Note the patched-together, but still singularly powerful, feel of "Sickman," the 5th track on the record. Primary song-writer Cantrell has transformed the band's signature half-tempo thumping into a faster and more experimental growl. The vocals proceed to ride a rush of music faster than what listeners may be familiar with from the first album. "Them Bones," the album's first cut, digs up Dirt with shrilling howls. The Chains' bass-driven sound grinds slow on Dirt, but Layne Staley (vocals, guitar) and Jerry Cantrell's backup's blend together to give the songs a more melodic flow than the typical drowned-out harmonies from the likes of Chris Cornell and Soundgarden. Their name implies unmarketable brashness, and the Chains made that implication a reality on their first album, Facelift, and have reincarnated this same as yet unrecognized talent for their second outing, Dirt.Īlice in Chains, despite sales that keep them far away from the Billboard best-seller charts, have created a sound that far surpasses the money-weakened punch of Metallica and the given-life-to-by-preppies ditties of Nirvana. There is, thank goodness, one germ from this burgeoning music scene that neither die-hards nor preppies have tarnished: Alice in Chains. Unless, of course, you're one of the invisible legions of pre-sell-out alternative fiends who slept and ate the likes of Metallica, Nirvana, Soundgarden, L7, Smashing Pumpkins and Jane's Addiction before those annoying bandwagoneers jumped on and spoiled the secret-you still love your bands, but you hate the tag-alongs. Without doubt, you've heard a sickening amount about the newest music craze in America, grunge metal.
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