written by a 12-year-old named Billy who is obsessed with Def Leppard and magic, the drum’s come across as computerized, and generally speaking, at no time did I find myself latching onto a single, solitary moment.

Usually, a hook or a rhythm will inevitably take hold of me for a second, and I’ll find myself headbanging or an eyebrow will go popping up in noted surprise — but not with these songs.

In fact, I couldn’t wait for most of the album to fucking end. I found myself thinking, “That was only the third track? When will this fucking thing stop?”

It was around “Dance In The Rain” that I recall thinking, “Don’t try to relate to me, Mustaine. Don’t you dare.” It doesn’t seem genuine.

I think I’d rather listen to audio of my wretched ex-wife and her new boyfriend boning than ever have to listen to this shit album again.

Revolution Rise
Revolution Rise

1. Kill Devil Hill’s Revolution Rise

Try this: Burn this CD for a friend, but instead of writing “Kill Devil Hill” on it with a Sharpee, write “Urinating Dogs.” Or “Templars Of Destruction.” Just jot down some made-up band name.

Then tell said friend its music from a band that you’re thinking of investing a significant chunk of your life savings into; you want to fund their upcoming album sessions, you should say, before telling this friend you are dead serious — this could be your chance to break into the music business.

If, within 48 hours, they don’t try to stop you, drop them as a friend. For good. They don’t give a fuck about you, dude.

The only reason why this album was made, and why this band’s able to tour as it does, is Rex Brown, the band’s most noted member, was in Pantera.

But Kill Devil Hill — which sounds like it’d be a good name for a bad video game — is no Pantera. It doesn’t even come close. This record sounds like what I imagine an Alice in Chains collaboration with Zakk Wylde, on an album of Stone Temple Pilots covers, would sound like.

Yeah — that awful. I’m telling you, this record was — along with disjointed, scattered, boring, and unfocused — a complete waste of 40-some-odd minutes of actual living I will never fucking recover. Just a colossal piece of shit.

Hell, this album would not have been considered good if it had been released during the 1980s, if you know what I mean — and I think maybe you don’t.

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