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Cast Outs, The - s/t (2/10) - USA - 2006

Genre: Punk Metal
Label: Self-production
Playing time: 25:04
Band homepage: Cast Outs, The

Tracklist:

  1. On Stage At The Apocalypse
  2. Self-Inflicted Stigmata
  3. Terminal Takedown
  4. Song 7
  5. Can’t Refrain
  6. Daze Down
  7. We’ll Wait For Tomorrow And See What Happens Today
Cast Outs, The - s/t

Wow. There are bad bands, and then there are THE CAST OUTS.

 

The brainchild of two men simply known as “Derek” and “Dave”, THE CAST OUTS are a horrible caricature of a Punk Metal band. No matter which way you look at it, this album is simply brutal, and I don’t mean that in the Death Metal fashion (as that could be considered a compliment). Featuring seven songs barely amounting to twenty-five minutes of music, THE CAST OUTS’ self-titled debut fails on so many levels, one must wonder exactly what was going through these guys’ heads when they were recording it.

 

Let’s start with the production, shall we? Basically, the entire album sounds like it may have been recorded using Microsoft Sound Recorder; there’s fuzzy static and skipping nearly everywhere. The instruments have some of the most puzzling tones I’ve ever heard; the guitar has an almost twangy sound to it, which is made worst by the fact that its handler continuously chugs one note (nope, not power chords, even!), creating an extremely irritating wall of noise. Oh, and oddly enough, “Dave” is listed as the drummer, yet I’ll be damned if that’s not a drum machine I hear. I mean, only a machine could be capable of producing such monotonous beats.

 

Working here at The Metal Observer, one chances upon awful bands all the time. However, most of these bands have one saving grace: the fellows at least know how to play their instruments with a decent level of ability. However, such is not the case with THE CAST OUTS, as “Derek” and “Dave” redefine the mundane with their clumsy riffing. The vocals could very well be the saddest attempt at singing to ever reach my eardrums, as “Derek” belts out chorus after chorus of slurred-together Punk shouts with startling ineptitude.

 

It’s become a cliché to say that the only good thing about a bad album is that it’s mercifully short. However, the reason why these sayings become clichés is because they’re right nearly one hundred percent of the time, thus ringing true for THE CAST OUTS. It’s still twenty-five minutes of my life I can never retrieve, so in order to prevent the same thing from happening to you, the wary music fan, I would advise you to stay well away from this mess of an album.

(Online February 10, 2007)

Mitchel Betsch



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