What we got here is some old-fashioned plod-along power metal with death vocals by the sound of things right up front and center. What’s starting to get me about the metal scene in general is the amount morose mother-fuckers who make up the members of the bands. There’s so much joylessness in their ranks that I wonder how they all manage to live out each oppressive day of their life without jumping off a goddamn bridge into shit fucking creek. Even the album art of these bands is sad and sorrowful.
Daylightdies, with their unhappy bunched up name, has album art that’s simply a darkly lit purple curtain blowing in the breeze. It’s like a death shawl in waiting. All the lyrics are morbidly depressive bits of enjambed poetic train wrecks. It’s too much for me to take.
These guys need happy pills. Maybe some Saint John’s Wort for starters and if that doesn’t do the trick then lets dive head long into the pharmaceutical antidepressants. We’ll get these guys writing songs like “Zippity Do-Da” in no time. Fucking depressed mother-fuckers need to do some cheerin’ up before they blow their damn fool heads off. That’s what I fucking say. Fucking shit, man. Eat some ice cream, whistle, bask in the sun, romp in a glade with a litter of puppies, pick some flowers, have a dry vodka martini with some friends and drink to life, the future and the sun rising.