Whilst it might be considered axiomatic to point out that artists are no more or less prone to human failings than anyone else, they are so idealised that public transgression can be met with the harshest of responses. Moreover, where the decision to follow an artist in the wake of a given incident was entirely individualistic in the pre-internet era, now an instant online debate rages between those who are willing to offer a second chance to the repentant (and, in some cases, to the remarkably unrepentant) and those who feel that one should never support the artistic output of a convicted felon. Moral standards in this respect are far from universal, varying from genre to genre and with respect to the perceived type of crime. In the case of As I Lay Dying, the reaction against Tim Lambesis’ conviction for attempting to have his own wife murdered was immediate and visceral, something that was arguably exacerbated by the fact that the band had been strongly associated with Christianity and its tenets, even if not specifically marketed as Christian metal.
Ultimately, the decision to back AILD will come down to two things, the extent to which the listener can accept Tim’s criminality and, perhaps more to the point, the extent to which his emergence as a strong advocate of criminal rehabilitation is evidence of genuine repentance and change. In either case, it must be remembered that Tim is not a stupid man and that his decision (alongside that of his bandmates) to return to active duty as AILD would not have been made in ignorance of the backlash that such a move would accrue. With that in mind, two conceivable perspectives emerge. Firstly, it could be argued that it is reductive to argue that a criminal can never reform and, as evidence of Tim’s work to overcome the root causes of his downfall continues to come to light, there is an argument that a tolerant society, which believes in the criminal justice system, should offer Tim the benefit of the doubt. In contrast, there are those who will argue that the nature of his criminality is enough to mark the band as off-limits for good. These positions are liable to be strongly ingrained within a person’s own individual morality and, as such, not particularly liable to change, although the internet most certainly can be seen to exacerbate virtue signalling amongst certain groups.
Regardless of the wider view of Tim’s fall from grace, it is a fact that AILD are back with a brand-new album entitled shaped by fire. The band’s first record in seven years, shaped by fire more or less picks up where the band left off before their mandatory hiatus and, if Tim’s experiences and the fallout from the band’s reunion adds a certain frisson in the public domain, it is not obvious from the music, which bristles with confidence.
Following on from the short, introductory burn to emerge, As I Lay Dying formally announce their return with the blistering blinded, a ferocious assault upon the senses that is delivered with a potency that suggests the band are all too aware of just how much is riding on this release. Musically the band are as tight as ever, although aspects of their experiences as Wovenwar have bled into a greater emphasis on melody, and the song’s chorus is liable to split the audience between those who crave non-stop brutality and those who are willing to embrace the deliberately addictive delivery. It’s a strong song, but it is also presages a formula that the band stick to like glue across the eleven tracks on offer here, reducing the impact and making the listener wish for a touch more light and shade, even if the riffs do rain down with considerable force. As with its predecessor, Shaped by fire kicks off with thrusting guitar riffs and a thoroughly disgust-laden vocal from Tim. Liable to be a live favourite, it’s a crushing track, although the band can only hold off the inevitable melodic chorus for so long, throwing clean vocals and banks of harmonies into the mix with a clear eye on accessibility and a heavy-handed production that does the band a disservice. Eschewing any sort of introduction to ravage the listener from the off, Undertow is an initially savage beast, the call-and-response screams delivered with considerable menace, although a melodic chorus is never far behind, ready to cheapen the impact. Changing things up a touch, an ethereal opening gives way to some chrome-plated riffing on Torn Between, the dynamic shift, however slight, proving a welcome one. In contrast, a short intro gives way to some of the album’s thrashiest riffing with Gatekeeper, an album highlight and a sure-fire mosh-pit igniter. Lyrically, it deals directly with the band’s return to duty in an intelligent manner and It proves the most satisfying moment of the first half.
Kicking off the album’s second side, the shimmering sorrow of The Wreckage’s introduction gives way to more familiar riffing and it’s clear that the band have found their comfort zone. Another album highlight emerges in the form of My Own Grave, a track that simply steamrolls over everything in its way thanks to an astonishingly powerful vocal performance from Tim. With lyrics that, as with gatekeeper, directly address Tim’s circumstances (“buried alive inside of my own grave, there’s no one else to blame”), a number of emotions run high whilst listening to the track and the band have given it a weighty backdrop worthy of the content. Allowing for a moment of calm, the intro to Take What’s Left soon gives way to harder material, although it suffers in comparison to the piece it follows. The aggressive Redefined sees the band pull the increasingly familiar trick of hooking the listener in with a moment’s calm, although the track itself, custom built for huge stages, is charged with adrenalin. With the album racing to its conclusion, Only After We Have Fallen sticks very much to the formula established at the outset, leaving The Toll It Takes to bring things to an end, some truly blistering riffing setting the pulse racing just as the album spins to a halt.
In any society, the question remains as to how best to respond to moral and legal transgressions. In the case of Tim Lambesis, his every action to date has shown a sincere desire to atone for his past misdemeanours and the decision of the band to reform, even in the light of how much they had invested in the name, must have been a difficult one. It is arguable that such efforts to overcome a very public fall from grace should be given a chance for, without compassion, the motivation to reform would be low indeed. As for the album itself, it is a good example of AILD’s oeuvre without offering anything new to the genre. When the album works best, it busts out of the self-imposed scream-sing-scream formula (for example on gatekeeper), or attacks the issues outlined above with unnerving directness (my own grave). Elsewhere, the songs are well-played but, when taken as a whole, lack variety, running the risk of merging together. What remains is a fine, well- played album that does a good job of bringing the band back into the public eye, but AILD will need to dig deeper if they are to build upon the momentum they have found here. 7.5
