Static X's sixth album, Cult of Static, finds the nu-metal veterans steadfastly refusing to change their stripes, and why should they? As they say in the album's title, Static X have a cult that enjoys their adherence to all things that were nu in the '90s: riffs that grind instead of groove, merciless mechanical rhythms, vague drowning synths, all dressed with barking Cookie Monster vocals. Static X don't develop their music as much as they hone it, concentrating on its barest essentials, then delivering it with precision and little flair. This leaves little room to lure new listeners, but that's not the point of this sixth album -- it's to serve the needs of the Cult, and it does just that. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
Nearly danceable industrial thrash unit Static-X returns to the heavy-hitting attack of their Wisconsin Death Trip debut on Cannibal, their fifth offering. Like "Jesus Built My Hotrod"-era Ministry without the snarky humor, Cannibal finds the Midwest-bred quartet mining the usual themes of death, drink, sex, and hate, but this time around the sparse arrangements, throat-shredding vocals, and occasional flourishes of disco jet fuel feel less contrived than on previous outings. Sure, there's nothing here that any fan of White Zombie, Korn, and Slipknot hasn't already ingested a hundred times, but tracks like "Goat," "Destroyer," the sinewy title cut, and "No Submission" -- the latter appeared on the Saw 3 soundtrack -- bristle with a refreshing sense of "f*ck it" that keeps things from spiraling into the self-absorbed tar pit that makes dinosaur bones out of so many similar acts. [Cannibal is also available in a "clean" version that spares the listener the emotional trauma of dealing with words such as "bullshit" and "crap." There is also a limited collector's edition that features the bonus cuts "Light It Up" and "I'm The One (Wayne Static's Disco Destroyer Remix)."] ~ James Christopher Monger, All Music Guide
Static-X's 2003 album Shadow Zone was a mess. Trying too blatantly to match wits with Korn and searching blindly for depth in electronics and processed drums, it tried desperately to expand on the sound of Machine and Wisconsin Death Trip, and that flawed ambition was its biggest problem. The early material was grating and one-dimensional, but it had a certain primal flair for the very same reasons -- songs were really an afterthought in the face of its blistering howl. Frontman Wayne Static seems to have figured that out with 2005's Start a War, and he's aided by the thick and hoary tone of original guitarist Koichi Fukada, who's rejoined the fold after the forced departure of Tripp Eisen. (This is also the band's first recording with former tour-only drummer Nick Oshiro.) From the beginning, War lights into a guttural guitar strut over refreshing live drumming and doesn't let up, masking Static's laughably atrocious lyrics (keywords: destroy, kill, hate, fall, terror, self-destruct) with an unrelenting roar. Imagine the sewage wind flowing though an abandoned subway line, or a thousand first-person shooters cranked to full volume, and that's the effect of "Enemy," "I'm the One," the screeching "Start a War," and "Dirthouse." The latter suffers from weird tattletale intonation in the vocal. However, its harsh snare reports are brilliant, and the billowing electronic throbs and sirens make it sound like White Zombie idling at a starting line. It's not a new sound, not anywhere near, and Start a War inevitably falters. It can't survive on a diet of enormous guitar tone alone. But at least Static-X is having fun making this stuff, and in its best moments the album is a raucous, hedonistic chortle, a crinkling PVC lark, an industrial thrash waste valve blaring deafening nothingness into the inky night sky. ~ Johnny Loftus, All Music Guide
Beneath, Between, Beyond is a collection of B-sides, rarities, and remixes from industro-thrashers Static-X. While never visionary, Static still has a flair for fusing industrial mechanical grind to the primal urges of thrash, and slathering it all in spooky hair and black PVC. Beneath is no different, offering fans material from 1996 all the way through to the sessions for 2003's Shadow Zone. Ministry alum Paul Barker remixes "I'm With Stupid", "Breathe" is a strong enough opener, and Static-X devotees will love the five demo versions tacked onto the end. ~ Johnny Loftus, All Music Guide
Static-X's Shadow Zone seems to have arrived via wormhole from 1998. In songs like "Kill Your Idols," "Destroy All," and "Monster," Wayne Static -- who's never sounded more like Korn's Jonathan Davis -- yells "My head's a loaded gun" and "Breathing, killing, seething, willing" over thudding thrash busied up with electronic fuzz. Producer Josh Abraham (Orgy, Crazy Town) buries the drumming behind a wall of guitars, and by mid-album, "The Only"'s foray into Stabbing Westward-style electro-industrial provides depth by heading in a different direction. (Even here, Static's vocal still resembles Davis.) Reliance on formula has always been admissible in metal, and Static-X are indeed formulaic on Shadow Zone, although as the album draws to a close, "So" and "Invincible" debut some sort of double-track effect on Static's voice, which makes him sound like Layne Staley instead of Davis. ~ Johnny Loftus, All Music Guide
On Machine, a mile-a-minute thrashfest, Static X frontman Wayne Static merely howls, growls, crashes, and burns on his band's second album. The differences among "Black and White," "This Is Not," and "Cold" are barely distinguishable, and the overload of electronic gadgetry and kerosene vocals hardly disguises the lack of actual songs here. This is metal machine music for post-modern robots. ~ Michael Gallucci, All Music Guide
Fast, cheap, and out of control. This is gutbucket thrash for the most jaded of teenaged parking lot dwellers. After just a few minutes of throbbing power chords and Wayne Static's drunken sailor bellowing you may be ready to end it all, yet there is an undeniable hook to the chunky gloom this band pours out. If that's how you feel, this could be right up your dead-end alley. ~ Tim Sheridan, All Music Guide