No surprise here: the best parts of this album are the parts that don’t have Max Cavalera’s heavy hand all over them. There are some gusts of freshness in here, but they are quickly smothered by your usual brasilishit. But hey, if that’s your cup of tea, have another swig.
★☆☆☆ This is a wildly uneven effort on every level. Vocalists, energy levels, and styles change midsong without warning or reason. The low points, if we’re being very honest, is whenever Max Cavalera or Troy Sanders open their mouths to sing. (Remarkable as it may seem, Greg Puciato’s vocals are a breath of fresh air every time you get to hear them here.) On the whole, this album is an interesting car wreck, but a car wreck nonetheless.
★★☆☆ As always, this Soulfly album suffers greatly from a seriously lacking self-editing. Here, you’re treated to some interesting (albeit already belabored) ideas, but heavily encrusted with the unshakable feeling that you’re listening to Max Cavalera noodling around without wit or reason. It’s a well-produced indulgence, but one that never lets you forget you’re in Max’s world, like it or not.