Prophets of RageProphets of Rage

First off – thank fuck they didn’t muddy the invincible legacy of Rage Against the Machine’s name. I am so fucking glad as a lifelong RATM fan, they didn’t use it. Prophets of Rage is apt; if RATM was divined upon high, these Prophets are just speaking in tongues.

I don’t want to wax lyrical on all the reasons why this album sucks. Because that would take forever. It’s missing a key ingredient, and the ingredient is this: the Prophets just aren’t angry enough in a world that’s perpetually outraged.

Chuck D (Public Enemy) spits “No hatred! Fuck racists!” and invocations to “Kill the dream, kill the vision, now listen.” What, listen? Are you fucking kidding me, Chucky boy? You have heard of Twitter, right? Where the worst minds of our generation thump saucepan lids together shouting “I AM SO GREAT! MY OPINIONS ARE MY VIRTUE, I AM SO GREAT!” No one listens on Twitter, and they sure as shit aren’t going to listen to you.

If RATM was divined upon high, these Prophets are just speaking in tongues.

B-Real’s (Cypress Hill) milquetoast call to Legalize Me is fucking stupid. B-Real, you live in California. You know pot is legal there, right? I’m sure you were one of the first to get the memo. It’s a stupid song with a stupid beat. It features a barely-there Tom Morello noodling around a bit for colour. Even he thinks it’s a fucking joke.

What set RATM apart from the pack was their funky punk rock with a furious MC on the mic. This, however, is just RATM doing rap covers, miles removed from their prowess as proud n’ powerful musicians. Take Me Higher, a lukewarm Red Hot Chilli Peppers ripoff, is about drones. I think. Hail To The Chief feels like generic 90s rap impoverished by uncleared samples, so they get RATM to fill in. What? Are you fucking kidding? Hands Up seems to be the only track with any real oomph, a call-and-return stadium fist-pumper. At this point, I am unsure why DJ Lord (Public Enemy) is in the band. At all.

Even when Morello wails like a siren in Fired A Shot, a double-barrel of Chuck D and B-Real should be a blast, but it just isn’t. It just doesn’t feel like anyone really wants to be there. For a bottle full of lightning, it sure is an empty vessel.

STANDOUT TRACKS: Hands Up
STICK THIS NEXT TO: Body Count, Audioslave, Whatever’s In The Bargain Bin