Six years in the desert and this is the end result... complete and total
devastation! The Nevada Six, or so they seem aimed and true on the back
cover, has nothing whatever to do with the "Silent" aspect in their name
and in fact a not-so-clever shield, if there was one, into outsmarting
their adversaries.
Fall Silent is in fact extreme music placed at the
end of a gun barrel and the trigger's about to be pulled... so immediately
slide back your perceptions of Hard-Core, Grind-Core, Speed Metal and
the like -- here's where a total obliteration of such separatist movements
as well as whatever senses haven't previously been dulled by the strains
of "Playing House," or "Never Before. Never Again," early on.
"Playing
House?" Had to take a quick pause to gander at the lyrics and yep,
"Playing House," which doesn't quite follow the impending noise churning
forth from its onset, but when you reveal subject matter based solely
upon death and the resultant pleasure, there's some indication that not
all is as it seems.
Fall Silent is a violent musical storm that not
many will be able to weather, nor should they be advised to try. "Hail
of Bullets" is about where it all ends for me -- only three songs in -- and I
can't remember hearing anything this sudden, this nasty, this
overwrought with anger since the last time I fell asleep in Sunday
school class... and everyone thinks they're so quaint and charming in
their cute black robes. Ha! Guess again! The latest of a burgeoning
breed of quick triggered Noise-corists, Dillinger's ace in the fucking
hole no doubt, Fall Silent's aim is true enough -- straight between the
eyes of all that lies at the foot of their irritation... all of which are
presented in no small abundance it would seem.
