Hollywood Undead: Day Of The Dead

LA rap/rock collective prove there’s nothing behind the masks

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At the risk of sounding like a grumpy Facebook user, this is not a metal album – it’s a rap album. And, despite gaining an inexplicably large, rock-oriented fanbase, Hollywood Undead have released one of the direst examples of hip hop in years.

The unimaginative lyrics from multiple frontmen fail to connect on any level other than comedic (‘I am a thief and my father is a bastard, who am I, I am you’), and it’s interesting to note that ‘faggot’ is still apparently deemed acceptable by the LA mob.

If you were looking for guitars and live drums then keep on walking, as Day Of The Dead is lathered in the same post-Skrillex nonsense throughout, with War Child sounding like a Far East Movement outtake. But the worst offender has to be the laughably awful I’ll Be There, which stinks of Avicii and has less attitude than a worm’s turd.

At 15 tracks long, this is a tiresome slog full of faux swag and tedious rhymes./o:p

FINAL VERDICT: 210

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