The Crown was a good band; Angel Blake, not so much. Guitarist Marko Tervonen's decision to record a solo album seemed like an interesting move at the time. Writing all the music and performing all the instruments offered him the chance to really show what he was made of. Unfortunately, what he's apparently made of is the same milquetoast mediocrity as 90% of the "metal" of today. He's a capable musician to be sure, but good doesn't necessarily mean interesting. There's going to be more than a few people that'll probably like this album, and if it's marketed well should move quite a few copies. Disturbed does quite well too, but really, who's going to give a damn in a few years?
In the hustle bustle of an oversaturated Myspace world, a group like Angel Blake still doesn't mean shit to a tree, because there's nothing that sets them apart. A big reason for this is the addition of Transport League's Tony Jelencovich. Any hint of promise shown in the first vocal track, "Retaliate," is pissed against the wall with every subsequent song, making the album less and less memorable as the counter ticks by. You almost wish it was on 8-track (ask your dad, kids), so at least you have the program change to break up the monotony. The only way Angel Blake is going to be remembered is if a touring member of the band spontaneously combusts and shits himself on stage (because combustion alone doesn't cut it with the kids anymore) and even then, it'll just be a blurb on jabbermouth.net for anonymous assholes to post jokes about.
When all else is said and done, it's probably a good thing there's so much music out there, and it's nice to see heavy music getting more respect that it ever has before, but it also means there's a whole lot more of a quagmire to wade through for the discerning listener. Somewhere amongst every hundred Angel Blakes', there's a really great band that getting missed because no one's making the effort to look anymore. But, as I lower my arthritic joints down from the soapbox (my sciatica was acting up) and crawl into my orthopedic bed, I fall asleep and dream the dreams of the right and the just, knowing that while Angel Blake will no doubt be embraced by the youth of today, they will just as surely be forgotten by the youth of tomorrow.
