Wanna know why every band who wants to be Bring Me The Horizon isn’t? It’s because it’s hard. The same can be applied to any big, influential act, no matter how much you might personally despise them. If it were easy to find fortune by simply copying what they do, there’d be a whole lot less musical diversity out there, and even more shameless hangers-on than there currently are.
Once upon a time, Underøath were firmly resting in the big boys’ camp, among the top brass of 2000s post-hardcore that so, so many wanted to replicate. Hell, it wasn’t even that long ago that they still felt at those heights, with 2018’s Erase Me recontextualising their sound through grim, industrial layers, and only appreciating in value since its release. But then with Voyeurist in 2022, almost the complete opposite is true. Underøath slid further into modernity in a way that hasn’t stuck, or furthered the perception of what this band should be to anyone other than themselves. Its influence hangs over The Place After This One, which feels more like the median between those last two albums, though now piled with additional creative mission statements and even more tinkering with the contemporary stimuli of their sound. Almost like their time spent around Bring Me The Horizon recently has given Underøath a few ideas, eh?
At least The Place After This One isn’t some blatant cloning attempt, but dig in just a little and the shape of design begins to match. Primarily, the core values of Underøath remain, only now blanketed under blaring, compressed production and the occasional spasm into new musical pastures. But if we’re using those exact terms to draw up comparisons to one of the most omnipresent acts in alternative music and beyond, it’s really not enough. The Place After This One ends up stuck in its own uncanny valley, between a regular Underøath effort and going the distance to be so much more. Instead, it struggles to go anywhere. None of the new elements brought in feel as though they’re building towards something significant or that much more than the sum of their parts. By the end, that inkling hasn’t been quelled much.
It’s Shame that’s the biggest turning point, where Underøath really seem like they’re coming undone. It may have one of the most propulsive choruses on the album, but that’s as a result of expected Underøath heaviness slamming to a halt for what’s almost like an EDM build. Teeth follows (not to be confused with On Your Teeth, their song which isn’t even 10 years old) and feels even more detached, as skittering drum ‘n’ bass with wedged-in breakdowns rings as more perplexing than a considered experiment. These are the extremes of The Place After This One, but their implications are just as salient. The album wants to have an air of chaos and really, truly believes it does, but struggles to mark the boundaries between that and a simple mess.
What’s more frustrating is how they basically nail it at the very start. Generation No Surrender is a cutter of an opener, wielding itself in borderline-mathcore terms with its deliberate clashes and slices to itself. As things proceed with Devil’s reclamation of industrial harshness and the hardcore squall of Loss, there’s a pretty great version of Underøath in there. There’s an utter viciousness in the sound, and Spencer Chamberlain could flay flesh off the bone with just his screams alone. In fact, within this current age of Underøath, this little clutch of early songs might contain some of its best work.
That’s a main reason why The Place After This One isn’t easy to write off, because those elements are always trying sneak through. Chamberlain might not be as animalistic for the entire duration but he’s not slacking even once. It’s also nice to see drive being at a premium, as Underøath look to keep fresh and fierce more than a band on their 10th album might be liable to. What’s more, you can tell that even the clattering disasterpieces of the album were made with good intentions. Label meddling and profit / loss jargon have not dictated this album’s path; it truly feels like what Underøath wanted to make (as questionable as that can sometimes be).
Thus, to paint a Bring Me The Horizon-modeled endgame is more to do with their freedom than their fame. It’s a noble undertaking, no matter how in over their heads Underøath are by the whole thing. And yeah, they really are, but…it could be worse? At least The Place After This One isn’t derivative or played-out, for all the criticisms that can be levelled at it. It’s lopsided and unfocused and far from abuzz with radical ideas, certainly, but not boring. And yes, that is the slightest sliver of consolatory analysis possible for this very uneven album, one that really does struggle to meet its mark. It really would be a great thing if this were just a bit better.
For fans of: Static Dress, SeeYouSpaceCowboy, Bring Me The Horizon
‘The Place After This One’ by Underøath is released on 28th March on MNRK Heavy.
Words by Luke Nuttall
