Eye Theory

Eye Theory’s Vagrant Flock at first feels like Godsmack Jr., then Korn Lite. After that, the mind wanders — did I turn the oven off? The album contains some promising elements — the staggered waves of grinding, driving rock and the loud-quiet-loud-quiet vocal interludes — but the brooding, chugging, pounding, screaming, whispering interplay makes for a block of sound that’s too easily forgettable. There’s energy and intensity and passion, but not quite enough to prove that Eye Theory needs its music. The sound is polished to a rock-radio shine, but that only means it’s just a bit too anthemic and a smidge too redundant to distinguish itself from the modern-rock masses. Half the mosh-ready tunes are really love songs of a similar stripe. The scenario goes: Boy meets girl; boy and girl have relationship issues; boy writes series of strained metaphors about love as drugs, sports, cannibalism and misery in general. If it were witty or campy, it would be fun; if it were demented, it would be thought-provoking. But you get the impression that the songwriter is dead serious. (Just because I wear a dog collar and listen to Tool, if you prick me, do I not bleed?) Lines such as Sadness even took the furniture and You got me drunk with your beauty/You got me stoned with your smile/You got me stark raving hungry/Like I hadn’t ate in a while don’t exactly make the ol’ knees tremble. If Eye Theory truly wants its vagrant flock to follow, it’ll have to distinguish itself more from the madding crowds.