The cover of Anthems for the Damned bears a picture of a helmet on a rifle and its first song is called "Soldiers of Misfortune," two clear indications that Filter are facing the problems of the modern world head-on on this, their fourth album and first in six years. Filter were on hiatus for the bulk of the 2000s, disbanding after 2002's The Amalgamut with leader Richard Patrick spending time with the post-Stone Temple Pilots project Army of Anyone before reuniting the band. Despite this long gap between The Amalgamut and Anthems for the Damned, there is continuity between these two records, as Filter don't abandon the gloomy, hard-edged sound that's been their stock in trade since Short Bus. This isn't to say there's no progression -- this is softer than much of its predecessor and there are distinct traces of U2's anthemic rock, so it feels a little bit more age-appropriate, the kind of music an unrepentant alt-rocker facing down his 40th birthday should make -- nor does it mean that the band is dwelling in the past. Rather, it's just that this kind of well-polished heavy rock -- cobbled together from equal parts grunge, industrial, and '80s rock -- is what the band does, to the extent that the only way to really identify Anthems for the Damned as a product of 2008 is through its succession of antiwar, socially conscious lyrics. Consequently, Anthems for the Damned is kind of a curious amalgam, with Patrick's urgent words not quite jibing with the well-executed mannered angst-rock, yet the disconnect isn't too dissonant, which is the problem: the whole affair feels just a shade too well-manicured -- the rhythms too tight, the guitars too well-scrubbed, the production too well-balanced -- and as a result, the album never gets underneath the skin with way Filter intended. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
Although Filter's Title of Record was a creative step forward, Richard Patrick described the album's recording process as an exigent one, where everyone constantly butted heads. To the band's surprise, when they began working on The Amalgamut two years later, they encountered the exact opposite. The band, along with longtime producer Ben Grosse, felt the most open and creative they had in years. With two successful releases and two years of solid touring behind them, Filter allowed themselves the freedom to write and record new material at their own pace. After embarking on a cross-country road trip with his acoustic guitar and witnessing the September 11th terrorist attacks and Columbine High School shootings on television with the rest of America, Richard Patrick poured his inspiration into some of his most sincere and revealing material to date. Lyrically, Patrick is honest and unembarrassed throughout the album. Whether he's shaming the two teenage assailants responsible for the Columbine massacre on "Columind," pondering how commonplace school violence has become on "American Cliché," or coming to a religious crossroads while confronting the 9/11 attacks on "The Missing," Patrick never compensates his views for popular acceptance or political correctness. Musically, the band delivers hook after hook on a bed of strong songwriting. Richard Patrick found his voice on Title of Record. On The Amalgamut, he takes his singing to the next level, frequently adding embellishments and showcasing his broadened vocal range. Mixing soft-rockers like "The Only Way (Is the Wrong Way)" and "God Damn Me" with the harder fare of "Columind" and "So I Quit," the album cleverly incorporates the best of what Short Bus and Title of Record each had to offer. The album's first single, "Where Do We Go From Here," picks up where "Take a Picture" left off, adding a gritty bridge and a soaring rock chorus. Filter further probes world and relationship issues on songs like the Deftones-tinged "Never Be the Same" and the Thom Yorke-meets-Deep Forest jam "World Today." In the end, the resulting sound is that of an updated and improved Filter, and The Amalgamut proves that there's much more to the band than "Hey Man, Nice Shot." In fact, as their discography continues to grow, the track that launched their career is impressively becoming one of their least definitive. ~ Don Kline, All Music Guide
Filter's 1995 debut Short Bus broke through at the exact moment when Nine Inch Nails soundalikes began dominating the modern rock charts. Filter had more credit to their sound than any of their peers -- their leader Richard Patrick had played in the touring incarnation of NIN. Nevertheless, many critics had written the band off as one-hit wonders with the crossover single "Hey Man, Nice Shot" being their one shot at glory. Since it took them four years to deliver the followup Title of Record, it could appear to the casual observer that the delay was proof positive that the band was a flash in the pan, but the album itself proves them wrong. If anything, it's a stronger album than its predecessor, with more sonic details and stronger songwriting. Title of Record is still firmly within the industrial-metal tradition -- parts of it sound like it could have been on Short Bus, actually -- but it's surprising how often Patrick bends the rules. There's trippy neo-psychedelic pop vocals that close "Captain Bligh," and even when the music rages (which it does throughout the record), there are subtle differences in tension and dynamics that keep it fresh and engaging throughout. It is true that Filter sound a little out of place within the modern rock world of 1999, where the aggro-metal is rooted in hip-hop not industrial, but that doesn't mean that Title of Record isn't a strong album on its own merits, according to the rules of its genre. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
Filter's debut reflects the post-Nine Inch Nails state-of-the-art industrial pop, which means Short Bus is indeed more pop than industrial. The noise accentuates the songs instead of driving them. Filter's sense of melody is slighter than Trent Reznor's, yet they have the skill to craft shifting dynamics into hooks, as in the single "Hey Man, Nice Shot." Not that they can keep it going throughout the entire record, but it still plays very well to the audience. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide