Face on Fire
Mr. Cruel’s Bedtime Lullabies
About 75 percent of what you need to know about Australia’s Face on Fire you can glean from the titles of “Cum Drunk Sluts,” “My Wife in Your Cock’s Pussy” and “Lick a Dick Day.” I’m betting about half of you stopped reading right there.
But if the adventurous among you were to keep going, you’ll find a band that’s not nearly as incendiary as their name may suggest, but not as deliberately retarded as some of their song titles may lead you to believe. Face on Fire bang out inoffensive, if unoriginal, grind with a vaguely Birdflesh kind of vibe to the song structures. And that’s a problem more immediate than their sophomoric attempts at humor. The upper register screaming is so monotonous in tone, tempo and delivery that it begins to sound like Dino’s yapping. The guitars often lack tone and distinction and the drums are just a background buzz, with the exception of “God is Fake, Wrestling is Real,” which rumbles with a nice intensity.
Face on Fire haven’t been able to cohere the pieces just yet, but there are flashes that they could get it together. Saving the best for last, “William H. Macy’s Mustache” boasts some ingenuity with its whipsawing riffs and curveball beats. Some time and maturity may work wonders on this young band.
You can give it a listen for yourself here.