Author: Sandi Sadar Šoba
Artist: Stone Sour
Label: Roadrunner Records
Released: 2010
Length: 65:25
Rating: 4.1/5
In 2010 the life of Slipknot got some new milestones, invisible but deep lines that can never again be fully crossed, a whole new balance that has to be found. Put simply, time stood still after the death of bassist Paul Gray, and singer Corey Taylor and guitarist Jim Root both knew it. With the main artery of creative aggression shut, at least for now, it was time, four years after the critically and publicly well-received Come What (Ever) May, to bring Stone Sour back to life, to cast out the demons of pain and goodbyes.
The original sin, or the wellspring from which both Corey and Jim Root crawled into the music world, always leaned toward a more commercial sound and more conventional definitions of rock. This outlet for mining all kinds of melancholic, softer-sounding alternative tunes is reserved this time for an obituary and a tribute to a departed brother-in-spirit and one of the driving elementary particles of the masked nine. If Slipknot are metal, Stone Sour are the alternative-rock counterpart where Corey can let off steam while hunting for the softer tissue of his soul. Years ago Stone Sour was a safe harbor and refuge from the blood-and-brutality-hungry crowds, but now that the masks have come off, Stone Sour has become just as besieged a temple of musical worship. So Audio Secrecy is more of a whispered public secret than something totally anonymous and utterly intimate, and the commercialization and cashing in of tears of pain is, let’s be honest, a very pop-flavored mix of high-octane riffs and lighter, more ear-friendly melody. Stone Sour sound like a band with an epic sound, and the public display of mourning can easily turn into a mere stage pose that might repel many a sworn Slipknot “Maggot” rather than reel them in and leave them sobbing in a state of bliss and rapture, but let’s leave that kind of speculation aside for now.
On first listen, Audio Secrecy is a beautifully produced record that, across all fourteen tracks plus three specially added extras, leads you through the soulful and, at least going by the lines printed in the booklet, completely sincere states of farewell and mourning for Paul Gray. The first thing that jumps out and totally wins you over is the outstanding production, this time “committed” by Nick Raskulinecz, who has already squeezed the very best and most musically sublime out of Rush, Velvet Revolver, Danzig and his musical alliance, Deftones, the musical persona non grata Marilyn Manson and a whole little sea of others. Do I need to add that Nick Raskulinecz is also decorated with a Grammy and numerous other honors? By walking into Nashville’s Blackbird studio, Stone Sour settled for nothing but the best, and the third in their string of raids so far is aimed at total domination of the competition. The record is atmospheric, saturated with sugary, unstoppable surges of perfect riffs, and the lyrics of the incorrigible, forever perfectionist despot of the microphone Corey Taylor are polished in every detail. The layers of music and confession are thick and post-grunge perfect, and you’ll struggle to find a moment of pointless filler on the album. In that respect Audio Secrecy is entirely free of excess flab and needless clutter, and its almost too perfect cosmetic flawlessness serves up heavy riffs and sensual acoustics alike. The central axis of it all is the incredible guitar sound of the Root – Rand duo, with the rhythm section of bassist Shawn Economaki and drum despot Roy “Ratt” Mayorga sticking to it like glue. Corey Taylor is the main engine of this wild beast, and with his mic-taming and vocal-cord wringing he makes sure you swallow the album without reservations from the very start. The opening instrumental Audio Secrecy, with its piano minimalism, sets up a darker side of what will unfold on the record until its final plateau. A few poignant repeating notes build into the bombastic intro of Mission Statement, which hits with a Slipknot-like tempo, drum blows and a venomously catchy chorus, and the toxicity seeps from every pore long after you’ve lost the thread. On Digital (Did You Tell) nothing short of the best standard is acceptable. The words of farewell are devoted to transience, to the brutal fact of life that you’re here today and tomorrow you might be gone. A midlife crisis, or just the realization that nothing is a given anymore and nobody is indestructible or immortal? Calmer, and by previous standards “soft-cock”, the saccharine but sensible follow-up Say You’ll Haunt Me sounds, and the almost Alanis Morissette-style acoustic continuation Dying brings on something close to diabetes. Instead of an insulin shot, though, you get a slightly more metal dose from the melodic, anthemic Let’s Be Honest, and after the even heavier, sharper-toothed Unfinished we’re back to thinning things out with acoustics. We’re definitely not talking about a low-budget affair here, because Hesitate is without doubt the real stuff for lighting a thousand lighters at festivals (if indoor halls and smaller clubs weren’t more of a fire hazard …). Kerosene on the flames of those lighters comes from Nylon 6/6, which drives into your cerebellum with surgical Slipknot-style grips and commercial singalongs. The sine wave of melancholy returns with the delicate pasting of pain into the mosaic of grey and black-and-white images in Miracles, while the masterpiece Pieces carries on in the Nickelback-esque definitions of alternative. The Bitter End sounds like a missing Slipknot track, because in the rage of the vocals and the guitar cannonades, at least in moments, the images of the stage catharsis of the metal alter ego glimmer so damn clearly, but Stone Sour, as if trying to fool themselves or completely set themselves apart from that more violent entity, retreat once again to the refined sound of the ballad-like Imperfect. The regular part of the standard edition closes with the sensual meditation of Threadbare. Regret, the broken images of realized dreams and lost companions get a delicate veil of funeral shroud, embroidered in pop fashion. On the special edition the parabola continues, in the high revs of the hyper-energetic mantra Hate Not Gone, the acoustic pleiad of ballad standards that is Anna and the punchy finale of Home Again.
Audio Secrecy is an exceptional piece of craftsmanship that has every quality of a good and extremely listenable record. The rock quintet decided to blow out the old valves and, pain notwithstanding, keep searching for their wellspring of creativity. Stone Sour are, like a softened echo, a response to the goings-on on the big hellish fronts of Slipknot’s masked shadows. Audio Secrecy, as the third in the series, is truly an outstanding record, and the farewell to Paul Gray comes packed in a nice-sounding bundle of songs. The only reservation I can hardly shake is the fact that it would have been cleaner if the members of Slipknot had paid tribute to Gray’s memory with music. The parabola of ups and downs, metallic sharpness and cotton kisses of sentimental acoustics is without doubt darker than on Stone Sour’s previous excursions into the unknown. They’ve outdone their predecessor, but the level of sincerity and punch of the self-titled debut is, sadly, still unsurpassed. Maybe they’ll manage it the fourth time around. Neither Root nor Taylor, sadly, have any more distractions or excuses left in the form of their “main” job in Slipknot …
Lineup
Corey Taylor – vocals, guitar, piano
James Root – lead guitar, keyboards, backing vocals
Josh Rand – rhythm guitar
Shawn Economaki – bass
Roy Mayorga – drums, percussion
guest musician:
Stevie Blacke – strings on Hesitate
Production
Nick Raskulinecz
Tracklist
1. Audio Secrecy (Instrumental)
2. Mission Statement
3. Digital (Did You Tell)
4. Say You’ll Haunt Me
5. Dying
6. Let’s Be Honest
7. Unfinished
8. Hesitate
9. Nylon 6/6
10. Miracles
11. Pieces
12. The Bitter End
13. Imperfect
14. Threadbare
15. Hate Not Gone
16. Anna
17. Home Again
