The over the top campiness of “Sick Bubblegum” may revile many with its lyrical reliance on the ultimate swearword, but the fist pumping, chugging intensity is insatiable, ironically enjoyed or not. Rob Zombie is once again worshipping at the shock metal altar of Rob Zombie, and in short segments the listener cannot help but come along for the ride.
#Hellbilly deluxe album review movie
The ill advised genre experimentation plastering his prior release, “Educated Horses,” has been jettisoned in favor of the old standbys pulverizing riffs, thundering industrial rhythms, comical, horror obsessed lyrics, and more B movie spoken intros found on a Wu-Tang family record.
The problem facing Zombie circa 2010 is he has not touched musical relevancy for almost a decade, and despite the polished metal sheen and catchy bombast of new adventure “Hellbilly Deluxe 2,” it is unlikely his currently legacy will suddenly be catapulted back into 1998.Īnalyzing its most basic components, “Hellbilly Deluxe 2” is exactly what you would expect from a Rob Zombie project. During his prime it was not difficult to think Zombie was cool, and the primal atmosphere drenching nostalgic metal cuts like “More Human Than Human,” “Supercharger Heaven,” and “Dragula” made it pretty damn hard not to. From a musical perspective, Zombie has historically proven consistent at delivering the necessary goods to feed this beast. The bulk of his work, from the pulsating amusement of Astro Creep Two Grand, the campiness of films like “House of a Thousand Corpses,” or the chugging intensity of the first “Hellbilly Deluxe” installment prescribes Zombie’s greatest appeal is unequivocally derived from human nature’s most cartoonish desires. After all, White Zombie got its mainstream break because Beavis & Butthead thought “Thunderkiss ‘65” rocked. Review Summary: Although a return to glory days form is valiantly attempted, the finished product is unmemorable and rusty.ĭespite the captivating irony surrounding the fact Rob Zombie fancies himself an intellectual, there exists a non-exceptional, unyielding pre-requisite to turn your brain off in order to enjoy the schlock drenched forms of media bearing his stamp.
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