It’s difficult, having interviewed Armored Saint drummer Gonzo, to approach this record with as much equanimity as usual, because his enthusiasm for the album was purely infectious. And, of course, this is not only a new Armored Saint album, but their first new album in six long years, the last having been 2020’s Punching The Sky. As bassist Joey Vera argues, “every album is a snapshot in time” and, as the title implies, this album is a very much a snapshot of the febrile times in which we live, providing a moment of pause in a world that seems to be spiralling out of control. The band, completed by John Bush (vocals), alongside guitarists Phil Sandoval and Jeff Duncan, have risen to the challenge, crafting a heavy, diverse album, that is the sum of all of the members’ influences and experiences to this point.
The record certainly kicks off hard. From the heavily reverbed guitar that paves the way for the stabbing riffs of Close To The Bone, it’s clear that Armored Saint are on a role with Emotion Factory Reset, the opening track bridging the worlds of Appetite-era Guns, Kill ‘Em All-era Metallica, Iron Maiden, and Aerosmith. It makes for a compelling, high-octane start that makes a lyrical plea for discussion over division, setting both the musical and emotional tone for the album that follows. The band keep the pace brisk with Every Man – Any Man, a dynamic, groove-laden song with a touch of Queensryche betwixt the harmonised guitars and pounding percussion. It all serves to get the adrenaline flowing nicely, while the climactic solo is a thing of wonder.
Having got the album off to a strong start, Armored Saint return to the dry riffing and raw-throated vocals of early Maiden with the surprisingly addictive Not On Your Life, while recently released single Hit A Moonshot positively explodes with its multi-hued proto-thrash riffing and taut vocals, the latter delivered by a fired-up John Bush, who just seems to be having a blast across the whole album. Indeed, when the accompanying notes point out that around 85% of Bush’s performances come from demo tracks, so as to capture the raw authenticity he brings to the table, you can well believe it – there’s an emotional presence to his delivery which is far more thrilling than the over-processed and airbrushed approach that seems to increasingly dominate certain segments of the metal world. The first half of the album wraps up with a very different piece of music. Titled Buckeye, it mixes classic Guns ‘n’ Roses with a hint of Soundgarden, moving from a stripped-back yet raw-throated introduction to a crunchy, mid-tempo groove that keeps you hooked, while neatly showcasing John’s impressive range.
Opening the album’s second side, the frenetic riffing of Compromise immediately sets the blood racing, while John’s vocal draws the track in a hard-edged, classic rock direction – melodic yet powerful and with riffs aplenty. It’s followed by another classic-rock-styled track titled It’s A Buzzkill, which finds Gonzo’s drums swirling in backwards reverb before he introduces a driving beat that has an addictive Steven Addler groove to it. The band start to ratchet the tempo back up on Throwing Caution To The Wind, which taps back into the Maiden vibe with which they opened the album. The result is a memorable track with a dirty groove and a cracking chorus that tucks itself away in the folds of your consciousness to pop out at unexpected moments.
It’s Gonzo who leads the way on Ladders And Slides, his drums sounding simply huge and paving the way for a cool song with a greasy riff, a brilliantly gritty vocal, and some awesome harmonies. An album highlight, it’s a perfect example of the band firing on all cylinders, working together to create a track that explores their range with style and substance. It’s bloody fantastic… As is the atmospheric Bottom Feeder, which hauls itself out of a miasma of shimmering guitars to take offer up some of the album’s heaviest riffs. Bringing this eclectic album to a close, the aptly titled Epilogue is a trad-metal rocker with a strong Maiden vibe, to the point that John Bush sounds uncannily like Bruce on the verse. It’s a fun conclusion to the album, but it cleaves so closely to its influences that you can’t help but wish that they’d bought things to an end with the much more interesting Bottom Feeder.
On the whole Emotion Factory Reset is a fantastic album, written and recorded with heart and produced with skill. The only slight misstep is the uneasy closing track, which feels more like a bonus cut than a genuine epilogue. Nevertheless, this is a minor gripe and, on the whole, Emotion Factory Reset is exactly the brisk, well-paced hard rock album we need right now. Bang it in the player, turn the volume up loud, and let Armored Saint take you away from the world for fifty-odd minutes. You won’t regret it. 8.5/10
