Fear Factory Albums (7)
What The Critics Say
When Fear Factory's Archetype LP came out in April 2004, the adversity surrounding it (personnel departures, fleeting breakups, record company woes) fueled the album's most ferocious moments. The band's 2005 effort, Transgression, shares that ferocity, but it's more loosely applied -- it isn't as desperate or on edge as Archetype, instead precision-channeling its rage into ambitious and efficiently written songs. Best of all, Raymond Herrera's totally insane drumming continues to drive the band's explosive heart. Opener "540,000° Fahrenheit" overlays its rhythmic chop with sputtering guitars and a typically mirthful vocal from Burton C. Bell, while "Spinal Compression" crosses and sparks the tension wires of thrash and death metal. The continued, focused intensity of Transgression is evident in the way Fear Factory manages its volatile nature against keyboard lines that glower with drama and turns toward more accessible song structure. Bell himself is a barometer for that volatility. As usual he shifts between a vengeful bark and a contemplative singing voice. But it's where he chooses to use either style that makes songs like songs like "Empty Vision" and "New Promise" really effective. They might not be as immediately heavy, but they're powder kegs of potential. Producer Toby Wright understands where Fear Factory needs some echo, and where they absolutely don't. So Bell's vocals hit some Queensrÿche highs, but he's direct and pissed off when Herrera's at his most vicious and Christian Olde Wolbers' guitar starts scratching barbed wire on steel. Whether at its loudest or most dramatic, Transgression is Fear Factory at their most confident. Whereas on Archetype they delivered a searing take on Nirvana's "School," Transgression features a surprisingly faithful version of Boy-era U2 classic "I Will Follow." The introduction's so close it could almost be a remaster of the original, Bell's just a throatier Bono, and the only real metal concession is the chunkier rhythm guitar and some screaming to punctuate the backgrounds. Now how's that for confident? ~ Johnny Loftus, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
This soundtrack to the Mischief extreme driving crew's adventures tearing it up in Europe for the annual Cannonball Run race consists mostly of vaguely aggressive electronica. It's the sort of sound you hear in smash-'em-up video games, or in the background of dude-oriented reality TV programs like You Gotta See This. Fear Factory fans will note the remix of "Archetype" that appears here. [Included with the soundtrack is the DVD of Mischief Invasion. It follows the gang of miscreant auto enthusiasts as they crash bang their way from the UK to Spain, from France to Africa, and back to the UK again in only five days. In between, Jaguars are destroyed and farts are lit.] ~ Johnny Loftus, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Fear finally became a factor for Fear Factory fans in 2001 when the band abruptly broke up over bad blood between guitarist Dino Cazares and vocalist Burton C. Bell. Longtime label Roadrunner dropped them; the future of Fear looked bleak. Luckily, bassist Christian Olde Wolbers was willing to take on the guitar spot, and the remaining Fear mongers hired ex-Strapping Young Lad Byron Stroud for the bass position. The result of this tumult is Archetype (Liquid 8), an angrily coiled album that balances its human-mechanism percussion and blistering guitar work with subtle keyboard backgrounds and Burton's bipolar vocal turns, at once unleashing hell-bound screams and heavily reverbed, near-Goth turns toward singing (think vintage Sisters of Mercy). The echoing melodies of "Bite the Hand That Bleeds" and "Undercurrent" are oddly alluring, but they're really no match for the aorta-exploding pummel of "Slave Labor" and "Drones," or "Cyberwaste"'s absolutely incredible death metal stomp. It's a sound that's been done before -- some might even call it dated. But those are the same weaklings that will cower before "Act of God" and its automated guillotine verses. "Default Judgement" too, with its near-atonal bassline sludge, serves as a worthy introduction for Stroud. But throughout Archetype, it's his rhythm section compatriot that impresses. Raymond Herrera opens fire with an array of double bass kicks and stuttering snare rolls, giving industrial-tinged cuts like "Bonescraper" a hardcore bottom end. In other words, he's more human than inhuman. The same goes for the entirety of Archetype, which grapples lyrically with the very human experience of getting jerked around by a record label. "Drones"? "Slave Labor"? "Corporate Cloning"? These are the acerbic reflections of a band run down and left for roadkill. Longtime Fear Factory fans should enjoy this return to a more organic sound from the band. Archetype's final statement might illustrate this best. The Bleach-era Nirvana cover "School" rears up after the elegiac, lengthy synth piece "Ascension" for just over two furious minutes, full of cracked tooth-spitting anger, but also flush with rock & roll power. It even departs from the album's wall of muted guitar, turning out a brief solo and touches of punk-ish feedback. Archetype is a rousing return for Fear Factory. It's well in line with what the band's done before, but with something new to rail against, they're revitalized and newly furious. ~ Johnny Loftus, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Soul of a New Machine, Fear Factory's first nationally released album, introduced them to the metal world as a brutally heavy death metal act with a few post-hardcore touches. Produced by Colin Richardson (Carcass, Napalm Death), that album was the necessary tool that would set the pace for the remainder of their career. But the first album they ever recorded was actually Concrete, a much different beast than the record that they became known for. Produced by a young Ross Robinson, this is an important record for both artists. In what would be the very first album he ever helmed, Robinson's approach takes some of the sludge out of the mix and brings up the elements that keep it vital and interesting. The discordant guitars, clear vocals, movie samples, and monstrously distorted bass are the primary elements of the disc, taking away Richardson's insistence on chunky guitars and strong percussion. This works in the band's favor much more than against it, although the drums are buried too far into the mix to be appreciated. And singer Burton C. Bell sounds amazing here, jumping from the beautifully mournful moans on "Echoes of Innocence" to a horrifying yelp on "Self Immolation" that doesn't even sound human at times. But this is the better album, coming off like a woefully lost Helmet/Morbid Angel jam session more than a debut album from an unknown L.A. metal band. Why amazing songs like "Echoes of Innocence" and "Dragged Down by the Weight of Existence" were left off the initial release is a mystery. They still sound just as powerful and unique as they did in 1991. And anyone looking for the seeds of the late-'90s rap metal movement need look no further than "Sufferage" to see where Robinson first captured this unique tension three years before he would apply it to Korn. When most bands of this era were still insistent on the traditional death metal sound, Fear Factory proves on this lost gem that they were looking way ahead of the pack. ~ Bradley Torreano, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Obsolete is the third full-length release by electro-metallists Fear Factory. Admirably, they've stayed true to their sound over the years, paying no mind to current musical trends -- they're content with their original Ministry-meets-Slayer sound. On their latest (produced by ex-Front Line Assembly member Rhys Fulber), the quartet offers more of the same sound, with a bit of experimentation thrown in for good measure, such as the use of violins, cellos, and violas on a few of the tracks. "Shock" kicks things off with the classic Fear Factory sound: mechanic heavy metal with vocals that morph from growls to hymn-like chants. Also of note is the title track, which features a robotic spoken word dialogue from industrial godfather Gary Numan, and contains slightly off-time drums that help to heighten the already-existing musical tension. The album's biggest surprise however is "Resurrection," which is perhaps the most tuneful song Fear Factory have ever done, without compromising their heavy sound. ~ Greg Prato, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Not too many folks really took note at the time, but Fear Factory were really onto something with their 1992 debut album, Soul of a New Machine. Though it wasn't a beginning-to-end classic, it was an exceptional album and arguably ushered in the alternative metal era with its fusion of metal styles. When Fear Factory returned three years later with their follow-up, Demanufacture, the band's groundbreaking style of industrial- and death-informed metal came to fruition, and this time a great many folks did take note, resulting in one of the most successful metal releases of the '90s, commercially as well as artistically. On the surface, it almost seems like Demanufacture is a rewrite of Soul of a New Machine. Following a couple extreme side projects (i.e., Nailbomb, Brujeria), Fear Factory again flew in Earache Records production legend Colin Richardson, and again they fused together a number of elements characteristic of various metal subgenres. For instance, vocalist Burton C. Bell unleashes a ferocious death metal growl, yet he can also switch over to a Rob Halford-like vocal style when he wants to grace a given song with soaring melodic vocals for contrast. Moreover, guitarist Dino Cazares straddles the fence between industrial and death metal, as he plays machine-like riffs that chug away in lock step with likewise machine-like drummer Raymond Herrera yet breaks away at any given moment and takes off in a frenzied, very human direction. This "man-machine" sound -- real people playing real instruments live, though in an industrial, machine-like fashion -- is the essence of Fear Factory, and while Soul of a New Machine may have been the blueprint for this approach to metal (one that would be duplicated by a generation of bands within a few years), Demanufacture takes the approach a step further: same band, same idea, same production, same sound; better songs, better performances, better album, better reception. Perhaps the biggest improvement made here is the choice to write longer, more progressive songs (rather than the three- and four-minute song sketches of Soul) and shorten the song list (11 tracks opposed to 17). This makes for a much more engrossing listen, and one that better resonates in the end. Demanufacture may sound somewhat generic today in the wake of the myriad alternative metal bands that took cues from it, but make no mistake: it was one of the most exciting metal releases of its day and remains a landmark, even if Fear Factory continued to release similarly exceptional albums in the years to come. ~ Jason Birchmeier, All Music Guide
'Soul of a New Machine'
Release Date 8/25/1992
Tracks 17
Label Roadrunner
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Soul of a New Machine ushered in the '90s alternative metal era, even if few realized it at the time. Fear Factory were quite ahead of their time in 1992, the year Roadrunner Records released Soul, their debut album (though not technically their first, which would be the later-unearthed, Ross Robinson-produced Concrete demo album). The band didn't fit neatly into any of the metal camps of the day: thrash metal (Pantera, Slayer, Sepultura), crossover metal (Metallica, Megadeth, Ozzy), industrial metal (Ministry, Nine Inch Nails, Godflesh), death metal (Morbid Angel, Death, Obituary), grindcore (Napalm Death, Brutal Truth, Lawnmower Deth), and so on. This fact alone made Fear Factory an anomaly among the market-driven metal field of the day. That Roadrunner even gave them a chance regardless goes to show how much promise Fear Factory exhibited at the time -- market or no market, Roadrunner sensed there was something special about this band and decided to take a chance. And indeed there was something special about Fear Factory, as Soul of a New Machine went on to demonstrate. One of the top two death metal producers of the day, Colin Richardson, flew from England into Los Angeles (only days after the 1992 riots had ravaged the city), and for the next four weeks, he produced what would become a downright groundbreaking metal album. Soul of a New Machine was so groundbreaking because it fuses together some of the best aspects of numerous metal subgenres: the rhythmic crunch of thrash, the melodies of crossover metal, the syncopated man-machine lock-step of industrial, the growling low end of death metal, and the blitzkrieg impact of grindcore. Just as importantly, it did away with the generic aspects of each subgenre, resulting in a unique sound that was in no way whatsoever clichéd (though it would later become a cliché itself years later). Granted, Soul of a New Machine isn't Fear Factory's best album, not even by a stretch, and it didn't shake up the metal world at the time of its release. However, a few years later, once the band broke through with Demanufacture (1995), there were myriad bands mixing and matching different metal equations, thus bringing about the "alternative metal" descriptor. So if you're curious about where it all began, Soul of a New Machine is arguably ground zero. If you're simply looking for some kick-ass metal, though, there's plenty of that here too, especially the first half of the album, with "Martyr," "Scapegoat," and "Scumgrief" standing out as particular highlights. And if you like what you hear here, you'll also want to pick up the Fear Is the Mindkiller remix EP that followed a year later. It takes the music a logical step further, to amazing results (courtesy of Bill Leeb and Rhys Fulber of Front Line Assembly). Roadrunner thankfully remastered and reissued both in 2004 as a single deluxe package. ~ Jason Birchmeier, All Music Guide
