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As far as theatrical productions go, a ballet can be beautiful and tragic and generally the best ones often are. On their latest CD, Bone Palace Ballet, Michigan natives Chiodos adopt those notions of theatricality and run with them.

Stylistically there is a marked difference between this album and their 2005 debut All’s Well That Ends Well. There are still spitfire guitar riffs and explosive drums, but in addition to the deliberate piano of the band’s keyboardist Bradley Bell, instruments like the cello, trombone, violin and even the French horn  make appearances on Bone Palace Ballet. Orchestral flourishes distinguish many tracks and provide the ideal musical backdrop for the bands incisive and mildly threatening lyrics.

Bone Palace Ballet is not brimming with happiness and sunshine. Front man Craig Owens sings (and screams) about eating flesh, peeling skin, and bursting brains.  The album’s final song even ends with the declaration “I’ve given up on the entire human race,” but somehow that dour subject matter doesn’t weigh the whole album down in misery. Much of that is due to the pairing of the band’s brash instrumentation with Owens’ singing, which is a mix of earnestly pleading vocals, high-pitched shrieks and almost inscrutable howls.

At just under 40 minutes and with only 10 songs,  Bone Palace Ballet contains more hits than misses, but its not perfect. While it is true that Chiodos falls squarely into the so-called “Screamo” category of the post-hardcore scene, its quite possible that Owens’ frequent screaming does little to benefit any song. As showcased in the album’s lone ballad-like song Intensity in Ten Cities, his voice is more than capable. So while there’s a certain emotive energy his howls brings, it’s a gimmick that quickly gets old.

One of the more memorable tracks is Life Is A Perception of Your Own Reality. It opens with a dramatic string arrangement (vaguely reminiscent of a luxury car commercial) that suddenly shifts into a toe-tapping rock beat. Add imagery-evoking lyrics like Owens saying he will ‘hang [his] vocal chords up on the door,’ and that’s pretty much the album’s entire concept at its best. So it seems that by tinkering with their sound - but not going overboard on the experimentation - and continuing to pen menacing-yet-entertaining lyrics Chiodos has managed to avoid the dreaded sophomore slump while still staying true to their roots.