Get it while it's hot, folks. The first real gem of 2011.
I tend to post these blurbs in a hurry, and for no real reason. I feel rushed, though I'm only answering to myself and keeping to an extremely loose "schedule" that only I, myself, have made, and that's never been indelibly engrained into or on to anything, anywhere, ever. Once I start writing one of these things, my brain kickstarts an invisible timer, and if I haven't vaguely gotten what I want to say about a specific band or album into a word document by the time that timer hits its double-zeros... well, I suppose that's when that "very specific danger" that the OCD-laden hold themselves as submissives to appears in my itinerary, threatening to ruin my sunny day.
That's not happening this time.
No, I really want to say a lot of things about this album, but even if I don't, I want to leave you with a sense of what I feel it is. Level 2 isn't just a slab of metal--it's something that each of us experiences, time and time again, during our most translucent moments: a very resolute... something. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it's undoubtedly some not-quite-lucid-or-tangible sense of power. As an example: I tend to grin like an asshole whenever I feel absolutely confident, no matter who's around me; and I grin that very same grin whenever I spin this album. The way it opens, the way it climaxes, and the way it ends are all just so analagous to the human condition in its most triumphant crises. If you're wondering what that means, spin this one on an extra-hardy cardio workout or during your very own cop-chase--you may, then, have an idea.
