| Machine Head's Supercharger is, at its best, a monumental success. Since their searing debut Burn My Eyes, Machine Head have continuously exhibited that sadly rare quality--musical ambition. Not for them the post-Bush bleatings of Creed or the dumb bulldozing of Limp Bizkit. Machine Head attempt to create ever more varied and meaningful rock soundscapes. Take "Trephination" for example: as Robb Flynn pants his desperate tale of childhood abuse and a consequent self-hatred that can only be cured by a drill to the skull, the guitars buzz like medical instruments before reaching an awful sawing crescendo. It could so easily be clumsy and silly, but the execution is tasteful and effective. Elsewhere, there's the semi-humorous "American High", where a scratcher duels with the lead guitar, and "Nausea" where a horribly distorted guitar engages in a series of deeply unsettling descents--as with "Trephination", the music cleverly and admirably mirrors the lyrics. Elsewhere, there are extraordinary individual performances. During "White Knuckle Blackout", Flynn passes from a Dani Filth shriek through Layne Staley melodics to a furious rap, backed by a mighty guitar and what sounds like the buzz of a printer. During the maudlin "All in Your Head", the guitars rise from staccato riffing to a magnificent, near-orchestral sweep. Unfortunately, these exciting innovations make Machine Head's lapses into bog-standard contemporary rock all the more disappointing. Nevertheless, they should be proud of an album that's three-quarters brilliant. --Dominic Wills |
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